THE FOURTH GENERATION.

New Zealand Mail, 18 January 1900, Page 12

THE FOURTH GENERATION.

BY Slit AY ALTER. BEZANT

Author c-f "Ail Sorts and Conditions of Men; •'Herr Paulus,” "The Mazier Craftsman,” "Armorel of lvouesse." “ The World Went Very Well Then,” "All in a Garden Fair.” “Children of Gibeon.” etc.

Copyright. CHAPTER XIV. WHILE HE AVAS SPEAKING THE HE WAS ANOTHER. \\ hen lie was gone Leonard threw himself into the nearest c-hair - and looked around him. He gazed with bewildered tace. not upon the study full of books, the papers which showed the man of learning, the repoits winch spoke oi tlieaianof affairs, the engravings on the wall wbic-li spoke of the man of culture. These are accidental: anyone nay show them. The artist sprung from the gutter, the self-made scholar, the man of letters, might possess and exhibit all these things. He saw strewn around him the wreck and ruin of the essentials. There are none so full of family pride as those who show it least. To Eeonard it had always been the greatest happiness that the rec-oids of his family went back to times beyond the memory of man. No mve knew when they first obtained their estate: in every century lie found his ancestors—not distinguished, indeed thev - bad never produced a man of the first rankbur playing a part, and that not an unworthy one. It was the record of an honourable line. There were no traitors or turncoats in it A the men were''without reproach, the women without a spot or a stain au.ong them all. I suppose that nobody, either at school or college, ever knew or suspected the profound pride which lay at the heart of this quiet and self-possessed scholar. It was the kind of pride which is free from arrogance. He was a gentleman; all his people had been gentlemen. By gentlemen he meant people of good birth and breeding, and of blameless life. The word, we veil know, now embraces the greater part of male man. That means nothing and matters nothing. The door is always open to those who choose to lead the gentle lit’*, ami are privileged to follow The work which belongs to the gentle life. He was a gentleman he and all his people; He had no feeling of' superiority, not the least: no more than a man mav entertain a feeling of superiority on account of his stature. Nor had lie the least feeling of contempt for those who have no. such advantages. A man who has a grandfather may affect to despise one who lias no grandfather, but not a man who lias a long hue terminating like Hie ancestry of a Saxon king in the dim shapes which' are probably Woden, Thor, and Frevyo. The grand essentials of family’pride are ancestry and honour. The former cannot very well be taken away, bnt without the Latter it is not worth much. One might as well take pride in belonging to a long line m winch gallant highwaymen, footpads, costers, hooligans, and Marvlebone boys have succeeded each other for generations the accompaniments and distinctions ot Tyburn Tree and the cart tail. Therefore. I say, Leonard sat among the ruins of the essentials, regardless of the accidentals. The man who had iust left hnu had stripped off all‘that was left of his former pride: he could feel no further support or solace in the contemplation of his own people. Think what he had learned and endured in less than a month. It was Inis upon lines precept upon precept. It was like unto the patriarch to whom while one messenger of evil was speaking there came also another, saying, ‘‘Thus and thus lias it been done. Where is now thy pride?” First, he learned that he had cousins Jiving m one of the least desirable quarters ot London; the man-cousin could not bv any possible stretch be considered as possessing any of the attributes of a gentleman; the girl occupied a station and foiewed a tailing which was respectable but belonging to .hose generally adopted by

