“Who wishes to see you?” said the baronet in a tone of surprise. He had caught the name, and thought at the moment that it was the owner of Groby Park.
“Lucius Mason,” said Peregrine, getting up. “I wonder what he can want me for?”
“Oh, Lucius Mason,” said the grandfather. Since the discourse about agriculture he was not personally much attached even to Lucius; but for his mother’s sake he could be forgiven.
“Pray ask him into lunch,” said Lady Staveley. Something had been said about Lady Mason since the Ormes had been at Noningsby, and the Staveley family were prepared to regard her with sympathy, and if necessary with the right hand of fellowship.
“He is the great agriculturist, is he not?” said Augustus. “Bring him in by all means; there is no knowing how much we may not learn before dinner on such a day as this.”
“He is an ally of mine; and you must not laugh at him,” said Miss Furnival, who was sitting next to Augustus.
But Lucius Mason did not come in. Young Orme remained with him for about a quarter of an hour, and then returned to the room, declaring with rather a serious face, that he must ride to Hamworth and back before dinner.
“Are you going with young Mason?” asked his grandfather.
“Yes, sir; he wishes me to do something for him at Hamworth, and I cannot well refuse him.”
“You are not going to fight a duel!” said Lady Staveley, holding up her hands in horror as the idea came across her brain.
“A duel!” screamed Mrs. Orme. “Oh, Peregrine!”
“There can be nothing of the sort,” said the judge. “I should think that young Mason is not so foolish; and I am sure that Peregrine Orme is not.”
“I have not heard of anything of the kind,” said Peregrine, laughing.
“Promise me, Peregrine,” said his mother. “Say that you promise me.”
“My dearest mother, I have no more thought of it than you have;—indeed I may say not so much.”
“You will be back to dinner?” said Lady Staveley.
“Oh yes, certainly.”
“And tell Mr. Mason,” said the judge, “that if he will return with you we shall be delighted to see him.”
The errand which took Peregrine Orme off to Hamworth will be explained in the next chapter, but his going led to a discussion among the gentlemen after dinner as to the position in which Lady Mason was now placed. There was no longer any possibility of keeping the matter secret, seeing that Mr. Dockwrath had taken great care that everyone in Hamworth should hear of it. He had openly declared that evidence would now be adduced to prove that Sir Joseph Mason’s widow had herself forged the will, and had said to many people that Mr. Mason of Groby had determined to indict her for forgery. This had gone so far that Lucius had declared as openly that he would prosecute the attorney for a libel, and Dockwrath had sent him word that he was quite welcome to do so if he pleased.
“It is a scandalous state of things,” said Sir Peregrine, speaking with much enthusiasm, and no little temper, on the subject. “Here is a question which was settled twenty years ago to the satisfaction of everyone who knew anything of the case, and now it is brought up again that two men may wreak their vengeance on a poor widow. They are not men; they are brutes.”
“But why does she not bring an action against this attorney?” said young Staveley.
“Such actions do not easily lie,” said his father. “It may be quite true that Dockwrath may have said all manner of evil things against this lady, and yet it may be very difficult to obtain evidence of a libel. It seems to me from what I have heard that the man himself wishes such an action to be brought.”
“And think of the state of poor Lady Mason!” said Mr. Furnival. “Conceive the misery which it would occasion her if she were dragged forward to give evidence on such a matter!”
“I believe it would kill her,” said Sir Peregrine.
“The best means of assisting her would be to give her some countenance,” said the judge; “and from all that I can hear of her, she deserves it.”
“She does deserve it,” said Sir Peregrine, “and she shall have it. The people at Hamworth shall see at any rate that my daughter regards her as a fit associate. I am happy to say that she is coming to The Cleeve on my return home, and that she will remain there till after Christmas.”
“It is a very singular case,” said Felix Graham, who had been thinking over the position of the lady hitherto in silence.
“Indeed it is,” said the judge; “and it shows how careful men should be in all matters relating to their wills. The will and the codicil, as it appears, are both in the handwriting of the widow, who acted as an amanuensis not only for her husband but for the attorney. That fact does not in my mind produce suspicion; but I do not doubt that it has produced all this suspicion in the mind of the claimant. The attorney who advised Sir Joseph should have known better.”
“It is one of those cases,” continued Graham, “in which the sufferer should be protected by the very fact of her own innocence. No lawyer should consent to take up the cudgels against her.”
“I am afraid that she will not escape persecution from any such professional chivalry,” said the judge.
“All that is moonshine,” said Mr. Furnival.
“And moonshine is a very pretty thing if you were not too much afraid of the night air to go and look at it. If the matter be as you all say, I do think that any gentleman would disgrace himself by lending a hand against her.”
“Upon
