Englefield Grange; or, Mary Armstrong's Troubles

by Mrs. H. B. Paull

On the strength of this he had taken furnished apartments for three months, and he and his wife were on their way to fetch the children from Englefield Grange on the day which had ended so fatally.

The lawyer, Mr. Norton, to whom Henry had introduced his brother-in-law, resided at Kilburn, and an arrangement had been made for him to meet his clients at the Grange and for Henry to witness Mrs. Franklyn's signature.

All this Arthur Franklyn remembered as he paced his bedroom long after midnight, and knew that the fortune, to obtain which he had married a second time, was lost to him for ever.

Had he only secured for himself the 2000l. he might have been saved from ruin, but now even that was denied him—that which had already cost him so much. To obtain the consent of the trustees he had made false statements of his position in Melbourne, and of the merchants whom he affirmed were ready to receive him as a partner.

Mrs. Franklyn had herself proved at first his greatest difficulty. She was a woman who thought only of self; she had been a widow for six years, and during that time had saved from her income several hundred pounds, which in the first happy days of her marriage she had made over to Arthur, and afterwards regretted the generous impulse. She had concealed from him the fact that her property was vested in the power of trustees, and when the hundreds in the Melbourne bank were being transferred to her husband's name she had said laughingly, "There is nothing to thank me for, Arthur, what is mine is yours now."

Arthur Franklyn would never have made a good lawyer, even had he continued to follow his profession; but he knew well enough that his power over the property of his intended wife should have been secured before their marriage, and this he dared not attempt to do in an open and straightforward manner, because his own affairs were in a state of hopeless insolvency.

Not only so, but he quickly discovered that he had a rival in the affections of the lady he wished to marry, and that rival was money. To ask her the question whether her property was at her own disposal was one he dared not venture upon. With his usual want of prudence, therefore, he determined to chance it, and trust to his own power of persuasion to obtain money when he wanted it, even should there be trustees looming in the distance.

And now, just as all difficulties had been overcome, and his most sanguine hopes realised, comes this terrible destruction to all his schemes.

"Had Louisa only lived another day," he said to himself, "all might have been well; but now—ruin, poverty, and disgrace are all that are left for me and my children." Yet even at this critical moment, had he been truthful and candid instead of trusting with his usual self-sufficiency that he should overcome this difficulty as he had done others before—had he made a confidant of his brother-in-law, and told him the whole truth, what a terrible amount of sorrow and remorse he might have been spared.

But no, he could not so humiliate himself to his first wife's relations. What! own his real position, and ask for help and sympathy after boasting of the style in which he and Fanny had lived, and of the superior education he had given his children?