READY – MONEY MORTIBOY.

Grey River Argus, Volume XIII, Issue 1666, 6 December 1873, Page 4

READY - MONEY MORTIBOY.

A MATTER-OF-FACT STORY. Chapter L.— Continued. "Do you mean to tell me, John Heathcote, that I am not the possessor of everything V " Certainly not. All the personality is mine absolutely. All the realty is mine so long, as you live. When you die, you may bequeath it to whom you will." .; r "Is that the law ? .. Do you; , dare to , assert that the law of England allows that? And they call this a Christian and a Protestaufc country !" " Let v<s' understand one another, Lydia. We are plain people, aud in- J tend to remain so. You and I are old, and unfit for society to which we- were not brought vp — " l - John — I unfit ! Pray, do you forget that I was seven ypars at the best and most select boarding-school in Market Basing?" "I daresay they finished yon very well for a farmer's wife, such as you've been for five and twenty years. No, no — we are too old and too wise to change, Lyddy. No town life for us. I mean to go on exactly the same/ " You imagine, John, that I am going to consent to live Jike that, with all the money coming in? Do you call yourself a Churchman, John ? Do you know that it is your duty — your positive duty— to keep up your station 1 I, for one, shall not consent. So there." "You need not. Lyddy," said her nu3band, quietly. "If you refuse you must live elsewhere. And I don't know where you'll find the money Don't be downoast, wife. A little extra finery you can have, if you like, and spend anything in reason consistent with your position. I'm a farmer. The girls can spend the money when they marry. Another thing. Whatever Dick intended to do it is our duty to do. Now, read that." He put into his wife's hands Dick's last few word". "Poor Dick! His last wishes. We must obey them." " Papa," said Grace, eagerly, " you are really going to do all that Dick intended should be done?" ""AlirGrace. Everything"." "Then consult George Ghrimes about* another: thing, papa. Ask him what DicV was going to do about him, and— ask papa—" "If there's secrets going on, I suppose I had better go," said her mother. " John Heathcote, when I married yen, little did I think' that I was marrying a man capable of sheltering himself behind the law, in order that ; he. might continue, in his low and grovelling position. ; ; ■■ ; '-. •'-. ■-;■)■■!'■). ■ ••-•; ■'■■'■■■ ■■■ John Heathcote laughed^' lt' never was his plan to argue with his wife ! , else the argument would! have been perennial. - ; <■ The next day, being three days after the funeral, Mrs Heathcote thought ske might as weir make a visit to Derogate and the villa, ( and take possession of the things! there," whatever there might be to have.

The garden door was open, and the front door was open. '..-, jSha walked into the dining-room — no one there— and into Dick's smokingroom.'' *■ ;.' : ; ; ; ■ ; ' '■' ." : .; ' . In his easy chair, in deepest widow's weeds; with a handkerchief: to her eyes, sa'fcPolly. •"■■'/ • ; ■■■■■■■■■■■■ -.-v. It was her greatest " coup," though it failed." She learned the death of Dick from the papers, and instantly made up her.' mind what to do. Without' going through the formality of accqiiainting Captain 1 Bowker with her intentions, she-bought a widow's cap and crape, got into the train, and came to Market Basing. She could get her confession back first, 5 anil then, after laying hands on everything portable, would com« to such terms as could, in a short space of time, and before the thing was found out, be obtained. . " Mary !" cried Mrs Heathcote, " what is the meaning of this?" " Mrs Eichard Mortiboy, Mrs Heathcote— I should say, Cousin Heathcote," said Polly, wiping her eyes again. " Oh, wnat & dreadful thing it is to lose your husband, and him but just returned from foreign parts and savages !" "Mary ! woman— you are mad !" ;,, ShejSho.pk her head and sobbed the faster. .: (i .f^Poor ; Dick! I shall never see ; his like again. .■; Mrs Heathcote won't you sit down.? Itfa my house, and all Dick's money; is mine; but we sha'n't fall out. Families' ought to live., peaceful. Sit down, young ladies." „ . : . . ,;. ; : ...Grace.knew thai ;she was , speaking the truth, but silence was best. '•'■ They remained i standing.. Ii Polly still gave fixjm*time n to i titne a -convulsive heave, which she meaniJ^to 'express the poigfiancy of her soiTqw. , j ,- ~ ! ft Perhaps you will explain yourself, Maiy. Treslerf'Vsaid her late 1 mistress. " Ho ! there's no objection of explaining. None in the world,' Mrs Heathcote. Cousin Heathcote, I'vej^been married to Dick Mortiboy for twelve yeairs fi&ld'rriore,- married in London, at St. .Pankridge's .Church, where you may go yourself and* look. And now I'm come to claim my rights, as in duty j 3b.OundL and; an ; honest woman .should. '- IJqn'tthink I'm bearingiany malice for ; .bjd^imea, Mrs Heathcote ;. though you always were a screw, and you know it.^ It isn't the place now, . nor t the time, ' wlie'n I'm J weeping over the.last bier of my poor dear lost'Diclc, to ttrbw your cold mutton, and your. I rokeh victuals : in your teeth} no, nor your eight; poundßa-y ear, paid your cousin's lawful wife;' nor your flannels at Christmas, ; No. Let's be ; friends all round, I say,