the Poor Relation. He was provided with poor relations. Constance said he wanted them. And they came. He had learned that his grandfather almost at the outset of a promising career had committed suicide for no reason that could be discovered; that his father died young, also at the outset of a promising career, was a misfortune but not a blot. Two persons were left of that generation. He had welcomed one as the prodigal who had gone forth to the husks and returned bearing sheaves of golden grain. At least the man himself had advanced this statement. The other lie had regarded all his . b ,e with respect as one in successful practice in a most honourable profession. What were they now ? One was a bankrupt grocer or general storekeeper, the owner of a shanty in an Australian township which he wanted to turn into a company as a great business; one who mads no pretence at truth or honesty; the companion of tramps; devoid of honour or ?' e , u ,^ be res l>ect or care for honour. He had been driven out by his family as a spendtlintt. a profligate and forger- he now saw that the other man, the barrister. had an equal or a greater right to these engaging titles and descriptions. Healso saw that the barrister was at that moment carrying on a "swindle.” Good heavens. Christopher Campaign?, Barr'is-ter-at-Law. of Lincoln’s Inn, carrying on a swindle: >o there was nobodv' left but him.seit alone. He must unaided pick up the family honour out of the mire aud begis again. Certain words which you have alreadv lieard came back again. It seemed to him as it Constance was saying them all over again: A on are independent as to fortune; you are of a good house; von have no scandals m your family records; vou Have got no poor or degraded relations • . . y°u are outside humanity. . “Z 0 " li- 1 Some , faiuil - v scandals, some pool relations who would make vou feel ashamed, something that made vou like ' them aJI? Ple ’ V " " erable " Xo \ v } >e bad Suddenly the door was opened. His sw •nuit came in bearing a card—a dirty card i If bore the name of Mr Samuel Gallev- . Campaigned. - - Another: Leonard groaned ami spran« I-iT fee E scattering into thin air the " ±ecks and ruins of the Essentials. He ’ H,a UUe ' °. HS stnd - v -and became again to the man wlm stood before him a "suner- ; cilious beast. I quote Air Galley’s own words after the event. It was liis cousin • and his countenance betokened anxietv ‘ traulfle and the intention of "trying it T ’ i- . lr b s „, au expression that mav be ‘ tVected hr Cbange-a place too much neglected by the novelist—and in market ■ towns on market day. r ' et i It has been wisely perhaps frequently re- ■ marked- that trouble brings out a man* . tme character far more certainly than nro- ’ sperit - v ! ''bn-h may encourage him to es- ' s \ ln,e ''irtues not really his own. The lines , about the uses of adversity must lie refv.Y e< \ °i t le bystander rather than the pahent, bec-nuse the former is then enabled ro contemplate and observe the time man for the first time. Mr Gallev forhn one'niv -m,)° slnu S in Prosperity, was openly and iindisgaisedly vulgar in adveisitj. At. this juomeut, for instance he was struggling with adversity: it made him red in the face, it made him speak thick it made him perspire inconveniently and it made his attitudes ungraceful. * ' th7dno U rTifl’ P the Btairs ’ he knocked at the door with an expression of fixed resolution; one might have expected him to "Tlfera* 3 fhat°s th , e R ble and t 0 cr *v inere. Ihat s what I want and that’s wha I mean to have.” He did not quite rnV V 1 bl , lt , he ‘“tended to do it when h° called, and lie would have done, I have “° do " bt * but for the cold quiet air with ‘vb'eh Ins eousm received him. if you Eke—?'' 19 ’” be be S a «- “or cousin

“Mr-Campaigne, perhaps,” said Leonard, tlie supercilious.

“Well, Mr Campaigne, then. I’ve come to have a few words of explanation. Explanation, sir:" he repeated, until some fierceness.

“By all means. Pray take a chair.” He took a chair, and was then seized by the doubt of which we have spoken. Perhaps the cause was the commanding position of his cousin, standing over him sis toot three in height, and with a face like that of a Judge not personally interested in the case before him. "The point is this. I’ve got a bill against your family. And I want to know whether lam to present it to you-or to my great-grandfather?” ' "q _ “A bill? Of what nature?” “A bill for maintenance. We have maintained my grandmother for fifty years. She has been kept, partly by.my grandfather, partly by my father, and partly by myself, and it’s time that your family should do their duty.” "That is a very remarkable claim.” “Putting it at ,£SO a year, which is cheap for the lavish way she’s been kept, that makes ,£2,500. At cqmpound interest it mounts up to ,£I,OOO and odd. T shall be contented to square the daily for ,£4,009.”

