"Yes, indeed; I used to sit at chambers for six or seven hours at a stretch, almost without getting out of my chair."

"And are you still employed about those awful papers?"

"I have not looked at them since you left the room."

"Then you must have been asleep."

"No, indeed; I have not been asleep. You left me too much to think of to enable me to sleep. What am I to do with myself besides eating and drinking, so that I shall not sleep always on this side of the grave?"

"There are twenty things, papa,--thirty, fifty, for a man so minded as you are." This she said trying to comfort him.

"I must endeavor to find one or two of the fifty." Then he went back to his papers, and really worked hard on that day.

On the following morning, early, he went across to Bolsover Terrace, to begin his task of reproving the Carroll family, without saying a word to Dolly indicative of his purpose.

He found that the task would be difficult, and as he went he considered within his mind how best it might be accomplished. He had put a prayer-book in his pocket, without giving it much thought; but before he knocked at the door he had a.s.sured himself that the prayer-book would not be of avail. He would not know how to begin to use it, and felt that it would be ridiculed. He must leave that to Dolly or to the clergyman.

He could talk to the girls; but they would not care about the affairs of the firm; and, in truth, he did not know what they would care about.

With Dolly he could hold sweet converse as long as she would remain with him. But he had been present at the bringing up of Dolly, and did think that gifts had been given to Dolly which had not fallen to the lot of the Carroll girls. "They all want to be married," he said to himself, "and that at any rate is a legitimate desire."

With this he knocked at the door, and when it was opened by Sophia, he found an old gentleman with black cotton gloves and a doubtful white cravat just preparing for his departure. There was Amelia, then giving him his hat, and looking as pure and proper as though she had never been winked at by Prince Chitakov. Then the mother came through from the parlor into the pa.s.sage. "Oh, John! how very kind of you to come. Mr.

Matterson, pray let me introduce you to my brother, Mr. Grey. John, this is the Rev. Mr. Matterson, a clergyman who is a very intimate friend of Amelia."

"Me, ma! Why me in particular?"

"Well, my dear, because it is so. I suppose it is so because Mr.

Matterson likes you the best."

"Laws, ma; what nonsense!" Mr. Matterson appeared to be a very shy gentleman, and only anxious to escape from the hall-door. But Mr. Grey remembered that in former days, before the coming of Mr. Juniper upon the scene, he had heard of a clerical admirer. He had been told that the gentleman's name was Matterson, that he was not very young nor very rich, that he had five or six children, and that he could afford to marry if the wife could bring with her about one hundred pounds a year.

He had not then thought much of Mr. Matterson, and no direct appeal had been made to him. After that Mr. Juniper had come forward, and then Mr.

Juniper had been altogether abolished. But it occurred to Mr. Grey that Mr. Matterson was at any rate better than Mr. Juniper; that he was by profession a gentleman, and that there might be a beginning of those good deeds by which he was anxious to make the evening of his days bearable to himself.

"I am delighted to make Mr. Matterson's acquaintance," he said, as that old gentleman scrambled out of the door.

Then his sister took him by the arm and led him at once into the parlor.

"You might as well come and hear what I have to say, Amelia." So the daughter followed them in. "He is the most praiseworthy gentleman you ever knew, John," began Mrs. Carroll.

"A clergyman, I think?"

"Oh yes; he is in orders,--in priest's orders," said Mrs. Carroll, meaning to make the most of Mr. Matterson. "He has a church over at Putney."

"I am glad of that," said Mr. Grey.

"Yes, indeed; though it isn't very good, because it's only a curate's one hundred and fifty pounds. Yes; he does have one hundred and fifty pounds, and something out of the surplice fees."

"Another one hundred pounds I believe it is," said Amelia.

"Not quite so much as that, my dear, but it is something."

"He is a widower with children, I believe?" said Mr. Grey.

"There are children--five of them; the prettiest little dears one ever saw. The eldest is just about thirteen." This was a fib, because Mrs.

Carroll knew that the eldest boy was sixteen; but what did it signify?

"Amelia is so warmly attached to them."

"It is a settled thing, then?"

"We hope so. It cannot be said to be quite settled, because there are always money difficulties. Poor Mr. Matterson must have some increase to his income before he can afford it."

"Ah, yes!"

"You did say something, uncle, about five hundred pounds," said Amelia.

"Four hundred and fifty, my dear," said Mr. Grey.

"Oh, I had forgotten. I did say that I hoped there would be five hundred."

"There shall be five hundred," said Mr. Grey, remembering that now had come the time for doing to one of the Carroll family the good things of which he had thought to himself. "As Mr. Matterson is a clergyman of whom I have heard nothing but good, it shall be five hundred." He had in truth heard nothing either good or bad respecting Mr. Matterson.