I only come up tins morning, aud here I'm going to stick. Perhaps, as you are here, you'll tell me. where Dick's safe is where he keeps his papers, because that's mine, that is, and there's soTnetlH\Vg;particular of my own that I want back again." . It was akward for Polly, in the ex- . ecution of her grand " coup," that she had no conception where the safe was, in which she knew that her written confession lay— nor, indeed, what a safe "was like when she saw one.' She had a notion that it was a wooden box, i kept probably in his bed-room, the breaking open of which would put her in possession of the dangerous document. But she could find no wooden box, though she had searched the whole house through ; and she naturally began to feel uneasy. Where had Dick put it? Mrs Heathcote was speechless. This, indeed, was a calamity far worse than the obstinancy of her husband. That the perfidious Dick should actually have I had a wife, her own servant, and have said nothing to anybody, was a thing so utterly beyond the scope of her experience, that her brain seemed to be wandering. Her lips parted, but she said nothing. "Oh, it's a dreadful thing," Polly | went on, "tobe a widow. And me so ' young — and such a good husband ! I hope you may never experience it, Mrs Heathcote — never, Cousiu Heathcote. It's a dreadful thing, and money won't make up for it. What's money to the loss of my Dick ?" " Grace," said Mrs Heathcote, "am lin my right senses ? Is this woman mad?" ■•.-;■■ . \. " Woman !" cried the bereaved one, starting up in a violent rage. "No more woman than you are. How dare you call me a woman 1 For two pins, Mrs Heathcote, I'd scratch out your eyes. You aud your cold mutton, indeed ; and no followers allowed. But I'll comb you down yet, you see if I don't." ; " ; ■ .. The door opened, and Mr Ghrimes [. appeared. In his hand a bundle of papers. "Oh !" he said, coolly, seeing Polly, "Joe, the stable-boy, told me you were here. Now, what may you be wanting in this house ? No nonsense, you know, because it won't do with me." ; "Mr Ghrimes— -my clerk," said Polly, " my, servant, and the manager of my bank— don't be insolent, young man, or I'll give you warning, and send you about your business sharp enough ; so down on your knets, if you please. Other people can manage a bank as well, as you." All the same, her heart misgave her ! at the sight r of the calm, cold man of business^wlld evidently knew exactly what he was saying, and was not,a whit moved at her. brave words. . . , ■■' , '•We will! talk abput; /discharging afterwards. At present, you had better go -yourself. Yes, I mean that you m nst go, and that at once. Any insults to these ladies will be severely punished. Now go, or I will speak more plainly." "I sha'n't go." Polly sat herself down in the armchair,^ and spread out her skirts in a very determined manner. "•',.. "You won't? Very well." Mr Ghrimes stepped outside. Voices were heard, and steps in the passage, and Polly's cheek visibly blanched, Ghrimes .', came back.^ Behind him were Mr Battisconibe, farmer John, and a third person, a stranger to the rest, at sight of whom Polly sprang up and sat down again, as if she had received a mortal blow. It was a middle-aged man, with ared beard, and blue eyes, and a nervous, hesitating manner, who came with the others, half unwillingly : no other, in fact, than Captain Bowker.

" Now, madam," said Mr Ghrimes, " who is this gentleman ?" »« Oh I" said Polly, " I'll take it out of you for this. Only you wait." " Let me explain," said the lawyer "We suspected your little game, you see, and we took our steps — had you watched, followed you to the statiou, found where you were going to, and brought Captain Bowker, your husband," down after you by the next train." " Her husband !" cried Mrs Heathcote. ' '"" You wicked, wicked woman ! Mr Bafctiscombe, .; what is the extreme penalty which the law exacts for this offencel '-■-' Is it'twerity years, or is it fifty ? I forget at this moment. I know they used to" hang for it hi the good' old d^ ; » :,...,:.], -:.: !; :-.,-. . •.: "What's more," said the Captain in a]liiisky; voice, ""they've told me your whole history, and I find I can be free whenever I like. So, Polly, you may go your own way^ : By the Lordjif you come nearme^ again, 1 ' I will,' be ' free, and you shall be, in, a, prison. .I'm, going back'to Skimps... You sha'n't say I hid myself. There I stay—^find me out there if you' dare." • '• You calf of a sea captain, do you think I want to come, after you ! I despise you too much," said Polly, grandly. " And her mother in the workhouse !" ejaculated Mrs Heathcote, as if the fact had an important bearing m the case. "Had you not better go now?" asked Ghrimes.;', "It will be well for you to go by the next train — it leaves in twenty minutes. I will drive you to the station." ;. Polly removed the white cap of 'widowhood, and laid it on thie table. " Yon may have ..it, Mrs Heathcote, mum— keep it for my sake ; and be very careful about yiour cold pork. Go on locking up the key of the beer cejlap, and don't Jet maids, have no followers ; then jou } ll go on being ap much beloved as ybu always haye been much bg-

loved — if you go on, that is, as you have been a-going on. Good-bj'e, youngladies. Miss Grace I'd do you a good turn if I could, because } r ou deserve it, and you know why: you was always the best of the bunch. Good-bye, Miss Lucy; eat and drink a bit more, and don't read too many tracts, and you'll be as pretty as you sister someday, but never so good. She knows how to hold her tongue, she does. One thing," ' she. concluded, looking at her husband with a gaze of concentrated hatred J which caused his knees to shake beneath him — " one good thing — one gracious good thing : I'm rid of a poorspirited barrel of salt sea pork: I sha'n't see you no more. Ugh ! and your verses ! If I get home first, I'll bukn 'euall." " You can't, Polly," said her husband, meekly ; " I got 'era in ray coat tail pocket, every one, with a new ' Ode to Recognition,' which I composed when you were asleep." She passed out, holding her head high. Grhrirnes followed her, and drove her to the station.