Short Fiction by M. R. James (inspirational books for women TXT) 📕

“Now, really it’s very kind of you to take it in that way, Mr. Humphreys, isn’t it, George? And you do forgive me? But only fancy! You never saw poor old Mr. Wilson!”

“Never in my life; nor did I ever have a letter from him. But, by the way, you have something to forgive me for. I’ve never thanked you, except by letter, for all the trouble you’ve taken to find people to look after me at the Hall.”

“Oh, I’m sure that was nothing, Mr. Humphreys; but I really do think that you’ll find them give satisfaction. The man and his wife whom we’ve got for the butler and housekeeper we’ve known for a number of years: such a nice respectable couple, and Mr. Cooper, I’m sure, can answer for the men in the stables and gardens.”

“Yes, Mr. Humphreys, they’re a good lot. The head gardener’s the only one who’s stopped on from Mr. Wilson’s time. The major part of the employees, as you no doubt saw by the will, received legacies from the old gentleman and retired from their posts, and as the wife says, your housekeeper and butler are calculated to render you every satisfaction.”

“So everything, Mr. Humphreys, is ready for you to step in this very day, according to what I understood you to wish,” said Mrs. Cooper. “Everything, that is, except company, and there I’m afraid you’ll find yourself quite at a standstill. Only we did understand it was your intention to move in at once. If not, I’m sure you know we should have been only too pleased for you to stay here.”

“I’m quite sure you would, Mrs. Cooper, and I’m very grateful to you. But I thought I had really better make the plunge at once. I’m accustomed to living alone, and there will be quite enough to occupy my evenings⁠—looking over papers and books and so on⁠—for some time to come, I thought if Mr. Cooper could spare the time this afternoon to go over the house and grounds with me⁠—”

“Certainly, certainly, Mr. Humphreys. My time is your own, up to any hour you please.”

“Till dinnertime, father, you mean,” said Miss Cooper. “Don’t forget we’re going over to the Brasnetts’. And have you got all the garden keys?”

“Are you a great gardener, Miss Cooper?” said Mr. Humphreys. “I wish you would tell me what I’m to expect at the Hall.”

“Oh, I don’t know about a great gardener, Mr. Humphreys: I’m very fond of flowers⁠—but the Hall garden might be made quite lovely, I often say. It’s very old-fashioned as it is: and a great deal of shrubbery. There’s an old temple, besides, and a maze.”

“Really? Have you explored it ever?”

“No-o,” said Miss Cooper, drawing in her lips and shaking her head. “I’ve often longed to try, but old Mr. Wilson always kept it locked. He wouldn’t even let Lady Wardrop into it. (She lives near here, at Bentley, you know, and she’s a great gardener, if you like.) That’s why I asked father if he had all the keys.”

“I see. Well, I must evidently look into that, and show you over it when I’ve learnt the way.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Humphreys! Now I shall have the laugh of Miss Foster (that’s our rector’s daughter, you know; they’re away on their holiday now⁠—such nice people). We always had a joke between us which should be the first to get into the maze.”

“I think the garden keys must be up at the house,” said Mr. Cooper, who had been looking over a large bunch. “There is a number there in the library. Now, Mr. Humphreys, if you’re prepared, we might bid goodbye to these ladies and set forward on our little tour of exploration.”

As they came out of Mr. Cooper’s front gate, Humphreys had to run the gauntlet⁠—not of an organized demonstration, but of a good deal of touching of hats and careful contemplation from the men and women who had gathered in somewhat unusual numbers in the village street. He had, further, to exchange some remarks with the wife of the lodge-keeper as they passed the park gates, and with the lodge-keeper himself, who was attending to the park road. I cannot, however, spare the time to report the progress fully. As they traversed the half-mile or so between the lodge and the house, Humphreys took occasion to ask his companion some question which brought up the topic of his late uncle, and it did not take long before Mr. Cooper was embarked upon a disquisition.

“It is singular to think, as the wife was saying just now, that you should never have seen the old gentleman. And yet⁠—you won’t misunderstand me, Mr. Humphreys, I feel confident, when I say that in my opinion there would have been but little congeniality betwixt yourself and him. Not that I have a word to say in deprecation⁠—not a single word. I can tell you what he was,” said Mr. Cooper, pulling up suddenly and fixing Humphreys with his eye. “Can tell you what he was in a nutshell, as the saying goes. He was a complete, thorough valentudinarian. That describes him to a T. That’s what he was, sir, a complete valentudinarian. No participation in what went on around him. I did venture, I think, to send you a few words of cutting from our local paper, which I took the occasion to contribute on his decease. If I recollect myself aright, such is very much the gist of them. But don’t, Mr. Humphreys,” continued Cooper, tapping him impressively on the chest⁠—“don’t you run away with the impression that I wish to say aught but what is most creditable⁠—most creditable⁠—of your respected uncle and my late employer. Upright, Mr. Humphreys⁠—open as the day; liberal to all in his dealings. He had the heart to feel and the hand to accommodate. But there it was: there was the stumbling-block⁠—his unfortunate health⁠—or, as I might more truly phrase it, his want of health.”

“Yes, poor man. Did he suffer from any special disorder before his last illness⁠—which, I take it, was little more than old age?”

“Just that, Mr. Humphreys⁠—just that.