Run to Earth by Mary Elizabeth Braddon (ready player one ebook TXT) 📕

of a young and lovely bride; and he will be inclined to think kindly of

me, and of all the world. Yes—the letter is decidedly a fine stroke of

diplomacy.”

Reginald Eversleigh awaited a reply to his epistle with feverish

impatience; but an impatience mingled with hope.

His hopes did not deceive him. The reply came by return of post, and

was even more favourable than his most sanguine expectations had led

him to anticipate.

“Dear Reginald,” wrote the baronet, “_your generous and disinterested

letter has touched me to the heart. Let the past be forgotten and

forgiven. I do not doubt that you have suffered, as all men must

suffer, from the evil deeds of their youth_.

“_You were no doubt surprised to receive the tidings of my marriage. I

have consulted my heart alone in the choice which I have made, and I

venture to hope that choice will secure the happiness of my future

existence. I am spending the first weeks of my married life amidst the

lovely solitudes of North Wales. On the 24th of this month, Lady

Eversleigh and I go to Raynham, where we shall be glad to see you

immediately on our arrival. Come to us, my dear boy; come to me, as if

this unhappy estrangement had never arisen, and we will discuss your

future together.—Your affectionate uncle_, OSWALD EVERSLEIGH.”

“Royal Hotel, Bannerdoon, N. W.”

Nothing could be more satisfactory than this epistle. Reginald

Eversleigh and Victor Carrington dined together that evening, and the

baronet’s letter was freely discussed between them.

“The ground lies all clear before you now,” said the surgeon: “you will

go to Raynham, make yourself as agreeable as possible to the bride, win

your uncle’s heart by an appearance of extreme remorse for the past,

and most complete disinterestedness for the future, and leave all the

rest to me.”

“But how the deuce can you help me at Raynham?”

“Time alone can show. I have only one hint to give you at present.

Don’t be surprised if you meet me unexpectedly amongst the Yorkshire

hills and wolds, and take care to follow suit with whatever cards you

see me playing. Whatever I do will be done in your interest, depend

upon it. Mind, by the bye, if you do see me in the north, that I know

nothing of your visit to Raynham. I shall be as much surprised to see

you as you will be to see me.”

“So be it; I will fall into your plans. As your first move has been so

wonderfully successful, I shall be inclined to trust you implicitly in

the future. I suppose you will want to be paid rather stiffly by and

bye, if you do succeed in getting me any portion of Sir Oswald’s

fortune?”

“Well, I shall ask for some reward, no doubt. I am a poor man, you

know, and do not pretend to be disinterested or generous. However, we

will discuss that question when we meet at Raynham.”

*

On the 28th of July, Reginald Eversleigh presented himself at Raynham

Castle. He had thought never more to set foot upon that broad terrace,

never more to pass beneath the shadow of that grand old archway; and a

sense of triumph thrilled through his veins as he stood once again on

the familiar threshold.

And yet his position in life was terribly changed since he had last

stood there. He was no longer the acknowledged heir to whom all

dependents paid deferential homage. He fancied that the old servants

looked at him coldly, and that their greeting was the chilling welcome

which is accorded to a poor relation. He had never done much to win

affection or gratitude in the days of his prosperity. It may be that he

remembered this now, and regretted it, not from any kindly impulse

towards these people, but from a selfish annoyance at the chilling

reception accorded him.

“If ever I win back what I have lost, these pampered parasites shall

suffer for their insolence,” thought the young man, as he walked across

the broad Gothic hall of the castle, escorted by the grave old butler.

But he had not much leisure to think about his uncle’s servants.

Another and far more important person occupied his mind, and that

person was his uncle’s bride.

“Lady Eversleigh is at home?” he asked, while crossing the hall.

“Yes, sir; her ladyship is in the long drawing-room.”

The butler opened a ponderous oaken door, and ushered Reginald into one

of the finest apartments in the castle.

In the centre of this room, by the side of a grand piano, from which

she had just risen, stood the new mistress of the castle. She was

simply dressed in pale gray silk, relieved only by a scarlet ribbon

twisted in the masses of her raven hair. Her beauty had the same effect

upon Reginald Eversleigh which it exercised on almost all who looked at

her for the first time. He was dazzled, bewildered, by the singular

loveliness.

“And this divinity—this goddess of grace and beauty, is my uncle’s

wife,” he thought; “this is the street ballad-singer whom he picked up

out of the gutter.”

For some moments the elegant and accomplished Reginald Eversleigh stood

abashed before the calm presence of the nameless girl his uncle had

married.

Sir Oswald welcomed his nephew with perfect cordiality. He was happy,

and in the hour of his happiness he could cherish no unkind feeling

towards the adopted son who had once been so dear to him. But while

ready to open his arms to the repentant prodigal, his intentions with

regard to the disposition of his wealth had undergone no change. He had

arrived, calmly and deliberately, at a certain resolve, and he intended

to adhere to that decision.

