The Story of Charles Strange: A Novel. Vol. 2 (of 3) — John Shaqi
The Story of Charles Strange: A Novel. Vol. 2 (of 3)Wood, Henry, Mrs.
General
The Story of Charles Strange: A Novel. Vol. 2 (of 3)
Wood, Henry, Mrs.
Fiction
He had not left as much money as might have been expected. I suppose
the rate at which they lived had absorbed it. Nearly the whole of it
was vested in trustees, who would pay the interest to Mrs. Brightman
until her death, when it would all descend unconditionally to Annabel.
If she married again, one half the yearly income at once went to
Annabel. To my surprise, I was left executor. Mr. Brightman had never
told me so. Of the two executors originally appointed--for the will
had been made many years--one had recently died, and Mr. Brightman had
inserted my name in his place. That all the work would fall upon my
shoulders I knew, for the other executor had become a confirmed
invalid.
With regard to our own articles of partnership, provided for by a
recent codicil, they were very favourable to me, though somewhat
peculiar. If Mr. Brightman died before I was thirty years of age,
two-thirds of the net profits of the business were to be paid to Mrs.
Brightman for three years; but if I had passed my thirtieth year when
he died, only half the profits would go to her. After the first three
years, one-third of the profits would be hers for three years more;
and then all would revert to me absolutely.
I wanted some years yet of thirty. But it was an excellent and
lucrative practice. Few men fall into so good a thing when they are
still young.
"So there you are, Charles, the head of one of the best professional
houses in London," remarked my uncle Stillingfar, as he took my arm
when we were leaving the house. "Rather different from what your fate
might have been, had you carried out your wish of going to the Bar. My
boy, you may be thankful that you know nothing of the struggles I had
to go through."
"Do you still feel quite well and strong, uncle?" I asked, after a
bit.
"Yes, I do, Charles. I suppose you think I am growing old. But I
believe I am more capable of work than are many of my juniors who are
now on circuit with me. With a sound constitution, never played with,
and a temperate way of life, we retain our energies, by God's
blessing, to an older age than mine."
That was no doubt true. True also that he must be making heaps of
money. I wondered what he meant to do with it. He had been very
liberal to me as long as I needed help, but that time was over.
The sad week passed away. On the following Monday I set to
professional business in earnest: the previous week had been much
given to matters not professional. One of the first things to be
attended to was to prove the will of Sir Ralph Clavering, and, in the
course of the morning, I unlocked the iron safe in the front room to
get it. Nothing was ever placed in that safe but wills and
title-deeds, and these were never placed anywhere else. But where this
particular will was hiding itself, I could not tell, for I turned over
every paper the place contained without coming to it. "More haste less
speed," cried I to myself, for I had been doing it in a hurry. "I must
have overlooked it."
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