On the following morning at eleven o’clock, Eustace, who had managed to
get a few days’ leave from his employers, arrived with Mr. John Short
to take Augusta and Lady Holmhurst—who was going to chaperon her—to
Somerset House, whither, notwithstanding her objections of the previous
day, she had at last consented to go. Mr. Short was introduced, and
much impressed both the ladies by the extraordinary air of learning and
command which was stamped upon his countenance. He wanted to inspect
the will at once; but Augusta struck at this, saying that it would be
quite enough to have her shoulders stared at once that day. With a sigh
and a shake of the head at her unreasonableness, Mr. John Short
submitted, and then the carriage came round and they were all driven
off to Somerset House. Presently they were there, and after threading
innumerable chilly passages, reached a dismal room with an almanack, a
dirty deal table, and a few chairs in it, wherein were congregated
several solicitors’ clerks, waiting their turn to appear before the
Registrar. Here they waited for half-an-hour or more, to Augusta’s
considerable discomfort, for she soon found that she was an object of
curiosity and closest attention to the solicitors’ clerks, who never
took their eyes off her. Presently she discovered the reason, for
having remarkably quick ears, she overheard one of the solicitors’
clerks, a callow little man with yellow hair and an enormous diamond
pin, whose appearance somehow reminded her of a new-born chicken, tell
another, who was evidently of the Jewish faith, that she (Augusta) was
the respondent in the famous divorce case of Jones _v._ Jones, and was
going to appear before the Registrar to submit herself to cross
examination in some matter connected with a grant of alimony. Now, as
all London was talking about the alleged iniquities of the Mrs. Jones
in question, whose moral turpitude was only equalled by her beauty,
Augusta did not feel best pleased, although she perceived that she
instantly became an object of heartfelt admiration to the clerks.
Presently, however, somebody poked his head through the door, which he
opened just wide enough to admit it, and bawling out—
“Short, re Meeson,” vanished as abruptly as he had come.
“Now, Lady Holmhurst, if you please,” said Mr. John Short, “allow me to
show the way, if you will kindly follow with the will—this way,
please.”
In another minute, the unfortunate “will” found herself in a large and
lofty room, at the top of which, with his back to the light, sat a most
agreeable-looking middle-aged gentleman, who, as they advanced, rose
with a politeness that one does not generally expect from officials on
a fixed salary, and, bowing, asked them to be seated.
“Well, what can I do for you? Mr.—ah! Mr.”—and he put on his
eye-glasses and referred to his notes—“Mr. Short—you wish to file a
will, I understand; and there are peculiar circumstances of some sort
in the case?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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