The squire had not written to Richard about his plans for the succession of Hallam. He had felt more uncertainty on the subject than he would admit even to his own heart. He thought he would prefer to explain matters to him in person. So, one morning, as they were together, he said “Look ‘ee here, Richard!” and he led him to the portrait of Colonel Alfred Hallam. “Thou can see where ta comes from. Thou is t’ varry marrow o’ that Hallam!”
Richard was much pleased at the incident, and he traced with pleasure the resemblances between them.
“Richard, I am going to leave Hallam to thee.”
It was not in the squire’s nature to “introduce” a subject. He could never half say a thing. His bald statement made Richard look curiously at him. He never for a moment believed him to mean what the words implied. So he only smiled and bowed.
“Nay, thou needn’t laugh! It’s no laughing matter. I’ll tell thee all about it.”
In the squire’s way of telling, the tale was a very short one. The facts were stated in a few sentences, without comment. They amazed Richard, and left him for a moment speechless.
“Well, what does ta say?”
“I will be as frank as you have been, uncle. I cannot possibly accept your offer.”
“Thou’lt hev a reason?”
“More than one. First, I would not change my name. I should feel as if I had slandered the Fontaines. My father was a brave soldier; my grandfather was a missionary, whose praise is in all our churches. I need go no farther back. If I had been born ‘Hallam’ I would have stood by the name just as firmly.”