It was a Lover and His Lass

by Mrs. Oliphant

"They know nothing about you; all that they know is, that somebody has stolen into their grandfather's regard, and got all their money—somebody that has nothing to do with the family. That's rather a bitter pill, for they're not rich. You might be an angel from heaven, and yet as you are not a Murray the family would feel it; but you may make yourself easy on the subject. There will be no opposition."

The insinuation and the re-assurance were alike astonishing to Lewis.

"If there is any ground on which to oppose it, I should wish that there should be opposition. I did not want Sir Patrick's money. I never thought of it—never knew he had any."

"You couldn't suppose," said Mr. Allenerly, with some disdain, "that all this was kept up on nothing?"

They were in Sir Patrick's rooms, where the young man had remained.

"That is true. No, surely it could not be kept up without money—and there was plenty of money—of course, I must have been aware of that; but I never thought of it—not for myself."

The lawyer was very prejudiced and extremely unwilling to allow himself to say anything, but after a little hesitation he burst forth, as if the confession had been forced from him, "I believe that."

"Then why should they think so badly of me?" Lewis said.

He did not make any rash proposal to give up the property, as perhaps a hot-headed young Englishman might have done. People who have been brought up abroad have more respect for money in itself than we have. If they do not seek after it so enterprisingly, neither do they separate themselves from it so lightly. There was no indignant flash of a proposal to undo Sir Patrick's will, and prove his disinterestedness beyond a question, in what Lewis said. That would have been foreign to all the habits of his mind. But he grew very grave from that time forth, a mood which suited well enough with his mourning. An intention formed itself in his mind almost immediately, which he did not at once carry out for a number of petty reasons each entirely unimportant in itself, but mounting up together into a certain reasonableness. It was not his grief, for he was young and his patron old, and the natural tears were wiped soon; nor the necessity of settling all his foreign affairs, getting rid of the house, selling or storing up the furniture and pictures, providing for the servants; but there were a number of other small things, including an illness which very naturally followed his long devotion to a sick old man.

At last, however, but not till Sir Patrick had been dead nearly a year, he set off for Scotland to carry out his intention. He was not seduced to London on the way, or to make any acquaintance with the wonders of England. London, to be sure, was growing empty and the season near its end. He came direct from one of the Dutch ports to Leith, and without any pause proceeded to the town which was the nearest, so far as he could make out, to Murkley. One night he had reposed himself in Edinburgh, and one in the "George." It was but three days now since he had crossed the sea, and here he was in Murkley, in the native place of his benefactor, on the very estate which had been his, near the house in which he was born. All this had produced a great effect upon the young man, and so did the conversation with Duncan and the new view of himself and his own conduct suggested by that worthy. Passing gusts of anger and uneasiness had crossed his mind, which were neutralized indeed by the amusing circumstances of his arrival and the novelty of the scene around. But when he had found himself alone that first evening, and the outer world shut out, it could not be denied that the usual peace of his mind was much disturbed. He no longer felt sure of himself, and that tranquil consciousness of having done and of meaning to do his best, which gave serenity to his character, failed him almost for the first time in his life. It was a painful experience to go through, but there was a satisfaction in the thought that he was now on the spot at least, and in the way of ascertaining exactly what the state of the matter was, and how he could best amend it, or if amendment was possible.