The carriage drove up to the door; there came sounds of hurrying feet and fetching and carrying of luggage; Cecil took them downstairs, and then, with a last long embrace from Lance, and kisses interspersed with sobs from Gwen, she gave them up to her father, and turned to take leave of their nurse.
“I will take great care of them, miss,” said the maid, herself crying, “and you shall hear from me regularly.”
In another minute the carriage had driven away, and Cecil was left to make the best she might of what she could not but feel, at first, a desolate life.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Hardly had the bustle of departure quieted down at Rowan Tree House when a fresh anxiety arose. Herr Sivertsen, who had for some time been out of health, was seized with a fatal illness, and for three days and nights Frithiof was unable to leave him; on the third night the old Norseman passed quietly away, conscious to the last minute, and with his latest breath inveighing against the degeneracy of the age.
“Frithiof is a rare exception,” he said, turning his dim eyes toward Sigrid, who stood by the bedside. “And to him I leave all that I have. As for the general run of young men nowadays—I wash my hands of them—a worthless set—a degenerate—”
His voice died away, he sighed deeply, caught Frithiof’s hand in his, and fell back on the pillow lifeless.
When the will was read it affirmed that Herr Sivertsen, who had no relations living, had indeed left his property to Frithiof. The will was terse and eccentric in the extreme, and seemed like one of the old man’s own speeches, ending with the familiar words, “for he is one of the few honest and hard-working men in a despicable generation.”
Naturally there was only one way to which Frithiof could think of putting his legacy. Every penny of it went straight to his debt-fund. Mr. Horner heard of it and groaned. “What!” he exclaimed, “pay away the principal; hand over thousands of pounds in payment of debts that are not even his own—debts that don’t affect his name! He ought to put the money into this business, Boniface; it would only be a fitting way of showing you his gratitude.”
“He put into the business what I value far more,” said Mr. Boniface. “He put into it his honest Norwegian heart, and this legacy will save him many years of hard, weary work and anxiety.”