Everything was going out and nothing coming in; and yet he shrank from saying to Palma:
“We cannot afford another pair of new gloves even, dear,” or to do anything but smile in her face when she would only ask him to go with her to a lunch party at Mrs. Duncan’s, or to a five-o’clock tea at Miss Christiansen’s.
If Ran had only known their straits as he bounded daily up and down the stairs, too full of life and energy to avail himself of the elevator, how gladly, how joyously, would he have poured into his cousin’s lap wealth from his own abundant means, nor ever dreamed of offering offense in proffering what he himself, in their reversed circumstances, would have been frankly willing to receive from them.
But he knew nothing, suspected nothing, of their poverty; and even if he had known, and had offered to give assistance, Cleve Stuart, in his spirit of pride or independence, would have refused it.
Ran held firmly to his purpose of giving his cousin a fair share of their grandfather’s estate, as soon as he himself should be put in lawful possession, which was only a question of a few weeks’ time; but he said nothing more about it to either Palma or Cleve. He thought they understood his intentions, and believed in them, and that it would be in bad taste to refer to them again. Besides, he did not suspect how dark the future looked to one of them at least, and what a source of anxiety it was.
What the young pair really thought of their cousin’s offer to share, was just this—that it had been made, not from a delicate sense of justice that would stand the test of time and opportunity, but from a sudden impulse of generosity that might yield to cool afterthought. Neither of them placed much reliance on the offer, especially as they had repudiated it at the time, and Ran had never renewed it.
The day for young Hay’s departure for England was at length fixed. He was to sail on the second of December. It had been first suggested that Mr. Samuel Walling should attend him to England, and introduce him personally to the London solicitors of the Hays of Haymore; but, as usual, Mr. Will put in his plea of overwork, brain exhaustion, want of change, and so on, and, as usual, his claim was allowed, and it was decided that he should accompany the young heir.
The aged priest, Father Pedro de Leon, having under oath testified to the identity of Randolph Hay, had bidden an affectionate good-by to his pupil and returned to his flock in San Francisco.
It was remarkable that while Mr. Sam Walling, the head of the firm of Walling & Walling, took all the heaviest responsibilities, did all the hardest work, seldom left his desk during the office hours, and never left the city except on business, Mr. Will, the junior partner, required all the relaxation in frequent visits to Newport and Saratoga during the summer months, and Washington and even Savannah during the winter season. And now it seemed absolutely necessary that Mr. Will should have a sea voyage to restore the shaken equilibrium of his overtasked mind and body.
“That’s just it!” Mrs. Walling said one day to Ran when speaking of the trip to England. “Our firm, as a firm, is always full of work, yet manages to have a good deal of play also; only Sam takes the work and Will the play.”