Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
"Yes, I always do," assented Jardine a trifle wearily; "but you know,
Duke, it would be wiser to raise the two thousand pounds at once and
have done with it. If Pitt and Peter here were to join in a _post
obit_, and I were to back it----"
"Thanks!" said Marmaduke curtly. "I only asked for two hundred pounds,
and you can put that in the bill, can't you?"
"Yes," assented Jardine again wearily, "I can put it in the bill"
When Marmaduke had gone out of the room Peter crossed over to the fire
and knocked the ashes out of his pipe.
"I wonder what he has got in his head," he remarked thoughtfully.
"It's something to do with Fantine, _alias_ Fanny Biggs, I'm sure."
"Fantine?" echoed Jack Jardine. "Why, of course, anyone can see that
Marmaduke has been trying to get to the right side of her. I advised
him to do so. And she, of course--by that scoundrel Compton's advice,
I expect--has been trying to make the peer jealous in order to get rid
of Marmaduke!"
Peter burst out laughing.
"Look here, Jack, you're excellent as a man of business, but you're a
mole with women, you old bachelor! I could tell you a thing or two,
but I won't--it's too amusing." And he strolled out of the room
chuckling to himself.
Over in the keep-house, Marrion Paul felt that she, also, could tell a
thing or two, even after the brief experience of being maid to Fantine
Le Grand; but she did not find it amusing. On the contrary, it sent
her about her new work with a frown in her eyes that were keen for
every sign.
The day had been a troublous one. The old peer, up for the first time,
had been so irritable that the whole household was upset. Fantine Le
Grand, indeed, coming up for her usual late afternoon rest, had
professed herself so outwearied by a protracted penance in milord's
private room that she bade Marrion give her a double dose of her
sleeping draught and tell the butler she was not coming down to
dinner. She would have a dainty little supper in her boudoir at ten
o'clock, and till then did not wish to be disturbed. Being thus set
free, Marrion was going home when, as she passed the stairway leading
to the room which Marmaduke had occupied and where Andrew Fraser still
kept some of his master's spare things, she heard a noise as of
someone shifting boxes. Running up to see what it was, she found
Andrew busy packing up.
"Aye, we're awa' the morn's morn," he replied cheerfully to her query,
"and blythe am I that the finest gentleman in the Queen's army will
run no more danger o' bein' ruined by a whore-woman and an auld, auld
man, as s'ould be thinkin' o' his grave an' the Last Day."
Despite a sudden catch at her heart, his hearer acquiesced calmly.
"Aye, it's well he's goin! But where is it to?"
"To Edinbro'. He's an appointment tae meet Major Pringle the morrow's
morn aboot the exchange."
"An' when he's comin' back?" asked Marrion sharply.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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