Chapter III
_Hildebrand of the "Hundred"_
It must have been close to an hour before Mr. Eldon joined us; evidentlyhis papers had been in more than usual confusion. A few minutes laterthe ladies appeared, together with a dozen or more negro servantsconnected in various capacities with the estate. John Thaneford jerkedhimself to his feet in apparently unwilling acknowledgment of the socialamenities; his father, sitting impassively upright in an immense leatherchair, looked more than ever like some gigantic, impossible infant. MissGraeme went over and spoke a few words to him, but he barely nodded inreply; Buddha himself could not have improved upon that colossal,immemorial serenity. I had hoped that Betty would say something to me,but she contented herself with the briefest of smiles in my direction. Apretty girl? Why, yes, I suppose she would be so considered, with herslim, graceful figure and that pronounced type of Irish beauty--darkhair, eyebrows, and eyelashes; but the eyes themselves of the clearestcerulean blue, rubbed in with a smutty finger, as the saying goes. Yetsomehow one never thought over-much of how fair Betty Graeme might be tolook upon; perhaps it was just her perfect and altogether adorablefemininity which made her different from other women; she entered theroom, and forthwith all eyes were inevitably focused upon her; when thegods arrive the half-gods go, as Mr. Emerson acutely remarked. Aphenomenon then, but I can't account for it and don't intend to try.Personality, magnetism--but these are just words, and she was BettyGraeme. A line from an old, half forgotten mediaeval romance came back tome as I gazed upon her: "By God's Rood! that is the one maid in theworld for me."
A revelation then, but love at first sight is by no means so common athing as youth is apt to suppose. Only when it does come there can neverbe any doubt about it. I drew in my breath sharply, and the tense thrillseemed to permeate every molecule and atom of my being. Then came thereactionary thought: "But what can she be thinking of me?" and myexalted spirits evaporated with startling suddenness. The very warmthand kindliness with which she had at first greeted me only emphasizedthe immensity of the distance that divided us. The goddess maycondescend to smile upon a mortal, but that does not imply that the poorman is safely on the Mount Olympus list. Just then I happened to glanceup and caught the look bent upon her from under John Thaneford'sbeetling eyebrows. That boor, that uncouth, rustic bully! And yet he wasof her class; they must have been playmates from childhood, theThaneford acres marched with the Hildebrand holdings--why not? and myheart sank to my boots. Then I realized that I was on the point ofmaking a pretty considerable fool of myself, and I resumed my seat; Mr.Eldon went through the usual preliminary hemmings and harrings, and thecompany prepared itself to listen.
The crisp sheet of parchment crackled in the lawyer's hands, and now hewas reading, in an even monotone, the last will and testament of FrancisGraeme.
A few minor legacies to the servants and dependents, the bequest of athousand dollars for the endowment of S. Saviour's parish, and then: "ToLysbeth Effingham Graeme, my dearly beloved daughter by adoption, I giveand bequeath the sum of one hundred thousand dollars, invested in firstmortgage bonds of the Southern Railway, the silver dinner servicebearing the Effingham coat-of-arms, and the four portraits of the Graemefamily now hanging in the long gallery at 'Hildebrand Hundred'; theinheritance tax to be paid from the residue of my personal estate. Ifurthermore bequeath to the said Lysbeth Graeme my gold hunting-casewatch, with the accompanying fob and seals, together with such articlesof _vertu_, not specifically enumerated in the annexed inventory ofHildebrand goods and chattels, as she may select."
The speaker paused and cleared his throat; from some far corner of thesilent room came a half suppressed exhalation, the physical reactionfrom tensely held emotion; I looked over at the elder Thaneford, andnoted wonderingly that he had risen from his chair and that theextraordinary pink-and-white of his complexion had changed to a dull,minatory brick-red; he seemed about to speak, and I held my breath.Then, as Mr. Eldon indicated that he was on the point of resuming, theold man yielded to the insistent pressure of his son's hand, and sankback in his seat.
I suppose that I must have listened physically to that next paragraph,but my mind was slow, deadly slow, in comprehending the full measure ofits import; then, suddenly, I understood.
