him his heir jointly with his daughter, Elsie Morley. Charles felt sure that he could count on sixty or seventy thousand at his uncle’s death. That was if things went normally.
But Charles had no guarantee that they would go normally. His uncle’s very peculiar temperament had to be reckoned with. The old man was not exactly mean, but he had a very exalted idea of the value of money, and he would certainly not leave his to anyone whom he considered ‘unworthy’. And in Andrew’s philosophy ‘unworthiness’ would be proved by a business failure.
Charles knew, not only from his estimate of his uncle’s character, but from the old man’s actual speeches, that if he let the works down all of the money but a pittance would go to his cousin. Andrew had raised the concern from nothing to a flourishing business, and he would have no mercy on Charles if, receiving it in that state, he proved himself unable to carry it on.
It would be simplicity itself for Charles to go to Andrew and ask him to advance him a small proportion of what would eventually come to him. Under the circumstances it would be a small request and the old man could not possibly feel it. But Charles knew that Andrew would not agree without inquiring into the whole circumstances, and the effect of that on Charles’s prospects would be incalculable.
Therefore everything depended on the way the old gentleman was handled. If Charles could put his case satisfactorily he might get what he wanted without a word. On the other hand, there was a real possibility that the interview might end with not only a refusal, but disinheritance as well. And, of course, that would definitely involve the loss of Una.
It was for this reason that Charles had up to the present avoided approaching his uncle, but now he felt that if both Witheroe and Bostock turned him down he must take the risk.
Chapter IV
Charles Advocates Matrimony
It was one of those minor coincidences which happen so frequently in life, that almost the first person Charles met after coming to his decision to approach his uncle was the husband of his co-legatee, Elsie Morley.
In a sense it might almost be said that he met his co-legatee, for Elsie and Peter Morley were a devoted couple, and Charles knew that any money Elsie might get would be at her husband’s disposal.
Though at first Peter had made a success of his farm, Charles was aware that in later years profits had dwindled considerably. That was even before the great British agricultural slump had set in. Now, indeed, it was generally believed that Peter was in a bad way. No outward sign of this had, however, so far become apparent, nor had the matter been discussed between the two men.
Charles did not see a great deal of his cousin’s husband. In fact the two men did not ‘pull’. Peter seemed to Charles narrow and misanthropic and concerned with himself and his own affairs alone. Peter, on the other hand, thought of Charles as wanting in seriousness and in sympathetic interest. There had been nothing in the nature of a breach between them; simply they were not over cordial.
On this occasion as Charles left Bostock’s to go back to the works, he turned into his tobacconist’s for some cigarettes and came face to face with Peter, who was just coming out.
‘Hallo, Peter,’ Charles greeted him. ‘Haven’t seen you for a month of Sundays. What’s your best news?’
Peter was looking old and rather worn. He shook his head gloomily. ‘Not too good, Charles. Not any too good. What about yourself?’
‘Oh, struggling along.’ Charles moved on into the shop and Peter turned back with him, evidently ready for a chat. ‘And what’s the trouble?’ Charles went on.
Peter did not reply till Charles was served, then as they left the shop he remarked in a lugubrious voice, ‘I’ve had to get rid of Thompson.’
‘Thompson? Your chauffeur, ploughman, gardener, handy man, and general factotum? Why, I thought Thompson was your best
But Charles had no guarantee that they would go normally. His uncle’s very peculiar temperament had to be reckoned with. The old man was not exactly mean, but he had a very exalted idea of the value of money, and he would certainly not leave his to anyone whom he considered ‘unworthy’. And in Andrew’s philosophy ‘unworthiness’ would be proved by a business failure.
Charles knew, not only from his estimate of his uncle’s character, but from the old man’s actual speeches, that if he let the works down all of the money but a pittance would go to his cousin. Andrew had raised the concern from nothing to a flourishing business, and he would have no mercy on Charles if, receiving it in that state, he proved himself unable to carry it on.
It would be simplicity itself for Charles to go to Andrew and ask him to advance him a small proportion of what would eventually come to him. Under the circumstances it would be a small request and the old man could not possibly feel it. But Charles knew that Andrew would not agree without inquiring into the whole circumstances, and the effect of that on Charles’s prospects would be incalculable.
Therefore everything depended on the way the old gentleman was handled. If Charles could put his case satisfactorily he might get what he wanted without a word. On the other hand, there was a real possibility that the interview might end with not only a refusal, but disinheritance as well. And, of course, that would definitely involve the loss of Una.
It was for this reason that Charles had up to the present avoided approaching his uncle, but now he felt that if both Witheroe and Bostock turned him down he must take the risk.
Chapter IV
Charles Advocates Matrimony
It was one of those minor coincidences which happen so frequently in life, that almost the first person Charles met after coming to his decision to approach his uncle was the husband of his co-legatee, Elsie Morley.
In a sense it might almost be said that he met his co-legatee, for Elsie and Peter Morley were a devoted couple, and Charles knew that any money Elsie might get would be at her husband’s disposal.
Though at first Peter had made a success of his farm, Charles was aware that in later years profits had dwindled considerably. That was even before the great British agricultural slump had set in. Now, indeed, it was generally believed that Peter was in a bad way. No outward sign of this had, however, so far become apparent, nor had the matter been discussed between the two men.
Charles did not see a great deal of his cousin’s husband. In fact the two men did not ‘pull’. Peter seemed to Charles narrow and misanthropic and concerned with himself and his own affairs alone. Peter, on the other hand, thought of Charles as wanting in seriousness and in sympathetic interest. There had been nothing in the nature of a breach between them; simply they were not over cordial.
On this occasion as Charles left Bostock’s to go back to the works, he turned into his tobacconist’s for some cigarettes and came face to face with Peter, who was just coming out.
‘Hallo, Peter,’ Charles greeted him. ‘Haven’t seen you for a month of Sundays. What’s your best news?’
Peter was looking old and rather worn. He shook his head gloomily. ‘Not too good, Charles. Not any too good. What about yourself?’
‘Oh, struggling along.’ Charles moved on into the shop and Peter turned back with him, evidently ready for a chat. ‘And what’s the trouble?’ Charles went on.
Peter did not reply till Charles was served, then as they left the shop he remarked in a lugubrious voice, ‘I’ve had to get rid of Thompson.’
‘Thompson? Your chauffeur, ploughman, gardener, handy man, and general factotum? Why, I thought Thompson was your best
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