■‘You propose to send in. a bill—a bill —for keeping your own grandmother ?” , : "This is not an 'ordinary" case. "Aly grandmother belongs to a wealthy l'afiiily. When, my grandfather married her, it’was in the reasonable expectation that she would bring him a large fortune. She brought him nothing. Her father would not so much as answer her letters. It was a life-long grief and disappointment to my grandfather, not to speak of the expense. ' . . *

"An account rendered for the maintenance of a wife, a mother, and a grandmother? Really, Mr Galley! But it is no concern of mine; You can send it to your great-grandfathers solicitor at Aylesbury!'lf that is all-you have to say ” He took a step as if to'the door..

"No— no. I mean this. We had a right to expect a fortune, iami there has been none. ’ . * \

“I know nothing about right. Again, Air Galley, I cannot: discuss this matter with you. Take your'claim to the;. right quarter. ' ,

"I’m not obliged to keep' the old woman.” •, ' f-, "Again I decline to discuss your views of duty."

"I want to wake hiui up to a sense of justice. I will, too; even if I have tb expose him.” ;

Leonard stepped to the door and threw it open. Mr Galley rose. His face betrayed many emotions. In fact the conversation had not proceeded quite on the lines he expected. “Don’t be in a hurry,” he said. “Give me timei”

Leonard closed the door and retuned to . the hearthrug. “Take time, Air Galley“l don’t want,.” he said. "to. .behave ungentlemnnly, but I’m in desperate trouble. I want money.” -•- Leonard made no reply. Thi3 was dis*

couragiiig. * “I’ve been speculating—in house property—backing a builder; and tbe man is going. That is what has happened to ineIf I can't raise a thousand pounds course of a day or two I must go too/ "You will not raise anything by sending in a bill for the maintenance of J" grandmother. Put that out of your head* Mr Gallev.” : si

He groaned. "Will you lend me a thousand pounds, Mr Campaigne? You ‘ver© very friendly when yon came to see us the other day. The security is first-class —the shells of three unfinished’ houses —and 1 ; will give you eight per cent, for the aC| eommodation. - Good security nnd good : interest. Come, Air Campaigne, you are not a business man, and I don’t think >ou

oan make as a thaa three per ' cent, at the outside." ' "l have no money to lend or to adhave been to the bank, but they won't look at the business. It’s a mean, creeping miserable bank. I shall change it." •'Well, Mr*.Galley, I am sorry to hear that you are in trouble, but I cannot help y °"lf Ido go bankrupt," he said, savagely, "the old woman will go into the workhouse... That’s a. consolation." "You forget your sister, Mr Galley. From what I know of Board Schools, 1 should say that she is quite able' to maintain her grandmother.’ '"There's another thing, .then," be persisted, "When I spoke to you first, I mentioned the word accumulations." ."No one mentions any other word just now, I think," he replied, with a touch of temper. "They must be enormous. I’ve been working it out. Enormous. And he can't live much longer." "Mr Galley, I put it to you as a lawyer, or,’.at least, a 3 a solicitor. Do you think that your great-grandfather has lived all these years without making a will r” "He can’t. * He.is a madman." "Ask his solicitor for bin opinion on that subject. The old man will not speak, but he receives communications and gives instructions" "E shall dispute the will. Hp’s a madman." "As you. please. Meanwhile, it is doubtful whether the testator ever heard your name." "Ho l-nows his daughter’s name. And what's hers is mine." "I must open the door again, Mr Galley, if you talk nonsense. I hear, by the way, that you have made that lady sign certain papers. As a solicitor you must know that such documents would be regarded by the Court with extreme suspicion." "If I have to go bankrupt I shall let the whole world know that you wouldn't lift a finger to save your own cousin ” "As you please." ~ "And if ■ there’s a will that turns out mo, I'll drag the whole thing into Court and expose you, I will expose you by ■” Leonard opened the door again. "This time, Mr Galley, you will go." He obeyed. He dropped his hat on his head, he marched out, and he bawled on the stairs aa -he went down, "I’ll expose you—l'll expose you—l’ll expose you!” These terrifying and minatory words rang up and down the stairs of that respectable mansion like the voice of an Accusing Angel, so that everybody who heard them jumped and turned pale and murmured, "Oh, Good Lord! What’s come out now? (To be continued.)