A Drake by George! Part 13

This letter made the world seem cold to George, who strongly suspected Percy had dictated the punitory clauses. It was clear that his reign as first gentleman of Highfield was over. Not being of that faint-hearted disposition which abdicates without a struggle, George wrote a touching letter which was also, he considered, a complete vindication of his conduct; for, as Mrs. Drake must have been aware, he had suffered from his spine since childhood.

Then he packed his belongings and travelled an hour's journey into the next parish, where he arranged with the landlord of a wayside inn, which bore the hospitable t.i.tle of "Drink and be Thankful," to accommodate him with board and lodging upon especially reduced terms; and from this alcoholic address he despatched a daily apology for his existence to Mrs. Drake, each doc.u.ment more poignant than the one preceding it. His aunt sent a cheque for a quarter's allowance, which George cashed gratefully; but she did not write. That business was entrusted to Percy, who sent an ultimatum, giving George forty-eight hours to retire from the "Drink and be Thankful," and warning him that, if at any future time he should be discovered within twenty miles of Highfield village without obtaining a permit, his prospects would be marred considerably.

George p.r.o.nounced a malediction against Percy and all his tomatoes.

Then, as compliance seemed necessary--for he was terribly afraid his aunt might destroy her will--he decided to make a farewell visit to Highfield, in order that he might muse amid the scenes of his former slothfulness, and inform the villagers he was going away to oppose on their behalf the promoters of the Dartmoor Railway Company.

George was not surprised to discover the door of Windward House standing open, as he supposed Bessie would be cleaning; but he was considerably astonished to behold Miss Yard nodding in the parlour, with Nellie on her knees hard by extracting the indifferent lady from a web of wool which, with amazing thoroughness, she had wound about herself. George made a sign to the girl not to disturb her mistress, but to follow him as soon as possible into the garden.

"What's the meaning of this?" he asked, hastily, adding that he was not at all sorry to see her.

"Miss Sophy was so miserable I had to bring her back. When we went away she thought she was going back to her old home; and then, when she couldn't recognise anybody she kept on saying she was forsaken. She would stop people in the street and ask them where she lived, and if they didn't remember her. As she got worse every day I had to bring her back. Aren't you living here now?" asked Nellie.

"No," said George sadly. "You gave me no encouragement."

"So you waited until I was out of the house, and then you ran away!"

"My aunt and I have now agreed to differ. How did you leave her?" asked George pompously.

"Oh, very well. In fact, Kezia said she had not seen her in such good health for years."

"Miss Yard is breaking up, I think," said George, thinking of his programme, which was suffering sadly from interference.

"Indeed she's not. She is just mazed after the journey, as they say about here. Then you are really not going to live here again?"

"Not for the present. But I shall write to you, Nellie, at least once a week, and I shall think of you nearly every day."

"Thank you. Are you going to turn blacksmith?"

"Why do you ask a ridiculous question?"

"We have been playing at rhymes lately; and the only rhyme I can find for your name is forge."

"Nellie," said George heavily, "it is frivolous conduct like this which breaks a man up completely."

"I'll be serious then. When are you coming back?"

"Not until the place becomes my own. My aunt has injured me; she has upset all my plans. I do not intend to speak to her again until she has asked for my forgiveness."

"There goes the gate!" cried Nellie. "It's sure to be Bessie. If you don't want to be seen here--run!" she laughed.

"I do not stir for Elizabeth Mudge."

"Or budge for any man," sang teasing Nellie. Then her note changed, for the postmistress appeared from behind the rhododendrons.

"Why, it's Mrs. Cann! And she's got a telegram!"

"Vor you, Miss Blisland. Very bad news, miss. Terrible news. But she wur an old lady, and 'tis better to be took avore you knows where you be than to see it coming. I hopes and prays as how I'll be took the like way--selling a penny stamp, or licking a label, or doing some poor soul a gude turn by giving her an old-age pension."

She went rambling on, while Nellie tore open the telegram and read, "Mistress pa.s.sed away in her sleep. Kezia."

