“That was not in my head. Of course I would not ask you to give your fortune away! I don’t even ask you to tie up the whole. But when it comes to the settlements, could we not create a new Trust, Serena?”
She was puzzled. “I see no sense in that. What sort of a Trust had you in mind?”
“Not—not an unusual one!” he stammered, thrown off his balance by her entire lack of comprehension. He saw that Fanny was looking at him in innocent inquiry, and said hastily: “This is not the place—or the occasion! I believe that when I have talked the matter over with Lord Rotherham he will agree as to the propriety of what I have to suggest.”
“But it has nothing whatsoever to do with Rotherham!” Serena said indignantly. “What are you suggesting?”
“Don’t be so bird-witted, Serena!” said Rotherham impatiently. “What I understand Major Kirkby to mean, is that your fortune should be tied up in your children.”
“In my children!” she exclaimed. “Is that what you indeed meant, Hector? Good gracious, why could you not say so?”
“Because this is neither the place nor the occasion,” said Rotherham. “He told you so.”
“Well, if it is not, you did not seem to think so!”
“No, but that was because I lack delicacy.”
She laughed. “Or would waste none upon me? You know, Hector, I think I would rather not tie up all my fortune in my children.”
“Not all! I’m not so unreasonable as that! But if you kept for yourself a tenth—Serena, could you not be content with that, with what you have now, and what I can give you?” the Major said pleadingly.
She said without hesitation: “With that, or far less, if I was obliged to, my love! But—but I am not obliged to, and I do think that it would be quite ridiculous of us to choose to live on a smaller income than we need! Suppose I did get into debt, or that we had a sudden need for a large sum of money? My dear, it would drive us both into a frenzy to think we had been so foolish as to put it out of our power to draw upon my fortune!”
Rotherham gave a crack of laughter. “Admirable common sense, Serena! I trust for both your sakes you will succeed in bringing Major Kirkby round to your way of thinking. You have, after all, several months in which to argue the matter.”
“Oh, yes, let us not talk of it any more tonight!” Fanny begged, getting up from her chair. “It is so very difficult for you both!”
The Major moved to the door, and opened it. Fanny paused beside him, looking up into his face, and saying with a wistful smile: “You will find an answer to the problem—I am quite certain that you will!”
His grave face relaxed; he returned the smile, but with an effort. She and Serena went out of the room, and he shut the door behind them, and turned to confront Rotherham.
14
Rotherham sat down again, and refilled both his own and the Major’s glass. The Major returned to his chair, but stood behind it, his hands gripping its back. He said jerkily: “She must be persuaded to do that!”
“I don’t know what your powers of persuasion are,” replied Rotherham, “but I should doubt whether you will succeed.”
“If she knew that you were in agreement with me—”
“Nothing would more surely set up her back. Moreover, I am not in agreement with you. I fail to see why Serena should be deprived of what she has every right to enjoy.” He picked up his wineglass, and lounged back in his chair, one leg stretched out before him, and his hand thrust into the pocket of his breeches. He surveyed the Major somewhat satirically. “Serena, my dear sir, is the daughter of an extremely wealthy man, and has lived her whole life, until Spenborough’s death, in the first style of affluence. I know of no reason why she should be obliged to spend the rest of it in reduced circumstances. I should doubt very much her ability to do so. However, it is no concern of mine. By all means persuade her, if you think you can do it, and believe yourself able to support her when you have done it!”
There was a long silence. The Major sat down rather heavily, and for some time remained staring blindly at his wineglass, which he kept on twisting round and round, a finger and thumb gripping its stem. At last he drew a long breath, and looked up with an air of resolution. “Lord Rotherham, when I asked Serena to marry me, it was in the belief that although her fortune might be larger than my own, it was not so immense as to render my proposal an effrontery! I am astonished that you should behave with such—I must call it forbearance! I am well aware in what a light I must appear to anyone not familiar with the circumstances! In justice to myself, I wish to tell you that I have loved her—the memory of her—ever since I first saw her! She, too, formed an attachment. She would have married me then, but my suit was considered to be ineligible—which, indeed, it was! I was a mere lad, a younger son! We were parted. I never hoped to see her again, but forget her I could not! She was to me—an unattainable dream, a beautiful goddess beyond my reach!” He stopped, flushing, and said with some difficulty: “But I need not try to explain that to you, I fancy. I am aware—Serena has told me—”
“If Serena has told you that I ever thought her a goddess, she’s either an unconscionable liar, or she’s hoaxing you!” interrupted Rotherham tartly.
“She did not—I only thought—”
“Then think it no longer! I collect that when you succeeded to the property you now possess, you decided she was no longer above your touch?”
The Major shook his head. “It never entered my head. I didn’t suppose even that she could remember me. But we met—here in Bath—neither of us dreaming of such a thing.” He raised his eyes fleetingly to that harsh face, and said, colouring as he spoke: “It was as though the years rolled back—for both of us!”
“I see.” Rotherham smiled slightly. “Your dream, in fact, had come true.”
“It sounds foolish, I daresay. I had not meant to tell you all this! But what has happened tonight—”
“Not at all. You are singularly fortunate, Major Kirkby. In my experience, the embodiment of such a dream is frequently a severe disappointment. So Serena is just what you had imagined her to be! You must have been far better acquainted with her than I had supposed possible!”
“How could I—how could I be disappointed in her?” demanded the Major, with unnecessary violence.
“Evidently you are not.”
“No! Unthinkable!”
“Then we need not think of it. I am obliged to you for honouring me with your confidence, but it was unnecessary. I had not imagined that you wished to marry Serena for the sake of her fortune: she’s not such a fool as to be taken in by a fortune-hunter! Nor is she answerable to me for her actions.”
“Was it not to guard her from just such a fortune-hunter as I must appear that her father appointed you to be her Trustee?”
Rotherham’s mouth twisted rather wryly. “No. It was not. No doubt he hoped, at the least, that I should prevent her marriage to some obviously undesirable person. Mere disparity of fortune would not, I fancy, constitute undesirability in the eyes of the Law. She would marry whom she chose, even though I swore she shouldn’t touch a penny more than the pin-money she now enjoys,” He gave a short laugh. “And fight me afterwards to the Courts of Appeal!” he added. He got up. There is really no more to say. Shall we go?”
“Yes. That is—I must think! Before I knew the size of this appalling fortune, I had qualms that I had no business to—Had it not been for Lady Spenborough, I believe I must have torn myself away!”
Rotherham had strolled towards the door, but he paused, and looked at the Major. “Did Lady Spenborough encourage you to declare yourself?”
“Yes. I was in miserable uncertainty! I felt she was the most proper person to be consulted!”
“Good God!”
“You are thinking of her youth! But I knew her to be devoted to Serena! Her kindness, her sympathy I can find no words to describe! To lose Serena must be such a blow to her, but I believe she never spares a thought for herself. I think I never knew one so young and so timid to have so much strength of character, so much understanding!”