Torwood's trust

hink I gave him one that time,’ said Phil, as they walked away. ‘How I hated him, when I saw him again!—just as I did when I was a small boy and he bullied me.’

‘They are mad that they can’t prosecute me,’ said Tor, laughing. ‘I should get scant mercy at their hands.’

‘He looks a regular old scoundrel, and I believe he is one; but I don’t believe I should dare to defy him, if I hadn’t you at my back.’

‘The old story—eh, Phil?’

‘It will be the old story till the end of the chapter, I expect, old man. You mustn’t desert me when you marry Maud.’

‘No fear.’

‘I shall do as old Maynard wished, and make good the money to her; he would have left it to her, if he hadn’t been afraid of doing more harm than good.’

‘Well, it’s not for me to stand in the way of what you think right; but I have plenty for both, you know, and Ladywell wants keeping up.’

‘Maud shall be well dowered, anyway—that’s my positive duty as head of the family; but is there no way of punishing that Belassis for ruining my father, and destroying his last will?—for I know he did both.’

‘We can’t prove even the existence of that other will, much less its destruction, though we are quite convinced of both. As to the other question, I have made out that it would be a difficult matter to open an inquiry at this distance of time. Besides, you know, a knave can ruin an honest man without going beyond the limit of the law, if he only knows how to set about it. I believe Belassis did know that well.’

‘The old scoundrel!’ muttered Phil. ‘I wish we could ruin him.’

‘Strikes me he’ll ruin himself some of these days, without any assistance from us.’

‘How so?’

‘Speculation.’

‘Ah! you think that?’

‘I do; and it strikes me it will be all he can do to produce the £5000 of Maud’s trust-money, which will have to be handed over.’

‘You don’t mean to say you think he’s played fast and loose with that?’

‘I do. I am pretty sure it is so, otherwise he would have cared little about the marriage. It is either that, or else the fear that the later will may turn up—if he has not found and destroyed it.’

‘The old scoundrel! Come, Tor, we’ll change the subject, or I shall lose my temper. Shall we go to the Merediths’ now?’

‘If you like.’

‘I do like. I want to get things settled with Roma. Tor, old man, you’ll settle the father for me, won’t you?’

‘All right; but you must come too, or he’ll not believe me when I try to explain.’

‘He won’t have a fit or anything, I hope?’

‘Oh no! He’ll not care a bit, so long as Philip Debenham is willing to marry his daughter.’

‘He’s an old ass!’

‘Don’t tell Roma so, anyhow; and don’t be so free of your opinions respecting your future father-in-law.’

Phil felt slightly rebuked, more by the tone than the words.

‘It’s only to you, Tor. I rather like the old boy, really.’

‘He’s not bad, if he can once be made to forget himself.’

‘Roma is an angel! I never knew so devoted a daughter.’

‘I don’t think her life has been a happy one heretofore; mind you make it more so, Phil. She has very warm feelings, as I dare say you know better than I, and the passionate nature of the South, little as one would think it. Her father’s blindness was caused by her, in a fit of fury. She will tell you the story herself, no doubt; she was more sinned against than sinning, I shall always say. I don’t think she has ever got over the shock and the grief, and it seems to have crushed out all the passion of her nature, and almost all else but the devotion to her father. Remember that, Phil; and be very gentle and patient if she does not all at once yield to you the first place, which naturally seems your right.’

‘I will, my Mentor; I will! Give me all the good advice you can, for I’m a muff, and I know it; but I do love Roma!’

‘Then love will teach you better than I,’ said Tor; and they walked on in silence.

‘Ah, Philip Debenham!’ said Michael Meredith, as the two entered the room together. ‘Philip Debenham and my friend the Signor. I am happy to welcome you both.’

‘You will welcome one of us still more warmly, when I have introduced him afresh,’ answered Tor, as he took the old man’s hand in his.

‘You are pleased to speak in riddles, Philip,’ said Meredith, smiling.

‘Not at all, sir, I assure you.’

‘Do you mean to say that I require a new introduction to my friend Signor Pagliadini?’

‘I do indeed!’

Meredith was smiling blandly, as if he rather enjoyed the little mystery.

‘Under a new name?’

‘Yes; a new name that is yet not altogether new to you.’

‘Then let me hear this new, familiar name.’

‘The name of my friend here,’ said Tor quietly, ‘is Philip Debenham!’

‘Very much at your service, sir,’ said Phil, in his own voice and tongue; ‘who has to return you many thanks for your hospitality, and begs to apologize for the deception practised upon you.’

Michael Meredith had started, and changed colour somewhat, as Phil’s voice had fallen upon his ear.

‘Philip Debenham! Philip Debenham!’ he repeated slowly. ‘It is, indeed, as if one had returned from the dead! It is the voice of my well-beloved friend himself!’

‘Of his son, at least, Mr. Meredith, who hopes soon to become well beloved on his own account,’ said Phil.