She shivered slightly, then handed it to George.

"Cruel bad news vor you, sir, especially as we'm all so sorry to hear you be a leaving us," said the postmistress.

"I had meant to go away," replied the self-sacrificing and sorrowful reprobate. "But I'm afraid I shall have to change my plans now."

CHAPTER VIII

A TANGLED INHERITANCE

George formally took over Windward House, with the exception of his aunt's bedroom, the door of which was locked. Bessie admitted she held the key, but was not going to give it up to anybody except Kezia. In the meantime, Miss Yard wandered about the house, declaring that Maria had always been able to look after herself, scolding Nellie for wearing black, "and making yourself look so small I can't see you," driving away Bessie by waving her hands and calling "Shoo!" but delighted with George because he looked bright and cheerful.

"Maria has been making up the past again," she said plaintively. "She told me I was good for nothing, and she wouldn't have me here any longer. She keeps all my friends away from me--and now she has hidden my money."

"We'll look for it," said Nellie, glad of the excuse to lure her back into the parlour. "I expect it is hidden in one of the usual places--inside the clock, or on top of the bookcase."

"It's no good looking there, Nellie. I have searched the whole house--and my cheque-book has gone too. My sister takes everything away from me."

A pleasant quarter of an hour was spent in searching for the missing bag of money, which had been secreted with more than usual ingenuity. These games of hide-and-seek were of daily occurrence, as Miss Yard would hide away everything she possessed, and then accuse the others of robbery by violence. On this occasion the little bag containing her spare cash had been deposited behind the register; George made the discovery after noticing a heap of soot upon the fender; and Miss Yard was more delighted with him than ever.

"Percy always does the right thing," she declared. "He wrote to that horrid man who said he was going to come and live here. Nellie, remind me tomorrow to pay off a mortgage on his railway."

"Percy grows tomatoes, Aunt. I am George, and I'm here to look after you," explained that gentleman uncomfortably.

"How silly people are!" said Miss Yard. "Of course it's tomatoes, and not railways. I don't know why they talk about railways, but I suppose it's because Nellie and I missed a train the other day. Everybody mixes up George and Percy, but one is quite as good as the other. One quality only, and that's the best. Now I wonder where I read that."

Then she opened the canvas bag and gave George ten shillings because he was so clever; and she gave a sovereign to Nellie because she was so good; but she refused to give Bessie a present, as she felt positive that young woman had conspired with Mrs. Drake to hide away her money.

"I must write to Maria and tell I've found it, and ask her to forget the past like I do and begin all over again," she said, shuffling to her writing table, where nearly every day she wrote letters which Nellie subsequently destroyed.

"Don't try to make her understand," said this young lady to George. "I have told her Mrs. Drake is dead, and she quite realised it, but a minute later had forgotten all about it. It's no use worrying her. She has no memory, and hardly any mind, left; but she is perfectly healthy and enjoys life thoroughly. Really, it isn't such a bad state to be in after all."

George rather looked forward to the funeral, as he meant to enjoy a settlement with Percy, who arrived only just in time to join the others in the churchyard. Mrs. Drake's bedroom had been opened the day before: George discovered the will, while Kezia made off with the box which had always stood upon the chest of drawers.

After the ceremony they returned to Windward House. Presently George and Percy went into the garden to discuss business, a.s.suming a brotherly affection, although George felt sure Percy entertained nothing but evil thoughts concerning him.

"That was rather a nasty letter you wrote to me, old chap--about clearing out of the place, you know," he began reproachfully.

"Aunt asked me to write it, and of course I had to. I don't want to rub it in, George, but you deceived the old lady badly, and you've been a frightful slacker," replied Percy.

"If it comes to deceit, I expect you put your best tomatoes on top of the basket," said George, opening a line of attack which made Percy cough uneasily, before he attempted to point out the difference between deceiving hostile tradesmen and affectionate relatives. "What do you propose doing?" he asked.

"This is my home," replied George firmly. "Somebody must be here to look after Aunt Sophy, keep up the property, and look after the servants."