A Search For A Secret: A Novel. Vol. 3

by G. A. Henty

Mr. Petersfield besides acting as our man of business in the affair, was one of the executors; for Mr. Ransome and papa, who were the two originally named, being both dead, he, with James Fielding, who was appointed at Sophy's request, acted as executors, and arranged the whole business with as little trouble to us as possible.

In accordance with the terms of the will, as soon as we were fairly in possession, Harmer Place was ordered to be pulled down, and the estate, which was part of Sophy's share, was by her wishes, soon afterwards advertised to be sold.

And so at last we were really rich. I could hardly believe that it was true; for I had for so long given up all hopes of ever finding the will. However, I was very glad for all our sakes that it was so, and I was very pleased to think that dear Polly was now placed beyond all possibility of a reverse of fortune; for Charley insisted on executing a deed settling the whole of her share upon her; not, as he said, that he had any reason to fear such an event—for he was doing a capital business—still it was as well to be prepared for all possible eventualities.

And so Sophy and I left Canterbury together, but with very different feelings in so doing. I with some little regret, for I dearly loved the old town where I had lived so many happy years; and to which I had gone back as to a haven of rest, in the time of my great sorrow. How different were my feelings now from those with which I had come down little more than a year before! Then I believed that all hope was for ever dead, that my life, as far as pleasure and happiness were concerned was over; and that the most I could ever look forward to or strive for, was a chastened content in my lonely life. But now how bright was my prospect! with Percy alive and soon to return, with every obstacle to our union cleared away, with a happy, happy future with him to look forward to! And yet, happy as I was, as I looked from the window of the train, and caught the last sight of the dear old town, and its stately cathedral, I could not help a little sigh of regret at leaving it, and all the friends who had been so kind to me in my hour of sadness.

But with Sophy it was quite otherwise, and she gave what she told me was a sigh of relief at leaving it for ever behind. The place was to her hateful, every association connected with it full of pain, and she felt happy in the thought that she was leaving it never to return.

Polly and Charley received us joyfully at Putney, and I was very, very glad to be with them. Polly was a mother now, a son having been born to her a few days after the will was found. The meeting between Sophy and her child was very pitiful; she kissed him and cried over him, while the little fellow, in his joy at seeing her again, could not understand her tears, and could only stroke her thin cheeks and say, "Don't cry, mammy; mammy has got her little Jamie again, she must not cry any more."

Sophy stayed with us for a week, and then took rooms near us. She was still pale and weak, and did not gain strength as she should have done. She never spoke of the past, except upon one occasion before we came up to town, when she related to me the whole circumstances of her finding the will; except on that occasion she never mentioned the past, and the slightest allusion to it excited a nervous horror in her, and greatly retarded her recovery. The medical men said that her brain had not recovered from the terrible strain upon it, and that a perfect change was necessary, and a total absence of anything which might, by recalling the past, tend to excite her.

Accordingly, about two months after coming up to town, she started for the continent, taking with her a maid, and a young lady as governess for her little boy, and companion to herself, and accompanied by James Fielding and his wife, who were only going for a short time, but who took charge of her as far as Florence, which was her destination, at any rate for the present.

Her letters tell me that she is much better, and that she is happy with her boy. She has spent a fortnight with her old friends, leaving her companion and maid at Florence, and living with them as before as one of themselves. I earnestly hope that this improvement may continue, and that Sophy may have happy days yet in store for her. Poor girl, she has indeed suffered sorely, and has paid dearly for the fault she committed. And yet I have always thought that the fault was not all hers, and that had it not been for the harsh verdict of society against her, she would never have fallen so easy a victim to the snares of Robert Gregory, at a time when her wounded feelings led her to cling to any one who would show her kindness. However, I may be mistaken. Society certainly never took any of the blame of her misdeeds upon itself, and she alone has paid the penalty. I trust that that penalty is now paid in full, and that her future life may in some sort atone to her for the unhappiness of the past.

In due course I received a letter from Harry, in answer to mine announcing the recovery of the will. He said that he was delighted to hear of it, not so much for his own sake as for that of his wife, for that the climate of Australia did not suit her; the hot winds and sudden changes were very trying to her constitution, and he should therefore, as soon as he could be relieved, return to England, and carry out his original plan of buying a partnership in a good firm in London.