‘But you, Philip—I mean, you whom I have learned to call Philip, in spite of early misgivings—who and what are you?’

‘Philip no longer, now that my work of deputy is done. I assure you, Mr. Meredith, I have acted in all things merely as a deputy.’

‘And who are you, then?’

‘He’s the best fellow in all the world!’ cried Phil impulsively; ‘my friend Torwood!’

‘You are Philip Debenham—there can be no doubt of that!’ said Meredith slowly; ‘but why was this mystery made? Why were you represented by your friend? Why did you appear here in disguise? And how did you obtain an introduction from my esteemed relative Signor Mattei?’

Tor explained the matter briefly and clearly, as much, at least, as there was any need to explain. Mr. Meredith listened with interest and attention. He seemed amused and entertained by what he heard, which had about it a flavour of romance that just suited him. He was quite ready to become an accomplice, and promised never to reveal the fact that Phil and the Signor were one and the same. He was not likely to publish anything which should show that his perceptions had ever been at fault.

Suddenly, however, a cloud seemed to settle upon his brow. Tor saw it, and understood its meaning, and signed to Phil to depart.

Phil obeyed gladly, being all on fire to find and claim Roma as his own.

‘Now, Mr. Meredith,’ said Tor, when he and the old man were alone together, ‘you and I have a little matter to discuss between us.’

‘Yes, Mr. Torwood; and I am a man of honour. If I must keep my word, I must; but this has been a shock to me.’

‘In what way, sir?’

‘Can you not guess?’

‘Perhaps you are thinking of your daughter?’

‘I am. I have liked you, as you know, for your own sake. I would gladly welcome you as a son-in-law—and yet—I have set my heart upon marrying Roma to Philip Debenham’s son.’

‘And you may do so still! Have I not said that in all things I have acted merely as my friend’s deputy?’

Meredith’s face expressed a sort of surprised satisfaction.

‘Engaged yourself to Roma by deputy, do you mean, Mr. Torwood?’

‘I think, sir,’ said Tor, smiling, ‘that it was you who engaged us. We had little voice in the matter, if you remember.’

‘Ah, well, I may have said the most; but I quite understood that you accepted.’

‘I did not decline, because it would have hurt you if I had done so at such a moment; and besides, I had no right.’

‘How so?’

‘It was not to me, but to my friend Philip that the proposition was made. I could not decline a bride, so likely to be beloved by him.’

‘You thought that?’

‘I did—I have every reason to think it still.’

Meredith smiled gently, and then his face grew grave.

‘Roma——’ he began, and said no more.

‘Make your mind easy; she never cared one atom for me.’

‘Why—why? She always seemed——’

‘She merely liked me as an ordinary friend—nothing more.’

‘And you?’

‘I cared only for Maud, who is now my promised wife. Roma and I understood one another all along. I could not explain everything; but she knew from the first that the engagement was purely nominal.’

Michael Meredith held out his hand.

‘Sir, you are a man of honour, and a true gentleman. I thank you with all my heart. I could almost wish still that I might call you son.’

‘Phil will be a son much more to your mind than I could ever be, Mr. Meredith,’ answered Tor. ‘He and Roma were made for one another. At least, I can answer for it that Roma is just the sort of wife he wants, to steady him down and give him an object in life. A little ballast is all he needs. He is the best-hearted, sunniest-tempered fellow in the world.’

‘I can believe it—as his father was before him. I wonder——’

He paused; but Tor took up the word and added:

‘Wonder if the second Philip Debenham will be as amenable as the first? I should not have much anxiety on that point.’

‘You think——?’

‘I think Roma and Signor Pagliadini spent a great deal of time wandering about in the moonlight together.’

‘Did they?’

Old Meredith looked disturbed for a moment, as though he had been guilty of some indiscretion, as indeed he had.

‘Really, I did not notice—I—I—. You see, Roma was engaged.’

‘Only she knew she was free. She was certainly allowed to run into danger; but on the whole, I fancy, it will not turn out amiss.’

‘Go and find her,’ said Meredith. ‘I must see her myself; go and fetch her to me. Where has Philip Debenham gone?’

‘I should not be surprised to find them together,’ said Tor, rising. ‘If so, shall I bring both the culprits?’

‘Yes, do so. It is strange, indeed, how my will always fulfils itself.’

‘Indeed, yes,’ answered Tor, with a slight smile.

‘And you know, Mr. Torwood, I did misdoubt you somewhat from the first.’

‘You certainly did, sir, in the first moment of our acquaintance. Your sagacity, you see, was not at fault.’

And then he went off on his errand.

He did not find those he sought very readily; but they were alone and together, sure enough, in a remote part of the garden. It was not difficult to see that Philip Debenham had easily usurped Signor Pagliadini’s place; but even yet Roma was not quite content.

‘Well,’ said Tor, when his presence was first observed, ‘is it all well?’

‘Roma is afraid of what her father will say,’ said Phil.

‘He was so fond of you,’ said Roma, looking up at him without any fear or shame.

