“There was no settlement,” he said, “reason good, there wasn’t nothing
to settle as was worth the while; but being Mrs Peveril’s only relation,
and responsible like, he spoke very clear and honourable about his means
to me. ‘I ain’t got no money, Mr Spicer,’ he said, ‘but I’ve insured my
life for my daughter, and I’ll do as much for her. They’ll have a
thousand pounds apiece, and that’s better than nothing,’ he said; ‘it
will get them into some snug little way of business or something.’ He
was a sensible man, Mr Peveril, and spoke up handsome when he saw as
nothing was exacted of him. I don’t know what office it’s in, but I
believe as what he said must be true.”
“Perhaps if we were to adjourn into the study, and if one of the ladies
would get the keys, we might look in his desk if there was a will,” said
Mr Turnham. “I am very sorry that our late lamented friend had so short
an illness, and therefore was unable to say anything as to what he
wished.”
“Stop, please,” Mrs Peveril said all at once. “Stop: neither of us is
able to give you any help to-day; and afterwards we will try to manage
for ourselves. We thank you very much, but it is best to leave us to
ourselves. I speak for Mary too.”
“But, my dear Mrs Peveril, you will want some one to manage for you; it
is painful, I know, but it is best to do it at once; you will want some
one to manage----”
“I do not see the necessity,” she said. She was dreadfully pale; I never
saw any one so pale; and it went to my heart to be obliged to side with
her, and acquiesce in what she said; but I could not help it, I was
obliged to give in. She spoke for me too.
“As long as there’s me, you may make your mind easy,” said Spicer. “A
relation; and on the premises, so to speak. I’ll do for ’em all as is
necessary; you may make your mind quite easy, Mr Turnham--you trust to
me.”
Then she got up; her head drooped in her great heavy black bonnet and
veil. She was not like a lily now, in all that crape; but I could not
keep my eyes from her. She was not afraid of these men, as I was. She
held out her hand first to the one, then to the other. “Good-bye,” she
said. “We thank you very much for taking so much interest, but we would
like to be alone to-day. Good-bye.”
Mr Turnham got up not quite pleased, but he shook hands with her and
then with me, and said “Good-bye and God bless you” to us both. “If you
want me, you know where I am to be found,” he said, with a little look
of offence. Spicer stayed behind him, as if he belonged to us.
“I agree with you,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Them as
is strangers has no business with your affairs. Trust ’em to me, my
dear; trust ’em to me. When your money’s safe in a good snug little
business you won’t be so badly off; at least it’s always something to
fall back upon;--don’t you be downhearted, my dear. I don’t see as you
will be so badly off.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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