When a rich man dies the news soon spreads. Mr. Churchill had not neglected when he wrote to John Temple and the bankers, also to send an announcement of the squire’s death to the Times. This announcement was read on the following morning, as we have seen, by Ralph Webster, by Kathleen Weir, and also by Mr. Harrison, the solicitor, as well as the bankers.
Both Mr. Harrison and the bankers knew at this time where to find the heir. John Temple, after various restless wanderings, had gone to Cairo, and had written from there to his bankers, and also to Mr. Harrison, on business. Mr. Harrison read the news of Mr. Temple’s death, and at once telegraphed the information to his now rich client. And during the day the firm of bankers also telegraphed, and forwarded Mr. Churchill’s letter.
These two telegrams were a great shock to the lonely and unhappy man to whom they were addressed. John Temple had gone to Egypt to try and divert his mind, and the change had no doubt been good for him; but to learn that his uncle was dead, that Woodlea was now his, seemed to bring all the past back to him with fresh pain.
At first he determined not to return to England; not to accept the fortune and position which were now his. Then came Mr. Churchill’s letter—a distinct, explicit letter—and he knew as he read it that it was useless any longer to hide the truth. Mr. Churchill would insist on learning his daughter’s fate; would no doubt, now that he knew his address, find him out and force it from his lips.
With an intense feeling of shrinking pain John Temple therefore accepted the position thrust upon him. He telegraphed to Mrs. Temple at Woodlea that he would arrive there, he expected, on such a date, and he telegraphed also to Mr. Harrison. He did not, however, write to Mr. Churchill; he felt this was beyond his strength.
“I will tell him the truth,” he told himself, and tried to nerve himself for the bitter task. “They may do what they like,” he thought, gloomily; “I can not, I think, suffer more than I have already done.”
Mrs. Temple was greatly excited when she received this telegram. Her husband already lay in his grave, and had been followed there by his friends and tenantry. His young widow, however, did not go. She watched the long procession leave the Hall with dry eyes. She had got accustomed to the idea and was not even thinking of the dead when they bore him away.
Mr. Churchill was one of the mourners, and he could not help having a certain uneasy feeling in his mind as he listened to the solemn words of the service, while the old squire was laid by his young son’s side. He had heard from the bankers, who had informed him that Mr. John Temple was at Cairo, and that they had forwarded his letters to him there. But no word had come from John Temple in reply. Mr. Churchill, therefore, could not understand it. But surely soon the mystery would end; in fact it must end, Mr. Churchill determined, when he turned away from the squire’s grave.
And a day later brought John Temple’s telegram to Mrs. Temple. Her mother, who had not left the Hall since the squire’s death, carried it to her, and Mrs. Temple tore it open with trembling hands.
“He is coming home!” she cried, and that was all.