That Stick | Page 6

'Your uncle has always treated us handsomely, and we have every reason to expect that he will continue to do so.'
'He ought to have us to live with him in his house in London, and take us to Court,' said Ida. 'Oh, Mr. Rollstone, is he not bound to do that?'
And Constance breathed, 'How delicious!'
Mr. Rollstone perhaps had his doubts of the figures Mrs. and Miss Morton would cut in society, but he contented himself with saying, 'It may be well to moderate your expectations, Miss Ida, and to remember that Lord Northmoor is not compulsorily bound to consult any interests but his own.'
'If he does not, it is perfectly abominable,' cried Mrs. Morton, 'towards his poor, only brother's children, with Herbert his next heir-apparent.'
'Heir-presumptuous,' solemnly corrected Mr. Rollstone, at which Ida looked at Constance, but Constance respected Rosie's feelings, and would not return her sister's glance, only blushed, and sniggered.
'Heir-apparent is only the eldest son, who cannot be displaced by any contingency.'
'And there's a horrid, little, artful school teacher, who drew him in years ago--before I was married even,' said Mrs. Morton. 'No doubt she will try to keep him now. Most likely she always knew what was going to happen. Cannot he be set free from the entanglement?'
'Oh!' gasped Constance.
'That is serious,' observed Mr. Rollstone gravely. 'It would be an unfortunate commencement to have an action for breach of promise of marriage.'
'She would never dare,' said Mrs. Morton. 'She is as poor as a rat, and could not do it!'
'Well, Mrs. Morton,' said Mr. Rollstone, 'if I may be allowed to tender my poor advice, it would be that you should be very cautious and careful not to give any offence to his lordship, or to utter what might be reported to him in a sinister manner.'
'Oh, I know every one has enemies!' said Mrs. Morton, tossing her head.
After this disappointment there was rather less interest displayed when Mr. Rollstone proceeded to track out and explain the whole Northmoor pedigree, from the great lawyer, Sir Michael Morton, who had gained the peerage, down to the failure of the direct line, tracing the son from whom Francis and Charles Morton were descended. Certainly Miss Marshall must have been wonderfully foresighted if she had engaged herself with a view to the succession, for at the time it began, the last Lord Northmoor had two sons and a brother living! There was also a daughter, the Honourable Bertha Augusta.
'Is she married?' demanded Mrs. Morton.
'It is not marked here, and if it had been mentioned in the papers, I should not have failed to record it.'
'And how old is she?'
'The author of this peerage would never be guilty of the solecism of recording a lady's age,' said Mr. Rollstone gravely; 'but as the Honourable Arthur was born in 1848, and the Honourable Michael in 1850, we may infer that the young lady is no longer in her first youth.'
'And not married? Nearly Fr--Lord Northmoor's age. She must be an old cat who will set her mind on marrying him,' sighed Mrs. Morton, 'and will make him cut all his own relations.'
'Then Mary Marshall might be the better lookout,' said Ida.
'She could never be unkind,' breathed little Constance.
'There is no knowing,' said Mr. Rollstone oracularly; 'but the result of my observations has been that the true high-bred aristocracy are usually far more affable and condescending than those elevated from a lower rank.'
'Oh, I do hope for Miss Marshall,' said Constance in a whisper to Rose.
'Nasty old thing--a horrid old governess,' returned Ida; and they tittered, scarcely pausing to hear Mr. Rollstone's announcement of the discovery that he had entered the marriage in 1879 of the Honourable Arthur Michael to Lady Adela Emily, only daughter of the Earl of Arlington, and the death of the said Honourable Arthur by a carriage accident four years later.
Then Herbert tumbled in, bringing a scent of tea and tar, and was greeted with an imploring injunction to brush his hair and wash his hands--both which operations he declared that he had performed, spreading out his brown hands, which might be called clean, except for ingrained streaks of tar. Mr. Rollstone tried to console his mother by declaring that it was aristocratic to know how to handle the ropes; and Herbert, sitting among the girls, began, while devouring sausages, to express his intention of having a yacht, in which Rose should be taken on a voyage. No, not Ida; she would only make a fool of herself on board; and besides, she had such horrid sticking-out ears, with a pull at them, which made her scream, and her mother rebuke him; while Mr. Rollstone observed that the young gentleman had much to learn if he was to conform to aristocratic manners, and Herbert under his breath hung aristocratic manners,