Then he asked Amelia to take a walk with him as he went home, reflecting that now had come the time in which a little wholesome conversation might have its effect. And an idea entered his head that in his old age an acquaintance with a neighboring clergyman might be salutary to himself. So Amelia got her bonnet and walked home with him.

"Is he an eloquent preacher, my dear?" But Amelia had never heard him preach. "I suppose there will be plenty for you to do in your new home."

"I don't mean to be put upon, if you mean that, uncle."

"But five children!"

"There is a servant who looks after them. Of course I shall have to see to Mr. Matterson's own things, but I have told him I cannot slave for them all. The three eldest have to be sent somewhere; that has been agreed upon. He has got an unmarried sister who can quite afford to do as much as that." Then she explained her reasons for the marriage. "Papa is getting quite unbearable, and Sophy spoils him in everything."

Poor Mr. Grey, when his niece turned and went back home, thought that, as far as the girl was concerned, or her future household, there would be very little room for employment for him. Mr. Matterson wanted an upper servant who instead of demanding wages, would bring a little money with her, and he could not but feel that the poor clergyman would find that he had taken into his house a bad and expensive upper servant.

"Never mind, papa," said Dolly, "we will go on and persevere, and if we intend to do good, good will come of it."

CHAPTER LXIII.

THE LAST OF AUGUSTUS SCARBOROUGH.

When old Mr. Scarborough was dead, and had been for a while buried, Augustus made his application in form to Messrs. Grey & Barry. He made it through his own attorney, and had now received Mr. Barry's answer through the same attorney. The nature of the application had been in this wise: that Mr. Augustus Scarborough had been put in to the position of the eldest son; that he did not himself in the least doubt that such was his true position; that close inquiry had been made at the time, and that the lawyers, including Mr. Grey and Mr. Barry had a.s.sented to the statements as then made by old Mr. Scarborough; that he himself had then gone to work to pay his brother's debts, for the honor of the family, and had paid them partly out of his own immediate pocket, and partly out of the estate, which was the same as his own property; that during his brother's "abeyance" he had a.s.sisted in his maintenance, and, on his brother's return, had taken him to his own home; that then his father had died, and that this incredible new story had been told. Mr. Augustus Scarborough was in no way desirous of animadverting on his father's memory, but was forced to repeat his belief that he was his father's eldest son, and was, in fact, at that moment the legitimate owner of Tretton, in accordance with the existing contract. He did not wish to dispute his father's will, though his father's mental and bodily condition at the time of the making of the will might, perhaps, enable him to do so with success. The will might be allowed to pa.s.s valid, but the rights of primogeniture must be held sacred.

Nevertheless, having his mother's memory in great honor, he felt himself ill inclined to drag the family history before the public. For his mother's sake he was open to a compromise. He would advise that the whole property,--that which would pa.s.s under the entail, and that which was intended to be left by will,--should be valued, and that the total should then be divided between them. If his brother chose to take the family mansion, it should be so. Augustus Scarborough had no desire to set himself over his brother. But if this offer were not accepted, he must at once go to law, and prove that their Nice marriage had been, in fact, the one marriage by which his father and mother had been joined together. There was another proviso added to this offer: as the valuation and division of the property must take time, an income at the rate of two hundred pounds a month should be allowed to Augustus till such time as it should be completed. Such was the offer which Augustus had authorized his attorney to make.

There was some delay in getting Mountjoy to consent to a reply. Before the offer had reached Mr. Barry he was already at Monte Carlo, with that ready money his father had left behind him. At every venture that he made,--at least at every loss which he incurred,--he told himself that it was altogether the doings of Florence Mountjoy. But he returned to England, and consented to a reply. He was the eldest son, and meant to support that position, both on his mother's behalf and on his own. As to his father's will, made in his favor, he felt sure that his brother would not have the hardihood to dispute it. A man's bodily sufferings were no impediment to his making a will; of mental incapacity he had never heard his father accused till the accusation had now been made by his own son. He was, however, well aware that it would not be preferred.

As to what his brother had done for himself, it was hardly worth his while to answer such an allegation. His memory carried him but little farther back than the day on which his brother turned him out of his rooms.

There were, however, many reasons,--and this was put in at the suggestion of Mr. Barry,--why he would not wish that his brother should be left penniless. If his brother would be willing to withdraw altogether from any lawsuit, and would lend his co-operation to a speedy arrangement of the family matters, a thousand a year,--or twenty-five thousand pounds,--should be made over to him as a younger brother's portion. To this offer it would be necessary that a speedy reply should be given, and, under such circ.u.mstances, no temporary income need be supplied.