As if in revenge, the prudent merchant would not be induced to entrust him with the document, saying he could not give it up till he had heard from the executors, and had been certified of the death of the testator. He withstood both the angry gentlemen, who finally departed in a state of great resentment--Harry declaring that the old land-lubber would not believe that he was his own father's son; and Mr. Rivers, no less incensed, that the House of Commons had been insulted in his person, because he did not carry all before him.
Flora laughed at their story, and told them that she suspected that the old gentleman was in the right; and she laid plans for having Harry to teach them yachting at Ryde, while Harry declared he would have nothing to do with such trumpery.
Harry found his home in a sort of agony of expectation, for his non- arrival at the time expected had made his first appearance seem like an unsubstantial illusion, though Dr. May, or Mary and Aubrey, had been at the station at the coming in of each train. Margaret had recovered the effects of the first shock, and the welcome was far more joyous than the first had been, with the mixed sensations that were now composed, and showed little, outwardly, but gladness.
Dr. May took Flora's view of the case, and declared that, if Harry had brought home the will, he should not have opened it without his co-executor. So he wrote to the captain, while Harry made the most of his time in learning his sisters over again. He spent a short time alone with Margaret every morning, patiently and gently allowing himself to be recalled to the sad recollections that were all the world to her. He kept Ethel and Mary merry with his droll desultory comments; he made Blanche keep up her dancing; and taught Gertrude to be a thorough little romp. As to Dr. May, his patients never were so well or so cheerful, till Dr. Spencer and Ethel suspected that the very sight of his looks brightened them--how could they help it? Dr. Spencer was as happy as a king in seeing his friend freed from the heavy weight on his spirits; and, truly, it was goodly to watch his perfect look of content, as he leaned on his lion-faced boy's arm, and walked down to the minster, whither it seemed to have become possible to go on most evenings. Good Dr. May was no musician, but Mr. Wilmot could not regret certain tones that now and then burst out in the chanting, from the very bottom of a heart that assuredly sang with the full melody of thankfulness, whatever the voice might do.
Captain Gordon not only wrote but came to Stoneborough, whence Harry was to go with him to the court-martial at Portsmouth.
The girls wondered that, after writing with so much warmth and affection, both of and to Harry, he met him without any demonstration of feeling; and his short peremptory manner removed all surprise that poor Hector had been so forlorn with him at Maplewood, and turned, with all his heart, to Dr. May. They were especially impressed at the immediate subsidence of all Harry's noise and nonsense, as if the drawing-room had been the quarter-deck of the Alcestis.
"And yet," said Margaret, "Harry will not hear a single word in dispraise of him. I do believe he loves him with all his heart."
"I think," said Ethel, "that in a strong character, there is an exulting fear in looking up to a superior, in whose justice there is perfect reliance. It is a germ of the higher feeling."
"I believe you are right," said Margaret; "but it is a serious thing for a man to have so little sympathy with those below him. You see how Hector feels it, and I now understand how it told upon Alan, and how papa's warmth was like a surprise to him."
"Because Captain Gordon had to be a father to them, and that is more than a captain. I should not wonder if there were more similarity and fellow-feeling between him and Harry than there could be with either of them. Harry, though he has all papa's tenderness, is of a rougher sort that likes to feel itself mastered. Poor Hector! I wonder if he is to be given back to us."
"Do you know--when--whether they will find out this morning?" said Margaret, catching her dress nervously, as she was moving away.
"Yes, I believe so. I was not to have told you, but--"
"There is no reason that it should do me any harm," said Margaret, almost smiling, and looking as if she was putting a restraint on something she wished to say. "Go down, dear Ethel--Aubrey will be waiting for you."
Ethel went down to the difficult task of hearing Aubrey's lessons, while Harry was pretending to write to Mrs. Arnott, but, in reality, teaching Gertrude the parts of a ship, occasionally acting mast, for her to climb.
By and by Dr. May came in. "Margaret not downstairs yet?" he said.
"She is dressed, but will not come down till the evening," said Ethel.
"I'll go to her. She will be pleased. Come up presently, Ethel. Or, where's Richard?"
"Gone out," said Harry. "What, is it anything left to her?"
"The best, the best!" said Dr. May. "Ethel, listen--twenty thousand, to build and endow a church for Cocksmoor!"
No need to bid Ethel listen. She gave a sort of leap in her chair, then looked almost ready to faint.
"My dear child," said her father, "This is your wish. I give you joy, indeed I do!"
Ethel drew his arm round her, and leaned against him. "My wish! my wish!" she repeated, as if questioning the drift of the words.
"I'm glad it is found!" cried Harry. "Now I know why he talked of Cocksmoor, and seemed to rest in planning for it. You will mind the roof is as he said."
"You must talk to Dr. Spencer about that," said Dr. May. "The captain means to leave it entirely in our hands."
"Dear Alan!" exclaimed Ethel. "My wish! Oh, yes, but how gained? Yet, Cocksmoor with a church! I don't know how to be glad enough, and yet--"
"You shall read the sentence," said Dr. May. "'In testimony of thankfulness for mercy vouchsafed to him here--' poor dear boy!"
"What does the captain say?" asked Harry.
"He is rather astounded, but he owns that the estate can bear it, for old Halliday had saved a great deal, and there will be more before Hector comes of age."
"And Hector?"
"Yes, we get him back. I am fellow-trustee with Captain Gordon, and as to personal guardianship, I fancy the captain found he could not make the boy happy, and thinks you no bad specimen of our training."
"Famous!" cried Harry. "Hector will hurrah now! Is that all?"
"Except legacies to Captain Gordon, and some Scottish relations. But poor Margaret ought to hear it. Ethel, don't be long in coming."
With all Ethel's reputation for bluntness, it was remarkable how her force of character made her always called for whenever there was the least dread of a scene.
She turned abruptly from Harry; and, going outside the window, tried to realise and comprehend the tidings, but all she could have time to discover was that Alan's memory was dearer to her than ever, and she was obliged to hasten upstairs.
Her father quitted the room by one door, as she entered by the other; she believed that it was to hide his emotion, but Margaret's fair wan face was beaming with the sweetest of congratulating smiles.
"I thought so," she said, as Ethel came in. "Dear Ethel, are you not glad?"
"I think I am," said Ethel, putting her hands to her brow.
"You think!" exclaimed Margaret, as if disappointed.
"I beg your pardon," said Ethel, with quivering lip. "Dear Margaret, I am glad--don't you believe I am, but somehow, it is harder to deal with joy than grief. It confuses one! Dear Alan--and then to have been set on it so long--to have prayed so for it, and to have it come in this way--by your--"
"Nay, Ethel, had he come home, it was his great wish to have done it. He used to make projects when he was here, but he would not let me tell you, lest he should find duties at Maplewood--whereas this would have been his pleasure."