The Fortune of the Landrays

by Vaughan Kester

The second year passed much as the first had done, and now Virginia understood that Benson wished to wholly separate her from the boy.

The lawyer had arranged that she should receive periodic reports as to his health and progress. As these were always satisfactory, she had no grounds for demanding that he should be brought back. She had Stephen's own letters, too, which after he had outgrown his first feeling of homesickness, showed that he was quite happy and contented. But with the passing of time his letters became more and more perfunctory.

Benson he saw once or twice each year, and his affection steadily strengthened toward him. His Uncle Jacob was able and generally quite willing to confer most tangible benefits, he could not have been more generous, nor have shown a greater readiness to do for him in all reasonable ways; and Stephen early learned that an appeal to him was certain of results. These benefits might be accompanied by admonitory hints as to the folly of extravagance, but he could always skip these hints, and the lawyer's check was an asset that gave him great prestige among his fellows.

He was fortunate in his teachers perhaps, and it was all in his favour that he was constitutionally predisposed to good influences, and that they made a lasting impression on him; since his development was largely a matter of chance, he might easily have gone very far wrong and no one been the wiser.

After the first two or three years at school, he gave up all idea, as he lost all desire, to return to Benson. His summers were passed agreeably enough just where he was. He could safely count on his Uncle Jacob coming East during his vacation, and then there were pleasant trips to the mountains or seashore.

Benson rarely spoke of his aunt to him. He early sensed it that they were not friends, and he adapted himself to what he considered the lawyer's prejudices. He gradually ceased to inquire about Reddy or Benjamin Wade or Spike, for here the lawyer's information was meagre and uncertain; and after a few years his Aunt Virginia, the boys, Peter the gardener, and Mrs. Pope the housekeeper, fitted into the background of those hazy memories that now made up the substance of his life in the Ohio town. He came more and more to think of the lawyer as a solitary man without friendships or associations, and save in his own case, as both lonely and unapproachable. It would have surprised him not a little had he been told that in his own circle Benson was a powerful and dominating figure, even sinister at times, with concerns and interests whose magnitude exceeded anything he could have imagined possible.

His feeling of mingled tenderness and pity increased as he grew toward manhood. He wished his Uncle Jacob could be made fully aware of his affection, but he was always conscious that there was something in the lawyer's manner that repelled any emotional display; that beneath his kindly dignity, the fibre of his nature was cold and hard. The utter barrenness of his life, as the boy imagined it, explained this. It was the awkwardness of one who had lived much in solitude, with few intimates and fewer friends.

He had been away at school ten years, when something occurred which took him back to the very limits at which his memory was active, and which showed him that Benson might have intimacies of which he did not know. He had written for money, and instead of the usual letter from Benson, there came one in a strange hand. Mr. Benson was absorbed in important litigation, the writer said, and had requested him to see to the mailing of the enclosed draft; the writer also ventured the hope that his young friend had not altogether forgotten him, in spite of the years that had intervened since their last meeting. The letter was signed with a flourish, Nathan Gibbs.

Stephen remembered vaguely that there was such a man, but whether he really remembered him, or only remembered having been told of him, he could not have said. He wondered though how long Gibbs had been in Benson, and why his Uncle Jacob had never mentioned him.

Gibbs, once started on the down grade, had gone from bad to worse. There had been ten doleful years during which he had sunk lower and lower. Now and again he had made a manful rally to recover his lost estate, but it was no use. Finally such a point was reached that his Julia took matters into her own hands. She had written Benson, and her letter had been an urgent appeal for assistance. The lawyer had heeded it, but he had no intention of helping Gibbs at arm's length. If he was to make himself responsible for the general's future, he would have to be close at hand where he could keep him under some sort of surveillance.