Demos | Page 7

flax-growing. The results, unfortunately, were anything
but satisfactory. It was that which led to his son entering
business--quite a new thing in their family. Wasn't it very sad? Poor
Godfrey and his young wife both drowned! The marriage was, as you
may imagine, not altogether a welcome one to Mrs. Eldon; Mr.
Mutimer was quite a self-made man, quite. I understand he has
relations in London of the very poorest class--labouring people.'
'They probably benefit by his will?'
'I can't say. In any case, to a very small extent. It has for a long time
been understood that Hubert Eldon inherits.'
'Singular!' murmured the clergyman, still in the same absent way.
'Is it not? He took so to the young fellows; no doubt he was flattered to
be allied to them. And then he was passionately devoted to his daughter;

if only for her sake, he would have done his utmost for the family.'
'I understand that Mr. Mutimer purchased the Manor from them?'
'That was before the marriage. Godfrey Eldon sold it; he had his
father's taste for speculation, I fancy, and wanted capital. Then Mr.
Mutimer begged them to remain in the house. He certainly was a
wonderfully kind old--old gentleman; his behaviour to Mrs. Eldon was
always the perfection of courtesy. A stranger would find it difficult to
understand how she could get on so well with him, but their sorrows
brought them together, and Mr. Mutimer's generosity was really noble.
If I had not known his origin, I should certainly have taken him for a
county gentleman.'
'Yet he proposed to mine in the valley,' observed Mr. Wyvern, half to
himself, casting a glance at the window.
Mrs. Waltham did not at first see the connection between this and what
she had been saying. Then it occurred to her that Mr. Wyvern was
aristocratic in his views.
'To be sure,' she said, 'one expects to find a little of the original--of the
money-making spirit. Of course such a thing would never have
suggested itself to the Eldons. And in fact very little of the lands
remained to them. Mr. Mutimer bought a great deal from other people.'
As Mr. Wyvern sat brooding, Mrs. Waltham asked--
'You have seen Mrs. Eldon?'
' Not yet. She is too unwell to receive visits.'
'Yes, poor thing, she is a great invalid. I thought, perhaps, you--. But I
know she likes to be very quiet. What a strange thing about Mr. Eldon,
is it not? You know that he has never come yet; not even to the funeral.'
'Singular!'
'An inexplicable thing! There has never been a shadow of disagreement
between them.'
'Mr. Eldon is abroad, I believe?' said the clergyman musingly.
'Abroad? Oh dear, no! At least, I--. Is there news of his being abroad?'
Mr. Wyvern merely shook his head.
'As far as we know,' Mrs. Waltham continued, rather disturbed by the
suggestion, 'he is at Oxford.'
'A student?'
'Yes. He is quite a youth--only two-and-twenty.'
There was a knock at the door, and a maid-servant entered to ask if she

should lay the table for tea. Mrs. Waltham assented; then, to her
visitor--
'You will do us the pleasure of drinking a cup of tea, Mr. Wyvern? we
make a meal of it, in the country way. My boy and girl are sure to be in
directly.'
'I should like to make their acquaintance,' was the grave response.
'Alfred, my son,' the lady proceeded, 'is with us for his Easter holiday.
Belwick is so short a distance away, and yet too far to allow of his
living here, unfortunately.'
'His age?'
'Just one-and-twenty.'
'The same age as my own boy.'
'Oh, you have a son?'
'A youngster, studying music in Germany. I have just been spending a
fortnight with him.'
'How delightful! If only poor Alfred could have pursued some
more--more liberal occupation! Unhappily, we had small choice.
Friends were good enough to offer him exceptional advantages not long
after his father's death, and I was only too glad to accept the opening. I
believe he is a clever boy; only such a dreadful Radical.' She laughed,
with a deprecatory motion of the hands. 'Poor Adela and he are at
daggers drawn; no doubt it is some terrible argument that detains them
now on the road. I can't think how he got his views; certainly his father
never inculcated them.'
'The air, Mrs. Waltham, the air,' murmured the clergyman.
The lady was not quite sure that she understood the remark, but the
necessity of reply was obviated by the entrance of the young man in
question. Alfred was somewhat undergrown, but of solid build. He
walked in a sturdy and rather aggressive way, and his plump face
seemed to indicate an intelligence, bright, indeed, but of the less refined