The Broad Highway | Page 3

Richard crossed his legs and inhaled a pinch of snuff.
"Twenty thousand pounds is a very handsome sum," remarked Mr. Grainger ponderously and as though more with the intention of saying something rather than remain silent just then.
"Indeed it is," said I, "and might help a man to the devil as comfortably as need be, but--"
"Though," pursued Mr. Grainger, "much below his expectations and sadly inadequate to his present needs, I fear."
"That is most unfortunate," said I, "but--"
"His debts," said Mr. Grainger, busy at his spectacles again, "his debts are very heavy, I believe."
"Then doubtless some arrangement can be made to--but continue your reading, I beg," said I.
Mr. Grainger repeated his short, dry cough and taking up the will, slowly and almost as though unwillingly, cleared his throat and began as follows:
"'Furthermore, to my nephew, Peter Vibart, cousin to the above, I will and bequeath my blessing and the sum of ten guineas in cash, wherewith to purchase a copy of Zeno or any other of the stoic philosophers he may prefer.'"
Again Mr. Grainger laid down the will, and again he regarded me over the rim of his spectacles.
"Good God!" cried Sir Richard, leaping to his feet, "the man must have been mad. Ten guineas--why, it's an insult--damme!--it's an insult--you'll never take it of course, Peter."
"On the contrary, sir," said I.
"But--ten guineas!" bellowed the baronet; "on my soul now, George was a cold-blooded fish, but I didn't think even he was capable of such a despicable trick--no--curse me if I did! Why, it would have been kinder to have left you nothing at all--but it was like George--bitter to the end--ten guineas!"
"Is ten guineas," said I, "and when one comes to think of it, much may be done with ten guineas."
Sir Richard grew purple in the face, but before he could speak, Mr. Grainger began to read again:
"'Moreover, the sum of five hundred thousand pounds, now vested in the funds, shall be paid to either Maurice or Peter Vibart aforesaid, if either shall, within one calendar year, become the husband of the Lady Sophia Sefton of Cambourne.'"
"Good God!" exclaimed Sir Richard.
"'Failing which,'" read Mr. Grainger, "'the said sum, namely, five hundred thousand pounds, shall be bestowed upon such charity or charities as the trustees shall select. Signed by me, this tenth day of April, eighteen hundred and--, GEORGE VIBRART. Duly witnessed by ADAM PENFLEET, MARTHA TRENT."'
Here Mr. Grainger's voice stopped, and I remember, in the silence that followed, the parchment crackled very loudly as he folded it precisely and laid it on the table before him. I remember also that Sir Richard was swearing vehemently under his breath as he paced to and fro between me and the window.
"And that is all?" I inquired at last.
"That," said Mr. Grainger, not looking at me now, "is all."
"The Lady Sophia," murmured Sir Richard as if to "himself, "the Lady Sophia!" And then, stopping suddenly before me in his walk, "Oh, Peter!" said he, clapping his hand down upon my shoulder, "oh, Peter, that settles it; you're done for, boy--a crueller will was never made."
"Marriage!" said I to myself. "Hum!"
"A damnable iniquity," exclaimed Sir Richard, striding up and down the room again.
"The Lady Sophia Sefton of Cambourne!" said I, rubbing my chin.
"Why, that's just it," roared the baronet; "she's a reigning toast--most famous beauty in the country, London's mad over her--she can pick and choose from all the finest gentlemen in England. Oh, it's 'good-by' to all your hopes of the inheritance, Peter, and that's the devil of it."
"Sir, I fail to see your argument," said I.
"What?" cried Sir Richard, facing round on me, "d'you think you'd have a chance with her then?"
"Why not?"
"Without friends, position, of money? Pish, boy! don't I tell you that every buck and dandy--every mincing macaroni in the three kingdoms would give his very legs to marry her--either for her beauty or her fortune?" spluttered the baronet. "And let me inform you further that she's devilish high and haughty with it all--they do say she even rebuffed the Prince Regent himself."
"But then, sir, I consider myself a better man than the Prince Regent," said I.
Sir Richard sank into the nearest chair and stared at me openmouthed.
"Sir," I continued, "you doubtless set me down as an egoist of egoists. I freely confess it; so are you, so is Mr. Grainger yonder, so are we all of us egoists in thinking ourselves as good as some few of our neighbors and better than a great many."
"Deuce take me!" said Sir Richard.
"Referring to the Lady Sophia, I have heard that she once galloped her horse up the steps of St. Paul's Cathedral--"
"And down again, Peter," added Sir Richard.
"Also she is said to be possessed of a temper," I continued, "and is above the average height, I believe, and I have a natural