The baronet told his nephew this frankly in the first confidential

conversation which they had after the young man’s arrival at Raynham.

“You may think me harsh and severe,” he said, gravely; “but the

resolution which I announced to you in Arlington Street cost me much

thought and care. I believe that I have acted for the best. I think

that my over-indulgence was the bane of your youth, Reginald, and that

you would have been a better man had you been more roughly reared.

Since you have left the army, I have heard no more of your follies; and

I trust that you have at last struck out a better path for yourself,

and separated yourself from all dangerous associates. But you must

choose a new profession. You must not live an idle life on the small

income which you receive from me. I only intended that annuity as a

safeguard against poverty, not as a sufficient means of life. You must

select a new career, Reginald; and whatever it may be, I will give you

some help to smooth your pathway. Your first cousin, Douglas Dale, is

studying for the law—would not that profession suit you?”

“I am in your hands, sir, and am ready to obey you in everything.”

“Well, think over what I have said; and if you choose to enter yourself

as a student in the Temple, I will assist you with all necessary

funds.”

“My dear uncle, you are too good.”

“I wish to serve you as far as I can with justice to others. And now,

Reginald, we will speak no more of the past. What do you think of my

wife?”

“She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld.”

“And she is as good and true as she is beautiful—a pearl of price,

Reginald. I thank Providence for giving me so great a treasure.”

“And this treasure will be possessor of Raynham Castle, I suppose,”

thought the young man, savagely.

Sir Oswald spoke presently, almost as if in answer to his nephew’s

thoughts.

“As I have been thoroughly candid with you, Reginald,” he said, “I may

as well tell you even more. I am at an age which some call the prime of

life, and I feel all my old vigour. But death sometimes comes suddenly

to men whose life seems as full of promise as mine seems to me now. I

wish that when I die there may be no possible disappointment as to the

disposal of my fortune. Other men make a mystery of the contents of

their wills. I wish the terms of my will to be known by all interested

in it.”

“I have no desire to be enlightened, sir,” murmured Reginald, who felt

that his uncle’s words boded no good to himself.

“My will has been made since my marriage,” continued Sir Oswald,

without noticing his nephew’s interruption; “any previous will would,

indeed, have been invalidated by that event Two-thirds—more than two-thirds—of my property has been left to my wife, who will be a very

rich woman when I am dead and gone. Should she have a son, the landed

estates will, of course, go to him; but in any case, Lady Eversleigh

will be mistress of a large fortune. I leave five thousand a year to

each of my nephews. As for you, Reginald, you will, perhaps, consider

yourself bitterly wronged; but you must, in justice, remember that you

have been your own enemy. The annuity of two hundred a year which you

now possess will, after my death, become an income of five hundred a

year, derived from a small estate called Morton Grange, in

Lincolnshire. You have nothing more than a modest competency to hope

for, therefore; and it rests with yourself to win wealth and

distinction by the exercise of your own talents.”

The pallor of Reginald Eversleigh’s face alone revealed the passion

which consumed him as he received these most unwelcome statements from

his uncle’s lips. Fortunately for the young man, Sir Oswald did not

observe his countenance, for at this moment Lady Eversleigh appeared on

the terrace-walk outside the open window of her husband’s study, and he

hurried to her.

“What are to be our plans for this afternoon, darling?” he asked. “I

have transacted all my business, and am quite at your service for the

rest of the day.”

“Very well, then, you cannot please me better than by showing me some

more of the beauties of your native county.”

“You make that proposition because you know it pleases me, artful puss;

but I obey. Shall we ride or drive? Perhaps, as the afternoon is hot,

we had better take the barouche,” continued Sir Oswald, while Honoria

hesitated. “Come to luncheon. I will give all necessary orders.”

They went to the dining-room, whither Reginald accompanied them.

Already he had contrived to banish the traces of emotion from his

countenance: but his uncle’s words were still ringing in his ears.

Five hundred a year!—he was to receive a pitiful five hundred a year;

whilst his cousins—struggling men of the world, unaccustomed to luxury

and splendour—were each to have an income of five thousand. And this

woman—this base, unknown, friendless creature, who had nothing but her

diabolical beauty to recommend her—was to have a splendid fortune!

These were the thoughts which tormented Reginald Eversleigh as he took

his place at the luncheon-table. He had been now a fortnight at Raynham

Castle, and had become, to all outward appearance, perfectly at his

ease with the fair young mistress of the mansion. There are some women

who seem fitted to occupy any station, however lofty. They need no

teaching; they are in no way bewildered by the novelty of wealth or

splendour; they make no errors. They possess an instinctive tact, which

all the teaching possible cannot always impart to others.