England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction
"Let me show you the way," said Newton. "I shall return to you
presently, Mr. Liddell."
The old man bent his head. "See that the girl comes to-morrow," he said,
and leaned back wearily in his chair.
The friendly lawyer led the way upstairs, and showed Mrs. Liddell a
large room, half bed, half sitting, with plenty of heavy old-fashioned
furniture. "This was, I think, the drawing-room," said Mr. Newton; "and
having extracted permission from my very peculiar client to have the
house cleaned, so far as it could be done, which it sorely needed, the
person I employed selected the best of the furniture for this room. We
propose to give the next room at the back to the servant. You have, I
believe, found one?"
"Yes, a respectable elderly woman, of whom I have had an excellent
character."
After Mrs. Liddell had visited the rooms upstairs--mere dismantled
receptacles of rubbish--and they returned to what was to be Katherine's
abode, she sat down on the ponderous sofa, and in spite of her efforts
to control herself the tears would well up and roll over.
"I feel quite ashamed of myself," said she, in a broken voice; "but when
I think of my Katie, here alone, with that cruel old man, it is too much
for my strength. She has been so tenderly reared, her life, though quiet
and humble, has been so cared for, so tranquil, that I shrink from the
idea of her banishment here."
"It is not unnatural, my dear madam, but indeed the trial is worth
enduring. Do not believe that the will of which Mr. Liddell speaks is
irrevocable. He has made two or three to my certain knowledge, and it
would be foolish to cut your daughter off from, any chance of sharing
his fortune, which is considerable, I assure you, merely to avoid a
little present annoyance."
"It would indeed. Do not think me very weak. It is a passing fit of the
dolefuls. I have had much anxiety of late, and for the moment I have a
painful feeling that I have sold myself and my dear daughter into the
hands of a relentless creditor; that I shall never free my neck from his
yoke. I shall probably feel differently to-morrow."
"I dare say you will. You are a lady of much imagination; a writer, your
daughter tells me. Such an occupation should be an outlet for all
imaginative terrors or anticipations, and leave your mind, your
judgment, clear and free. I am sure Miss Liddell will do her uncle and
herself good by her residence here. Mr. Liddell has been a source of
anxiety to me and to my partners. We have, you know, been his legal
advisers for years, and to know that he is in good hands will be a great
relief. Rely on my--on our doing our best to assist your daughter in
every way."
Mrs. Liddell, perceiving the friendly spirit which actuated the precise
lawyer, thanked him warmly, and after a little further discussion of
details, took her way home.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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