Marguerite Verne; Or, Scenes from Canadian Life - Part 42
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Part 42

Phillip being called away upon business the happy pair solaced themselves in the inviting back parlor, and whiled away the hour in the way that only such lovers can when one takes into consideration the candies and peanuts that were conspicuous on this occasion.

When the latch-key turned in the front door all was quiet within, and the back parlor in perfect order. Faint sounds beneath the window told the indulgent master that Melindy was taking leave of her lover.

Mr. Lawson was not guilty of eavesdropping, but what could he do--the voices became more distinct.

"I tell you what it is, Moses Spriggins, there hain't been no secrets between us afore this, and I'd like to know why you can't tell me what business took you to Mr. Verne's office. Now you know you was there just as well as you know the head is on your body."

"Come, come, Melindy--I ain't got no secrets from you. It's only a little bit of bisness that I was a-doin' for 'Squire Verne--(Mr.

Spriggins had a habit of addressing all men of any importance by such appellation)--and it's his secret, not mine, and you can't blame a fellar for a-keepin' it when he is asked to do it, can you, Melindy?"

At this declaration the said Melindy was somewhat mollified, but muttered something about the two being one.

"Wal, never mind now," said Moses, "that's a dear Melindy; let's make up," and suiting the action to the word the lovers made up, and Melindy was satisfied that the secret did not belong to her affianced.

"But hold on, Melindy, how did you hear that I was at the office?

That's the stickin' pint; eh, Melindy, I've got you now."

"I ain't a-goin' to tell you, Moses Spriggins; that's my secret,"

said Melindy, affecting an air of disdain.

"Now you've been a-listenin', that's a sure thing, Melindy, and I think it's a-cryin' out shame to do sich a mean thing."

"Now look here, Moses Spriggins; I'm not a'goin' to stand no lecturin' from you, for if you don't like it, you can git as soon as you like, for there's Ben Buckler would give his eye tooth to cut you out!"

"Come, come, Melindy; we won't say anything more about it. We ain't a-goin' to be quarrelin' over nothin'." And very soon the lovers made up a second time, while the solicitor turned away, indulging in the same amount of curiosity as expressed by Melindy Jane Thrasher.

"It is strange, indeed. Moses is truthful. Mr. Verne has some secret, and he could have no more trustworthy confidante than the self-same Mr. Moses Spriggins," and soliloquizing thus Phillip Lawson sought the land of dreams--

"Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep."

CHAPTER XXIX.

A CHARACTER IS LUCK.

"Truly an interesting girl. There is a vein of good sense about her that I admire. New Brunswick sends us some fine specimens of females."

The man who made these remarks was not a gallant of the ninety-ninth degree, but was a sober, intellectual man of threescore-and-ten and, judging from the clear, penetrative eye, one who had seen much of the world as it is.

"From St John did you say, Mr. Metcalfe?"

"Yes, sir. Her father is engaged in the shipping business there, and I am told is a very fine sort of fellow. I have met Miss Verne several times and each time am more interested," said the old gentleman, rubbing his gold-rimmed spectacles in a way that implied "now for business."

"By the way, sir; that reminds me of a case I have on hand. The McGregor heirs are at a discount around here and our object is to hunt up a branch of the family who emigrated to New Brunswick some forty years ago.

"Old Hugh McGregor, from whom the bulk of the property comes, was an ironmonger who at one time did a large business in Glasgow, after which he removed to Manchester, and resided there until his death in 1829.

"His son Robert succeeded in the establishment and was prosperous, living in good style in a suburban residence five miles from Manchester.

"As Robert McGregor had no children the nearest heir was his sister, Jessie McGregor, who unfortunately fell in love with a young student who attended the same inst.i.tution as herself. Her parents becoming acquainted with the facts had her removed and forbade all intercourse; but love is stronger than bolts and bars, and the fair Jessie set out to face the world with no visible means of support but her husband's blandishments. But love is strong and the fair maiden managed to eke out a subsistence and by untiring effort they were at least in comfortable circ.u.mstances, and succeeded in educating their first-born for the ministry, but ere the talented young minister had preached a season his health gave way and he was called away to reap the reward of the faithful.

"The remaining child, a sweet girl of fourteen, was now the only solace of the bereaved parents, and fearing that they would also be deprived of their only joy, sold out their small property and emigrated to New Brunswick, where they purchased some land, and also by carrying on some other speculation were once more in prosperity.

"Now," said the old lawyer, glancing up over his spectacles, "our object is to trace this girl, who is the only surviving heir of the McGregor estate."

"But on what ground do you ignore Jessie McGregor, who may yet be alive? She cannot be a centenarian yet, sir."

"True," replied the former, "but Robert McGregor was aware of the fact of his sister's death some years ago. The latter was too proud to ask forgiveness for her rash act, and all intimacy ceased when she left her parent's protection, for old Hugh McGregor was a harsh, unrelenting man, whom if once thwarted could never be conciliated."

"And how do you intend to proceed? Have you any further information?"

"None, sir--except that by some intelligence from New Brunswick about ten years ago, Robert McGregor heard that his sister's child married a farmer and was comfortably settled."

"There is little trouble in finding the heirs then. Is the property a valuable one?"

"Real and personal estate amounts to something in the vicinity of forty thousand dollars."

"Not a bad heritage, I a.s.sure you, sir," said the other, with the least perceptible smile.

A month after the above conversation took place the lawyer was interviewed by the same individual.

"Yes, indeed, I immediately forwarded the notice to the St. John _Daily Telegraph_ and to the _Daily Sun_, two leading journals of that city, and yesterday was rewarded by a letter from a young solicitor of that city making such inquiries about the McGregor family that evidently shows that he is in possession of all the facts that we wish to become acquainted with."

"Are you at liberty to give his name. I am acquainted with the majority of St. John lawyers," said the other, feeling a lively interest in the subject.

"Not at present, if I were really disposed to do so," said the lawyer in the most good-natured manner. "The fact is I am not exactly in the writer's confidence myself. He wishes, no doubt, to communicate farther with some of the family in question ere he gives himself publicity."

"A sensible young man, indeed," ventured the New Brunswicker, for such he evidently was in his unconventional aspect and easy-going habits.

On the evening of the same day the same gentlemen held a second conversation, but this time it was not in a dingy lawyer's office.

The scene was a neat and pretty drawing-room, with all the necessary adornments native to such an apartment, and also a higher cla.s.s of adornment--that of several interesting and fascinating women.

"Home, sweet home," exclaimed Mr. Metcalfe, taking up the newspaper which Marguerite Verne had just laid aside. "I see you don't forget our old sheets. Well, they _do_ look familiar."

"I must be very deeply engaged when I cannot find time to run over the _Telegraph_ and _Sun_--the former I have read since I was able to spell the words. It occupies a warm spot in my affections," said Marguerite, smiling, while the soft roseate blushes rose in sweet confusion upon her face.

"You are a Grit, I presume, Miss Verne," said the host. "I see that your favorite journal advocates that policy?"

"I cannot say that I am, Mr. Stanhope. I have many friends on that side, but really my sympathies go with the present government."

"Then you should transfer your affections to its leading New Brunswick organ, Miss Verne," said the New Brunswicker.

"I admire it upon principle, sir. But pardon me, I am not versed in politics, and cannot express myself upon the subject," exclaimed Marguerite, taking up the _Sun_ to have a second glance at the locals which graced its columns.

"Not versed in politics, Marguerite! Do I hear aright?" cried a vivacious and interesting maiden of medium height and fair proportion, with an air of hauteur in her bearing characteristic of a model English girl.