“Not to interrupt the explanation,” said Dr. Marjoribanks, “which we’ll all be glad to hear—but Mr. Wentworth’s a young man, not possessed, so far as I am aware, of any particular right;—except that he has been very generous and prompt in offering his services,” said the Doctor, moved to the admission by a fiery glance from the Curate’s eye, which somehow did not look like the eye of a guilty man. “I was thinking, an old man, and an old friend, like myself, might maybe be a better guardian for the ladies’ interests—”
Mr. Proctor, who had been listening very anxiously, was seized with a cough at this moment, which drowned out the Doctor’s words. It was a preparatory cough, and out of it the late Rector rushed into speech. “I have come from—from Oxford to be of use,” said the new champion. “My time is entirely at my own—at Miss Wodehouse’s—at the Miss Wodehouses’ disposal. I am most desirous to be of use,” said Mr. Proctor, anxiously. And he advanced close to the table to prefer his claim.
“Such a discussion seems quite unnecessary,” said Mr. Wentworth, with some haughtiness. “I shall certainly do in the meantime what has been entrusted to me. At present we are simply losing time.”
“But—” said the Rector. The word was not of importance nor uttered with much resolution, but it arrested Mr. Wentworth more surely than the shout of a multitude. He turned sharp round upon his adversary, and said “Well?” with an air of exasperation; while Wodehouse, who had been lounging about the room in a discomfited condition, drew near to listen.
“I am comparatively a stranger to the Miss Wodehouses,” said Mr. Morgan; “still I am their clergyman; and I think with Dr. Marjoribanks, that a young man like Mr. Wentworth, especially a man so seriously compromised—”
“Oh, stop! I do think you are all a great deal too hard upon Mr. Wentworth,” said the lawyer, with a laugh of toleration, which Wodehouse echoed behind him with a sense of temerity that made his laughter all the louder. He was frightened, but he was glad to make himself offensive, according to his nature. Mr. Wentworth stood alone, for his part, and had to put up with the laugh as he best could.
“If anyone here wishes to injure me with the Miss Wodehouses, an opportunity may easily be found,” said the Curate, with as much composure as he could muster; “and I am ready to relinquish my charge when they call on me to do so. In the meantime, this is not the place to investigate my conduct. Sit down, sir, and let us be free of your interference for this moment at least,” he said, fiercely, turning to the new heir. “I warn you again, you have nothing but justice to expect at my hands. Mr. Waters, we wait your explanations.” He was the tallest man in the room, which perhaps had something to do with it; the youngest, best born, and best endowed. That he would have carried the day triumphantly in the opinion of any popular audience, there could be no kind of doubt. Even in this middle-aged unimpressionable assembly, his indignant self-control had a certain influence. When he drew a chair towards the table and seated himself, the others sat down unawares, and the lawyer began his story without any further interruption. The explanation of all was, that Mr. Wodehouse, like so many men, had an ambition to end his days as a country gentleman. He had set his heart for years on an estate in the neighbourhood of Carlingford, and had just completed his long-contemplated purchase at the moment of his last seizure. Nobody knew, except the Curate and the lawyer, what the cause of that seizure was. They exchanged looks without being aware of it, and Wodehouse, still more deeply conscious, uttered, poor wretch! a kind of gasp, which sounded like a laugh to the other horrified spectators. After all, it was his crime which had brought him his good fortune, for there had been an early will relating to property which existed no longer—property which had been altogether absorbed in the newly-acquired estate. “I have no doubt my late excellent partner would have made a settlement had the time been permitted him,” said Mr. Waters. “I have not the slightest doubt as to his intentions; but the end was very unexpected at the last. I suppose death always is unexpected when it comes,” said the lawyer, with a little solemnity, recollecting that three of his auditors were clergymen. “The result is painful in many respects; but law is law, and such accidents cannot be entirely avoided. With the exception of a few trifling personal matters, and the furniture, and a little money at the bank, there is nothing but freehold property, and of course the son takes that. I can have no possible objection to your consulting Mr. Brown; but Mr. Brown can give you no further information.” If there had been any little hope of possible redress lingering in the mind of the perplexed assembly, this brought it to a conclusion. The heir, who had been keeping behind with an impulse of natural shame, came back to the table when his rights were so clearly established. He did not know how to behave himself with a good grace, but he was disposed to be conciliatory, as far as he could, especially as it began to be disagreeably apparent that the possession of his father’s property might not make any particular difference in the world’s opinion of himself.
“It aint my fault, gentlemen,” said Wodehouse. “Of course, I expected the governor to take care of the girls. I’ve been kept out of it for twenty years, and that’s a long time. By Jove! I’ve never known what it was to be a rich man’s son since I was a lad. I don’t
