One of My Sons Part 18

"Alfred?" Her eyes no longer met those of the coroner or anyone else in that cruel crowd. "He," she stammered proudly, "has never interfered with whatever claims his brother may have been supposed to have upon my favour."

It was a statement to awaken turmoil in more than one of the uneasy hearts behind her. George bounded to his feet, though he quickly subsided again into his seat, ashamed of this betrayal, or fearful of the effect it might have upon his brother. Alfred, on the contrary, sat still, but the bitterness visible in his smile spoke volumes, and, seeing it, the whole crowd recognised what had long been apparent to myself, that these two brothers were rivals in the love they bore this woman, and that it was through her desire to shield the one she favoured, that she made the first false move which had drawn the attention of the police to the doubtful position held by Mr.

Gillespie's sons.

That her choice had fallen upon the man who had not interfered with his brother's rights seemed only too probable, and I expected the coroner to force this acknowledgment from her lips, but he grew considerate all at once and inquired instead if Mr. Gillespie had been made aware of his elder son's wishes. She replied to this by saying:

"They were no secret in the house"; and, with a look, begged him to spare her.

But this man was inexorable.

"And did he approve of the match?"

"He did."

"Yet you failed to engage yourself?"

This she deemed already answered.

"If the younger brother had pressed his suit for your hand, do you think that under the circ.u.mstances your uncle would have sanctioned such rivalry?"

This, perhaps, she could not answer. At all events she was as silent as before.

"Miss Meredith," proceeded her tormentor, utterly oblivious or entirely careless of the suffering he caused her, "do you know whether your uncle and his youngest son ever had any words on this subject?"

Her hands involuntarily flew out in piteous entreaty.

"Ask this question of the only person who can answer it," she cried.

"I only know that I have been treated with great respect in the house of my uncle."

With that, the proceedings closed for the day.

XIV

A SUDDEN TURN

Dr. Frisbie's point had been made. As we separated to our several destinations for the night, it was with the universally expressed conviction that this young girl, for all her beauty and attractive qualities, had been an apple of discord in her uncle's house, and that in this fact, rather than in an impatient desire to enjoy the wealth of a man who was never close with his sons, the unnatural crime we were considering had originated.

The evidence elicited from the first witness called to the stand on the following morning tended to substantiate this conclusion.

Nellie Stryker, an old inmate of the Gillespie house, answered the coroner's questions with great reluctance. She had been maid to Mrs.

Gillespie, nurse to all the children, and a trusted servant in the household ever since the latter grew beyond her care. Of the attempts made upon her master's life, the last of which had been only too successful, she knew little and that only by hearsay, but she was not quite so ignorant concerning a certain conversation which had been held one morning in Mr. Gillespie's room between that gentleman and his youngest son. She was sitting at her needle in the adjoining dressing-closet, and, whether her presence there was unsuspected by her master or simply ignored, they both talked quite freely and she heard every word.

Urged to repeat this conversation, the good old soul showed a shamefaced reluctance which bore out her reputation for honesty and discretion. But she was not allowed to escape the examination set for her. After repeated questions and a show of extreme patience on the part of the coroner, she admitted that the topic discussed was the state of Mr. Alfred's affections. This young gentleman, as was publicly known, had lately engaged himself to a Southern lady of great pride and high social distinction; and his present disagreement with his father arose out of his wish to break this engagement. His father had no patience with such fickleness, and their words ran high.

Finally, Alfred threatened to follow his own wishes in the matter, whether it gave satisfaction all round or no; declaring that he had been a fool to tie himself to a girl he cared nothing about, but that he would be a still greater one if he let the mistake of a moment mar his happiness for life. But the old gentleman's sense of honour was very keen, and he continued to urge the claims of the Southern lady, till his son impetuously blurted out:

"I thought you wanted one of us to marry Hope?"

This caused a break in the conversation.

"Do you care for Hope?" the old gentleman asked. "I thought it was well understood in this house that George, not you, was to be given the first opportunity of winning her."

The oath with which Alfred answered was shocking to Nellie's ears, and affected her so deeply that she heard nothing more till these words caught her attention:

"George has everything he wants; unlimited indulgence in each and every fancy, the liking of all the men, and the love of all the women.

I am not so fortunate; I am neither a favourite with my mates nor the petted darling of their sisters; I like my ease, but I could give that up for Hope. She is the only woman I have ever seen capable of influencing me. I have been quite a different man since she came into the house. If that is love, it is a very strong love; such love as makes a man out of a n.o.body. Father, let me have this darling girl for my wife. George does not care for her,--not as I do. He would be a better fellow if he did."

Mr. Gillespie seemed quite upset. He loved this son as the apple of his eye, and would very possibly have been glad to see the matter so adjusted, but it did not tally with his idea of what people had a right to expect from his sons, and he told Alfred so in rather strong language.

"Can you remember that language?" asked the coroner.

She tried to make him believe, and herself too, no doubt, that her memory would not serve her to this extent; but her honesty eventually triumphed over her devotion to the family interests, and she finally admitted that the old gentleman had said:

"While I live I will not put up with rivalry of any kind between my sons. George is fond of Hope, and I long ago gave him my permission to woo and marry her. That you are the child of my heart shall not make me blind to the rights of one I loved before you ever saw the light.

Were I to permit such shilly-shallying, George would have a right to reproach me with his wasted life. No; the influence which you call so great must be exerted in his behalf rather than yours. He needs it, Alfred, as much, if not more than you do. As to your present engagement, you may break it or you may keep it, but do not expect me to uphold you in any love-making with your brother's choice till Hope has openly signified her absolute refusal of his attentions. This she is not likely to do; George has too many conspicuous attractions."

"She has refused him once."

"Not because her fancy was caught by his younger brother, but because she wished to see some reformation in his habits. In this she was perfectly right. George will have to change his mode of life very materially before he can be regarded as worthy of such a wife."

"The same might be said of me; but I am no George. I am anxious to make such a change. Yet you give me no encouragement in my efforts, and even deny me the opportunity of winning her affections."

"You were not the first to enter the field. Your older brother has the prior right, and, as I view the matter, the only right, to approach Hope in the att.i.tude of a lover."

The oaths which this excited turned the poor old listener cold. Alfred could not see the justice of his brother's course, and stormed away about fairness being shown to the young girl herself, who possibly looked upon the matter in another light than he did.

"Then you have been making love to her on the sly!" vociferated Mr.

Gillespie, totally forgetting himself.

But this the young man denied. If he understood her better than others did, it was because he loved her better. He was positive that she did not care for his brother, and all but certain she did care for himself. At all events he flattered himself to this extent. This called forth a few more bitter words from his father, and Alfred went out, banging the door behind him.

"And did you see any change in the manner of Mr. Gillespie towards his sons after this misunderstanding with Alfred?"

The witness appeared to weigh her words; but, when she answered, it was evident her care arose from a desire to present the subject fairly.

"I thought Mr. Gillespie talked less and looked about him more. And the young gentlemen seemed conscious of this change in him, for they were very careful not to show their feelings too plainly in his presence."

"Yet there was a manifested distrust between them?"

"I fear so."

"Amounting to animosity?"

"That I cannot say. I never heard them exchange hard words; only neither of them would leave the field open to the other. If Mr. George stayed home, Mr. Alfred found some excuse for doing so also; and if Mr. Alfred showed a disposition to linger in the parlour, Mr. George brought in his friends and made a social evening of it."

"And is this all you can tell us?"