The estates were entailed on the next heir-at-law, while such property as the colonel could leave was given to his well-beloved sister, Madam Everard.
He had not, however, been a saving man; indeed, the expenses of his position had been considerable, and the sum was but small. Mabel and her aunt were to remain in possession of Stanmore Park till the return of Captain Everard from sea.
The funeral was over, and once more the household settled down into their usual ways. Paul was more active than ever: his eye was everywhere, feeling that he was obeying his master’s behests in watching over the interests of the captain and his daughter.
The same coach which a few months before had brought Harry Tryon southward, had now among its passengers no less a person than Mr Silas Sleech. He was in deep mourning—a proper respect to the memory of his late uncle, Colonel Everard. Yet his countenance bore no signs of grief. On the contrary, some pleasant thoughts seemed to occupy his mind, as he frequently rubbed his hands together and smiled complacently.
He was received with cordiality by his respected parent, the elder Mr Sleech, though the rest of the family, consisting of several brothers and four fair sisters, welcomed him apparently with less affection. Silas had brought but little luggage, but he held a tin case of considerable size which he had never allowed to quit his hand. The family greetings over, he and his father retired to the inner office. With intense interest they examined the contents of the case.
“It’s all right, father, I tell you,” exclaimed Silas. “Stanmore is ours, as sure as fate. My mother was the elder sister next to the colonel, and the captain’s father never had any marriage lines to show. I tell you the captain has no more right to the name of Everard than old Pike the mace-bearer. If the captain has a certificate, where is it? Let him show it; but he has not; and that little jade Mabel, who looks so proudly down upon me especially, must now be brought down a peg or two herself. She will be humble enough before long, or I am mistaken.”
“Silas, you ought to be Lord Chancellor,” exclaimed his father; “you have managed this affair with wonderful acuteness and judgment. I always thought there was a screw loose about Tom Everard’s foreign marriage, his wife dying suddenly, and he coming home with a small baby and a strange nurse, who could not speak a word of English or tell anybody what had happened. However, now we have got the law on our side, the sooner we take possession of our rights the better. You and I will see to that to-morrow. We will behave handsomely to Madam Everard. Indeed, I rather suspect that she won’t be so badly off, and whatever she has will go to Mabel, so there’s no use falling out too much with them. However, if your mother’s husband and children ought to be at Stanmore, why to Stanmore we will go, so that is settled.”
“Don’t tell the rest of them, though, father,” said Silas. “They will be blabbing it out, and Madam Everard will be getting wind of it, and we shan’t have the pleasure of giving them the little surprise I long for; come, you must not baulk me in that, daddy. A Lord Chancellor knows what’s what, and if I don’t kick up a pretty shindy in Stanmore Park before long, my name’s not Silas Sleech.”
Madam Everard and niece were seated in the study after breakfast. It had been the colonel’s sitting-room, and they occupied it with fond affection, no one, however, making use of his arm-chair. It seemed as if his spirit was often there, come down from the realms of the blest, while they talked of him and their lost Lucy.
The servant entered, and Madam Everard heard with no small dissatisfaction the names of her little-esteemed brother-in-law and his eldest son. They entered the room not with quite so much confidence as might have been expected.