But let us return to the Colonel’s lady.
She continues:
‘We are not wealthy, you see,’ she was wont to say to the kind-hearted Belgian ladies, when they called on her for a subscription. ‘We are, I may say, living quite up to our income, and we have got our duty to do to the family, and the Colonel keeps the money-bags so tight that I can never get a franc. But what I can do I do, and, after all, it matters little—the contemptible dross of the world—if I can give to the needy the riches, that never fade nor pass away, of the Divine Word.’
And thus the lady excused to herself, as so many of us do, her lack of true charity.
‘Well,’ said the Colonel, ‘what shall I say to this Wentworth?’
‘Take no notice of him. Refer him to your lawyer in London. The path of duty is very clear. We find ourselves, by a merciful interposition of Providence, restored to our rightful position in society. You to take your place as the head of one of the old county families, I to still labour for my blessed Master in a sphere of increased usefulness. You owe it to your family to at once take possession of the title and estate, and not to have a moment’s delay.’
‘But,’ said the Colonel, ‘if there should be a grain of truth in this cock-and-bull story it might be awkward. I should like to have an inquiry made about this boy.’
‘Pray, do nothing of the kind. You only open the way to fraud and imposition. Your late brother never treated us fairly. He was often positively rude to me, and his son—if this boy is such—has no claims on us.’
‘Well,’ said the Colonel, ‘I should not like to behave shabbily.’
‘What do you mean, Colonel?’ said the lady indignantly. ‘I am not the one to recommend you to do that. The boy is no concern of ours. We take what the law gives us. It is a duty we owe to society to do that. I am aware,’ added the lady, ‘that Sir Watkin had a son, that the infant was stolen, and that the dead body was placed in the family vault. Not all the lawyers in London, and they are bad enough, can upset that.’