A Whim, and Its Consequences / Collection of British Authors Vol. CXIV

by G. P. R. James

"Ay, very sad indeed, Sir William," said Lord Overton's agent; "but I suppose, of course, Sir, you do not take up the quarrel of your brother in a matter of business."

"Oh, certainly not, Mr. Grubbup," replied Sir William. "I do not take up his quarrels at all. But what I wished principally to know was this. How will the transaction between us be affected by the state of Lord Overton. He was not expected to live, I understand?"

"He is better, Sir William, he is better," answered the man of law. "There is every hope of his doing well. But even were it not so, I took a little precaution, luckily, after our last conference, with the approval of Mr. Roberts, which would render the arrangement binding upon his heirs, exors, and admors. I drew up this agreement of purchase and sale, which on Saturday last, not ten minutes before he went to the opera, I got him to sign. Nothing is wanting but your own signature, Sir William, and the transaction is complete."

"With the exception of the payment of the money," said Sir William Winslow; "but that is a very important part, Mr. Grubbup, especially at the present moment."

"But, Sir William," said the agent, "you know the timber--and it is only usual--"

"All very well, my good Sir," rejoined the young baronet, whose eyes had been running over the paper, and who assumed a very decided, not to say domineering tone; "but I see the question of the timber is provided for. It is, by this document, to be taken at a valuation, although I fixed my own valuation before. Let that pass, however; I will not contest that point. In regard to the payment, I am decided: I will sign no paper till I am made sure that, by the fifth of next month, at least one half of the purchase-money shall be paid into my hands. If you do not make me perfectly sure of that, I will dispose of the property at once to some one else. You know I have another offer."

Mr. Grubbup looked amazed and confounded; but Sir William Winslow convinced him he was in earnest, by informing him that he had, in fact, need of the sum of one hundred and twenty thousand pounds, on the day named. The man of law was terribly afraid of losing all the various comfortable pickings, which men of law get out of such transactions, if he did not comply; but, after a little bush-fighting, he found means to satisfy Sir William Winslow that all he desired should be done; and the baronet rode away with a feeling of triumphant joy in his heart, at the idea of soon possessing her who had inspired him with a passion which deserved hardly any other epithet than that of fierce.

CHAPTER XIX.

It was the evening of a beautiful day in February, when Chandos Winslow returned by the lanes at the back of Northferry house towards his gardener's cottage. The scene and the hour were peaceful; and their tranquillity overspread his heart as if a balm were poured upon it. Frosts had departed to the pole. A west wind, slightly veering to the south, had brought the breath of summer from the distant lands. The early-loving thrush was singing his first sweet song upon the top of a bare tree. It was very pleasant. Chandos wished he had been born a gardener. Nevertheless, he hurried his pace; for he had a rose to tend. He fancied--he hoped that she might soon be by the little basin of gold and silver fish; but he had only two ways of approaching it: one by the gate near his own house, one by that at the other end of the grounds, which would have brought him before the windows of the mansion. He went into the cottage then for the key; and there good dame Humphreys detained him, impatient, for a few minutes, telling him how kind Miss Rose had been, coming down often to see little Tim; and how the boy had been sent daily to the school in the village, from which he had not yet come back, though it was late; and how the gentleman, who had been there with him one night, (i. e. Lockwood,) had been there the night before, and again, not ten minutes before, asking about him, and exceedingly anxious to see him, and very much provoked to find he had not come back; and how he had gone away grumbling and mumbling, as the old woman called it, and saying to himself, that as he, Mr. Acton, was not there, he must do it himself, for there was no time to be lost.

Chandos did not mark her much; but merely telling her, if Lockwood returned, to say that he would be back in half-an-hour, he took up a light Dutch hoe, which stood in the corner of the cottage parlour, and went out to the garden.