To dispense with legal phraseology, the testator now directed that theundivided estate of "Hildebrand Hundred," together with the remainder ofall personal property, should go to his friend and near kinsman, HughHildebrand, of Philadelphia, to be held by him and his heirs forever.
Well, you remember that I had been expecting the bequest of a small sumof money for the purchase of some such trifle as a ring or a stick-pin;and it took me a full minute to realize that this incredible thing hadactually happened: a man whom I had seen but once in my life had made mehis heir, and I was now the master of a great estate and a personage toboot; I sat motionless, trying to sort out my ideas into some degree oforder and sequence.
Fielding Thaneford had found his feet again; he must, in his prime, havebeen a big and powerful man, for he still overtopped his stalwart son byfull two inches of height. He looked particularly at Mr. Eldon, but witha commanding sweep of his arm he seemed to draw the entire company intothe circle of his attention; he dominated us all by the sheer weight ofhis will; he opened his mouth to speak, and we inclined our ears tolisten.
But the words trembling upon his lips never found utterance, for now aterrible thing had happened and Fielding Thaneford fell to the floor andlay there, his face twitching strangely. A paralytic stroke, of course,but one must be an eye witness, see the victim actually struck down, torealize the full import of such a tragedy. One moment the man standserect and serene in the unquestioned possession of all his godlikequalities of mind and body; the next, he lies as inert and insensate asan ancient tree trunk riven and felled by the lightning stroke. FieldingThaneford was an old man--nearly ninety, as I was later on to learn--butso well preserved that it was difficult to realize that the hour of hispassing had struck. And the determining factor in this final equation isso often comparatively insignificant. Here is a human being, an integralmember of the visible universe, by right enumerated in every taking ofthe cosmic census: somewhere a minute blood vessel fails to perform itsfunction, and the number is instantly replaced by a cipher.
When the family physician, Doctor Marcy, finally arrived he directedthat the sick man should be put to bed at "Hildebrand Hundred"; in theabsence of a regular ambulance it would be unwise to try and get himhome. It was Betty who came and told me of the doctor's decision.
"You will have to make formal tender of your hospitality to JohnThaneford," she said.
"I!" I gazed at her in honest stupefaction.
"You are Hildebrand of the 'Hundred,'" she reminded me, her liptrembling ever so slightly as she spoke.
"If you wish it so," I said humbly, and thereupon I went upstairs andknocked at the door of the sick room. John Thaneford opened it, andstood glowering as I delivered my message. I dare say I expressed myselfin bungling terms, but my awkwardness was easily outpaced by hisungraciousness; he intimated curtly that neither he nor his father wouldbe dependent upon my hospitality an instant longer than might beabsolutely necessary. I proceeded to fume inwardly as I walked away, butmy irritation vanished the moment I rejoined Betty; somehow one couldnot cherish mere pettiness in her serene presence.
"Can you spare me a few moments?" I asked, and with an assenting nod sheled the way back to the now deserted library. The westering sun waspouring through the great windows, and the purple radiance from thegigantic bunch of grapes borne by the Israelitish spies lay in a crimsonpool on the oaken floor; involuntarily I drew aside, unwilling to stepupon the apparently ensanguined spot. Betty divined instantly mymovement of repulsion. "It does suggest that very thing," she said, witha little shiver. "Come over here by the chess table. Father and I wereaccustomed to play every night; he used to wonder what sort of game youwould give him when you came on that long expected visit."
"Sorry, b
ut I'm not a chess player. However, that doesn't matter now,and I've brought you here to say that I don't propose to take advantageof that will. Your father couldn't have meant it; it's your property andyou should have it. The whole thing is absurd; he couldn't have realizedwhat he was doing."
"You met my father at least for that one time," she retorted. "Did hegive you any reason to think that he didn't know his own mind, or thatthe time would ever come when he wouldn't know it?"
I was silent. Certainly, infirmity of purpose was the very last thing tobe predicated of the more than ordinarily forceful personality of thelate Francis Graeme. But I am somewhat stubborn myself. "I don't care,"I persisted. "'Hildebrand Hundred' isn't mine, and I won't take it."