‘You can’t have him now, Roma,’ said Phil. ‘He’s engaged to Maud. He lost no time, I can assure you. He leaped from the brother to the lover in about ten seconds. Have you explained everything to Mr. Meredith, Tor?’

‘Yes, and he is desirous of bestowing his blessing upon you. It is all right, Roma. I told you it would be all right, if you would only wait my time. He is more pleased than ever. Go to him, and see for yourself if it is not so.’

Phil and Roma returned slowly to the house to receive the paternal benediction, and Tor strolled across the park to Ladywell.

‘Well, Mr. Torwood,’ said a voice behind him; ‘how does it feel to be no longer monarch of all you survey?’

‘Is that you, Miss Marjory? This is well met. I have hardly seen you all day.’

‘No, you found metal more attractive elsewhere. I am not jealous, I assure you. Well, how has the Belassis introduction passed off?’

‘Oh, very well. Phil was quite as bold as I, and more cheeky than I was at my first interview. I don’t think the worthy uncle will make much out of him.’

‘Thanks to you, perhaps not; but he is a mere boy—not fit to have the management of a place like this.’

‘He is only three months my junior.’

‘He is a mere boy, for all that, and you are a man. I like men, for my part. When I was young, it wasn’t the fashion to admire long-haired, knock-kneed youths with narrow chests and æsthetic tastes. I’m behind the times, I know; but I stick to my old-fashioned views. I like a man who can take a horse across country without bringing him home lame, and who knows more of nature than of art. I suppose I should be called an old Philistine nowadays.’

‘I don’t know, I’m sure. I don’t suppose the Philistines were half bad fellows, after all. However, I think Phil will do very well at Ladywell.’

‘You’d do better,’ said Miss Marjory.

‘You think so?’

‘I know it.’

‘Well, Miss Marjory, I’m very glad to be quit of it and its responsibilities, that I can tell you,’ said Tor, stretching his long limbs as if to assure himself that the load was gone. ‘It has been a horrid nuisance at times—all this; and if it had not been for two things accomplished, I should feel inclined to think I had taken more trouble than the matter was worth.’

‘What two things are those?’

‘Keeping Maud out of the hands of the Belassis party, and making your acquaintance, Miss Marjory.’

Miss Marjory bowed.

‘Gaining a wife and a friend, is that it?’ said she. ‘You might have known me long ago if you had not been so lazy as to do all your business through an agent. Middlemen are a mistake.’

‘My middle-man shall henceforward be dismissed. We will do business in future always at first hand—you and I, Miss Marjory.’

‘And I shall get my own way in everything!’ cried Miss Marjory, with animation. ‘You don’t know what you are letting yourself in for!’

‘I thought I was such a competent manager?’

‘You can manage property pretty well, I admit,’ answered Miss Marjory; ‘but I am not aware that I ever said you could manage me!’

‘Perish the thought!’ cried Tor, with fervour. ‘Miss Marjory, did anybody ever manage you since the days of your babyhood?’

‘Of a certainty nobody did so during my babyhood,’ laughed Miss Marjory. ‘I ruled the household before I could speak.’

‘And I’m sure you did so afterwards,’ said Tor, with gravity.

‘Well,’ said Miss Marjory, glancing up at him with quaint humour, ‘I’m not sure but what I did.’

‘You were born great,’ he said, ‘whilst I only had greatness thrust upon me, of which I am very glad to be relieved.’

‘Really?’

‘Really and truly. Do you doubt it?’

‘No; but I know I shouldn’t like to give up the reins of government when once I’d held them. I always do want my finger in everybody’s pie, especially when the pie takes the form of gardens. I never go round a place but what I want to lay it out anew myself, and suggest improvements.’

‘Then I shall expect you to come and lay out mine for me, Miss Marjory, whenever I settle down. Now mind, I shall consider it a bargain from this time forth.’

‘You are going to settle down, then? A good thing, too. “A rolling stone,” you know.’

‘Well, Miss Marjory, to tell the truth, I don’t think you’ve gathered much moss yourself, in spite of your devotion to Whitbury.’

Miss Marjory laughed, but rather liked the compliment implied.

‘Yes,’ said Tor, ‘I am going to settle down as a steady married man, somewhere in this neighbourhood, if I can get a house, so as to be near Phil, who will of course expect me to look after him to a certain extent. Maud likes Devonshire, and so do I. But I shall require one visit a year at least from you, Miss Marjory, just to see that my garden is going on right, and that I am not gathering moss or rust or anything else that I ought not. I shall visit Whitbury, too, from time to time to see after my property there, and renew a very pleasant acquaintance with the place. And if, Miss Marjory, I should be blessed with a family, my first daughter will be called Marjory; and I have in my mind’s eye one sponsor, whom I shall humbly request to stand for her. And if she should by any chance grow up unmanageable, I shall just send her off on a visit to her godmother in Whitbury, to be reduced to order and obedience by the universal manager.’