The Hallam Succession

by Amelia E. Barr

And in his suspense he was half angry with Elizabeth. He thought she must divine his feelings, and might say a word which would relieve them, if she chose. He watched Richard jealously. He was sure that Richard would be averse to his future wife relinquishing any of her rights, and he could scarcely restrain the bitterness of his thoughts when he imagined Richard master of Hallam. And Richard, quite innocent of any such dream, preserved a calmness of manner, which Antony took to be positive proof of his satisfaction with affairs.

At length the funeral was over, and the will of the late squire made known. It was an absolute and bitter disappointment to Antony. “A good-will remembrance” of L1,000 was all that was left him; excepting the clause which enjoined Elizabeth to resell Hallam to him for L50,000, “if it seem reasonable and right so to do.” Elizabeth was in full possession and her father had taken every precaution to secure her rights, leaving her also practically unfettered as to the final disposition of the property.

But her situation was extremely painful, and many openly sympathized with Antony. “To leave such a bit o’ property as Hallam to a lass!” was against every popular tradition and feeling. Antony was regarded as a wronged man; and Richard as a plotting interloper, who added to all his other faults the unpardonable one of being a foreigner, “with a name that no Yorkshireman iver did hev?” This public sympathy, which he could see in every face and feel in every hand-shake, somewhat consoled Antony for the indifference his wife manifested on the subject.

“If you sold your right, you sold it,” she said, coldly; “it was a strange thing to do, but then you turn every thing into money.”

But to Elizabeth and Richard he manifested no ill-will. “Both of them might yet be of service to him;” for Antony was inclined to regard every one as a tool, which, for some purpose or other, he might want in the future.

He went back to London an anxious and disappointed man. There was also in the disappointment an element of humiliation. A large proportion of his London friends were unaware of his true position; and when, naturally enough, he was congratulated on his supposed accession to the Hallam property, he was obliged to decline the honor. There was for a few days a deal of talk in the clubs and exchanges on the subject, and many suppositions which were not all kindly ones. Such gossip in a city lasts but a week; but, unfortunately, the influence is far more abiding. People ceased to talk of the Hallam succession, but they remembered it, if brought into business contact with Antony, and it doubtless affected many a transaction.

In country places a social scandal is more permanent and more personally bitter. Richard could not remain many days ignorant of the dislike with which he was regarded. Even Lord Eltham, in this matter, had taken Antony’s part. “Squire Hallam were always varry queer in his ways,” he said; “but it beats a’, to leave a property like Hallam to a lass. Whativer’s to come o’ England if t’ land is put under women? I’d like to know that!”

“Ay; and a lass that’s going to wed hersel’ wi’ a foreign man. I reckon nowt o’ her. Such like goings on don’t suit my notions, Eltham.”

Just at this point in the conversation Richard passed the gossiping squires. He raised his hat, but none returned the courtesy. A Yorkshireman has, at least, the merit of perfect honesty in his likes and dislikes; and if Richard had cared to ask what offense he had given, he would have been told his fault with the frankest distinctness.

But Richard understood the feeling, and could afford to regard it tolerantly. “With their education and their inherited prejudices I should act the same,” he thought, “and how are they to know that I have positively refused the very position they suspect me of plotting to gain?”