Demos. George Gissing
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Название: Demos

Автор: George Gissing

Издательство: Public Domain

Жанр: Зарубежная классика

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СКАЧАТЬ never dream such a thing! what will come to pass! An unthought-of possibility!’ She went on crescendo. ‘My dear Mrs. Waltham, Mr. Mutimer has left no will!’

      It was as if an electric shock had passed from the tips of her fingers into her hearer’s frame. Mrs. Waltham paled.

      ‘That cannot be true!’ she whispered, incapable of utterance above breath.

      ‘Oh, but there’s not a doubt of it!’ Knowing that the news would be particularly unpalatable to Mrs. Waltham, she proceeded to dwell upon it with dancing eyes. ‘Search has been going on since the day of the death: not a corner that hasn’t been rummaged, not a drawer that hasn’t been turned out, not a book in the library that hasn’t been shaken, not a wall that hasn’t been examined for secret doors! Mr. Mutimer has died intestate!’

      The other lady was mute.

      ‘And shall I tell you how it came about? Two days before his death, he had his will from Mr. Yottle, saying he wanted to make change—probably to execute a new will altogether. My dear, he destroyed it, and death surprised him before he could make another.’

      ‘He wished to make changes?’

      ‘Ah!’ Mrs. Mewling drew out the exclamation, shaking her raised finger, pursing her lips. ‘And of that, too, I can tell you the reason. Mr. Mutimer was anything but pleased with young Eldon. That young man, let me tell you, has been conducting himself—oh, shockingly! Now you wouldn’t dream of repeating this?’

      ‘Certainly not.’

      ‘It seems that news came not so very long ago of a certain actress, singer,—something of the kind, you understand? Friends thought it their duty—rightly, of course,—to inform Mr. Mutimer. I can’t say exactly who did it; but we know that Hubert Eldon is not regarded affectionately by a good many people. My dear, he has been out of England for more than a month, living—oh, such extravagance! And the moral question, too? You know—those women! Someone, they say, of European reputation; of course no names are breathed. For my part, I can’t say I am surprised. Young men, you know; and particularly young men of that kind! Well, it has cost him a pretty penny; he’ll remember it as long as he lives.

      ‘Then the property will go—’

      ‘Yes, to the working people in London; the roughest of the rough, they say! What will happen? It will be impossible for us to live here if they come and settle at the Manor. The neighbourhood will be intolerable. Think of the rag-tag-and-bobtail they will bring with them!’

      ‘But Hubert!’ ejaculated Mrs. Waltham, whom this vision of barbaric onset affected little in the crashing together of a great airy castle.

      ‘Well, my dear, after all he still has more to depend upon than many we could instance. Probably he will take to the law,—that is, if he ever returns to England.’

      ‘He is at the Manor,’ said Mrs. Waltham, with none of the pleasure it would ordinarily have given her to be first with an item of news. ‘He came this afternoon.’

      ‘He did! Who has seen him?’

      ‘Alfred and Adela passed him on the road. He was in a cab.’

      ‘I feel for his poor mother. What a meeting it will be! But then we must remember that they had no actual claim on the inheritance. Of course it will be a most grievous disappointment, but what is life made of? I’m afraid some people will be anything but grieved. We must confess that Hubert has not been exactly popular; and I rather wonder at it; I’m sure he might have been if he had liked. Just a little too—too self-conscious, don’t you think? Of course it was quite a mistake, but people had an idea that he presumed on wealth which was not his own. Well, well, we quiet folk look on, don’t we? It’s rather like a play.’

      Presently Mrs. Mewling leaned forward yet more confidentially.

      ‘My dear, you won’t be offended? You don’t mind a question? There wasn’t anything definite?—Adela, I mean.’

      ‘Nothing, nothing whatever!’ Mrs. Waltham asserted with vigour.

      ‘Ha!’ Mrs. Mewling sighed deeply. ‘How relieved I am! I did so fear!’

      ‘Nothing whatever,’ the other lady repeated.

      ‘Thank goodness! Then there is no need to breathe a word of those shocking matters. But they do get abroad so!’

      A reflection Mrs. Mewling was justified in making.

      CHAPTER II

      The cab which had passed Adela and her brother at a short distance from Wanley brought faces to the windows or door of almost every house as it rolled through the village street. The direction in which it was going, the trunk on the roof, the certainty that it had come from Agworth station, suggested to everyone that young Eldon sat within. The occupant had, however, put up both windows just before entering the village, and sight of him was not obtained. Wanley had abundant matter for gossip that evening. Hubert’s return, giving a keener edge to the mystery of his so long delay, would alone have sufficed to wagging tongues; hut, in addition, Mrs. Mewling was on the warpath, and the intelligence she spread was of a kind to run like wildfire.

      The approach to the Manor was a carriage-road, obliquely ascending the bill from a point some quarter of a mile beyond the cottages which once housed Belwick’s abbots. Of the house scarcely a glimpse could be caught till you were well within the gates, so thickly was it embosomed in trees. This afternoon it wore a cheerless face; most of the blinds were still down, and the dwelling might have been unoccupied, for any sign of human activity that the eye could catch. There was no porch at the main entrance, and the heavy nail-studded door greeted a visitor somewhat sombrely. On the front of a gable stood the words ‘Nisi Dominus.’

      The vehicle drew up, and there descended a young man of pale countenance, his attire indicating long and hasty travel. He pulled vigorously at the end of a hanging bell-chain, and the door was immediately opened by a man-servant in black. Hubert, for he it was, pointed to his trunk, and, whilst it was being carried into the house, took some loose coin from his pocket. He handed the driver a sovereign.

      ‘I have no change, sir,’ said the man, after examining the coin. But Hubert had already turned away; he merely waved his hand, and entered the house. For a drive of two miles, the cabman held himself tolerably paid.

      The hall was dusky, and seemed in need of fresh air. Hubert threw off his hat, gloves, and overcoat; then for the first time spoke to the servant, who stood in an attitude of expectancy.

      ‘Mrs. Eldon is at home?’

      ‘At home, sir, but very unwell. She desires me to say that she fears she may not be able to see you this evening.’

      ‘Is there a fire anywhere?’

      ‘Only in the library, sir.’

      ‘I will dine there. And let a fire be lit in my bedroom.’

      ‘Yes, sir. Will you dine at once, sir?’

      ‘In an hour. Something light; I don’t care what it is.’

      ‘Shall the fire be lit in your bedroom at once, sir?’

      ‘At once, and a hot bath prepared. Come to the library and tell me when it is ready.’

      The servant СКАЧАТЬ