Afloat and Ashore: A Sea Tale

by James Fenimore Cooper

I assented, and we continued to walk the lobby till the end of the act. Major Merton was always gentleman-like; and he even behaved to me, as if he remembered the many obligations he was under. He now communicated several little facts connected with his own circumstances, alluding to the probability of his remaining in America a few years. Our chat continued some time, my looks frequently turning towards the door of the box, when my companion suddenly observed—

“Your old acquaintances the Hardinges have had a lucky wind-fall—one, I fancy, they hardly expected, a few years Since.”

“Probably not; though the estate has fallen into excellent hands,” I answered. “I am surprised, however, that Mrs. Bradfort did not leave the property to the old gentleman, as it once belonged to their common grandfather, and he properly stood next in succession.”

“I fancy she thought the good parson would not know what to do with it. Now, Rupert Hardinge is clever, and spirited, and in a way to make a figure in the world; and it is probably in better hands, than if it had been left first to the old gentleman.”

“The old gentleman has been a faithful steward to me, and I doubt not would have proved equally so to his own children. But, does Rupert get all Mrs. Bradfort's property?”

“I believe not; there is some sort of a trust, I have heard him say; and I rather fancy that his sister has some direct or reversionary interest. Perhaps she is named as the heir, if he die without issue. There was a silly story, that Mrs. Bradfort had left everything to Lucy; but I have, it from the best authority, that that is not true—” The idea of Rupert Hardinge's being the “best authority” for any thing; a fellow who never knew what unadulterated truth was, from the time he was in petticoats, or could talk!—“As I know there is a trust, though one of no great moment; I presume Lucy has some contingent interest, subject, most probably, to her marrying with her brother's approbation, or some such provision. The old lady was sagacious, and no doubt did all that was necessary.”

It is wonderful how people daily deceive themselves on the subject of property; those who care the most about it, appearing to make the greatest blunders. In the way of bequests, in particular, the lies that are told are marvellous. It is now many years since I learned to take no heed of rumours on such subjects, and least of all, rumours that come from the class of the money-gripers. Such people refer everything to dollars, and seldom converse a minute without using the word. Here, however, was Major Merton evidently Rupert's dupe; though with what probable consequences, it was not in my power to foresee. It was clearly not my business to undeceive him; and the conversation, getting to be embarrassing, I was not sorry to hear the movement which announced the end of the act. At the box door, to my great regret, we met Mrs. Drewett retiring, the ladies finding the farce dull, and not worth the time lost in listening to it. Rupert gave me an uneasy glance, and he even dragged me aside to whisper—“Miles, what I told you this evening, is strictly a family secret, and was entrusted to a friend.”

“I have nothing to do with your private concerns, Rupert—” I answered,—“only, let me expect you to act honourably, especially when women are concerned.”

“Everything will come right, depend on it; the truth will set everything right, and all will come out, just as I predicted.”

I saw Lucy looking anxiously around, while Drewett had gone to order the carriages to advance, and I hoped it might be for me. In a moment I was by her side; at the next, Mr. Andrew Drewett offered his arm, saying, her carriage “stopped the way.” We moved into the outer lobby, in a body, and then it was found that Mrs. Drewett's carriage was up first, while Lucy's was in the rear. Yes, Lucy's carriage!—the dear girl having come into immediate possession of her relative's houses, furniture, horses, carriages, and everything else, without reserve, just as they had been left behind by the last incumbent, when she departed from the scene of life, to lie down in the grave. Mrs. Bradfort's arms were still on the chariot, I observed, its owner refusing all Rupert's solicitations to supplant them by those of Hardinge. The latter took his revenge, however, by telling everybody how generous he was in keeping a carriage for his sister.