Lady L. had not increased her family since the birth of the twins, and they were, by this time, between four and five years old. Her ladyship now, however, expected to do so, and the event was to take place at Lodore.
Dr. Dixon, too, such was the almost superstitious confidence placed in him by Mrs. Montgomery, was to be again employed, which was matter of no small pride, as well as delight of heart, to the good old man.
He did not fail, as may be believed, to mention in every house in Keswick, and that before he felt a pulse, or even contemplated the hue of a tongue, that an humble individual like himself, had been selected to usher into this eventful life the future Earl of L. “For it would be a boy, no doubt,” ran on the Doctor, “as there are already two girls; lovely little creatures!—the Ladies Julia and Frances L. Both the future brides of noble earls, doubtless. But, respecting the seniority of the Lady Julia L.,” continued the Doctor, proud of having it in his power to give little people so much information about great people, “the circumstances are very remarkable—very remarkable, indeed! And if her little ladyship makes as good use of her time through life, as she did for the first three quarters of an hour, she will be fortunate—very fortunate—no doubt of it! Three quarters of an hour only, the elder of her fair sister; yet, by that short space, is her ladyship entitled to the sum of three thousand pounds per annum; to which fine property, situated in the shire of ——, her ladyship is, by the will of the late Major Morven, of age on the day that she completes her eighteenth year. The property has on it, the Earl tells me, a fine old family-seat, called the Craigs, with wood, they say, worth forty thousand pounds! The mansion, too, I understand, contains a gallery of invaluable pictures, a fine library, with service of plate, &c.”
The old gentleman made a very curious will, leaving the young lady entirely her own mistress, independent of father, mother, or guardian. “For,” said the good major, “I had not been an old bachelor, had they let me follow my own way in my youth.” “I was one of the witnesses myself,” continued the doctor, “and heard him say these words. The major was gallant, you see, as all soldiers should be, and was determined that his will, should not thwart the will of a lady! The will! the will! Well, come, that’s very fair, a’n’t it?”
About this time, Mrs. Montgomery received a letter from the master of the S— B— school, stating, that he had been obliged, however reluctantly, to expel Mr. St. Aubin from his establishment, for the following offences, namely,—many scandalous irregularities, respecting the young women of the village; holding intercourse with the crew of a smuggling vessel, laying off S— B— head; absenting himself for days and nights, it is supposed on board the said vessel; and re-appearing in a shameful state of intoxication.
Soon after this epistle had been read, and before its contents had been half talked over, Henry himself arrived. Some charges he denied, others scoffed at; but did not succeed in satisfying Mrs. Montgomery.
He was sitting with her and Lady L. in the breakfast-room, which opens on the lawn. Speaking in answer to the account of his being supposed to have formed an unjustifiable intimacy, at least, if not a marriage, with Betsy Park, he said: “You must know, ma’am, the people of that village are always getting some one to swear that their daughters are married to every gentleman’s son in the school, just to extort money. They consider it quite a trade, I assure you,” he added; seeing that what he had said had made some impression. At this moment, a tradesman-like looking man appeared on the lawn.
On perceiving Henry, instead of directing his steps to the regular entrance, he came up to the French window, or glass-door, which was standing open. Stopping a moment, he said, respectfully, to Mrs. Montgomery: “May I comeb ene, madam?” His dress and manner were so decent, and he seemed so much heated and fatigued, that, without hesitation, she said: “Certainly, sir.” He put the lifted foot, which had waited in that position for her reply, over the threshold, and, turning to Henry, said, in a determined manner: “Where is my Bess, sir? Where is my bairn?”
“You needn’t ask me,” replied Henry, turning pale, and speaking as though a lock-jaw were coming on; “the last I saw of her was in your own house.”