Miss Graeme looked at me. "You know the will refers to me as only hisdaughter by adoption," she said, "and I could have no right to inheritthe 'Hundred.' That was always clearly understood between us. He didleave me all that he could call his own."
"I don't see how that matters. The estate belonged legally to Mr.Graeme."
"Merely because Mr. Richard Hildebrand chose to ignore the claims of theheir-at-law. And a blood relation at that."
"Meaning Mr. John Thaneford, I suppose."
Miss Graeme looked surprised. "Has Mr. Eldon been acquainting you withthe particulars of the family history?" she asked.
"I first learned of the actual facts from Mr. John Thaneford himself."
Now there was something more than surprise in my Cousin Betty'sdemeanor; she seemed agitated, even uneasy.
"Apparently," I went on, "both the Thanefords resent what they considerto be an alienation of the estate. I don't believe they will feel theoriginal wrong has been righted by my becoming the heir, even though Ihappen to be the only titular Hildebrand among us all."
"But this is Maryland, you know, and many of the old English customs arestill in force. Not legally, of course, but practically."
"Such as primogeniture and the continuous entail," I suggested.
"Yes. But only among the old families, you understand. It's a purelysentimental feeling."
"How long have the Hildebrands been at the 'Hundred'?"
"There was Lawrence Hildebrand----"
"My great-great-great-grandfather," I interjected.
"Yes. Well, he received a patent from the Crown. It must have been earlyin the seventeenth century when the second Charles Stuart was givingaway principalities with both hands. There has been a Hildebrand asmaster ever since, except for my poor father's brief reign."
"Brief?"
"Richard Hildebrand died in June, 1918. That is just a year ago."
"My father was proud of the old family connection," continued MissGraeme, after a little pause, "and at one time he even contemplatedchanging his patronymic, and so becoming actually Hildebrand of the'Hundred,' But he never quite got to the legal process, or perhaps hethen heard of you and that served to divert the current of his thoughts.When was it that he hunted you up in Philadelphia?"
"It was in March."
"He liked you certainly, and he was most anxious to have you visit us atthe 'Hundred.' You were to come in the early part of June, I think."
"Yes, but that was the week of my college reunion, and I had to decline.I wrote that I would accept for a later date--any time in July."
"I remember his being very much disappointed. But he must have made uphis mind finally about that time, for the will is dated May 20, a littleover a month ago. I dare say he was anxious to tell you of his wishes inthe matter."
"It's rather extraordinary, you'll admit. A man whom I had met butonce!"
"Well if one belongs at all, you know it. I think I can guess what wasin his mind; something like this: 'Hildebrand Hundred' ought to go backto the direct heirs, and it was a choice between you and John Thaneford.Only you were you, and a real Hildebrand besides. So there you are."
"You mean that I must accept, or let everything go to the youngerThaneford?"
"I'm not a lawyer, but I think it would be that way. He is related byblood, and as my father had no children of his own there are no directheirs."
A sudden thought presented itself. "How would _you_ like it settled?" Iasked, audaciously.
"I think that you ought to carry out my father's wishes," she answered,with a simplicity that made me a little ashamed of my disingenuousattempt to inject a purely personal note into the discussion; for themoment I had quite forgotten that this was a house of mourning. MissGraeme had risen, and I realized that the interview was at an end.
"You will want to go to your room," she said, as we walked out to theentrance hall, our footsteps resounding hollowly upon its marblepavement of alternate white-and-black chequers. She clapped her hands,and a young negro servant presented himself. "Mr. Hildebrand is to havethe red room, Marcus," explained Miss Graeme. "Dinner is at seven," shewent on. "You won't mind if Eunice and I don't come down. You can haveyour own meal served in your room, if you prefer."
"But there is Mr. Thaneford," I suggested. "Also Doctor Marcy."
My cousin Betty frowned. "I suppose they are our guests," she admitted,and I experienced an odd thrill at the feeling of intimacy expressed inthat little word, "our."
"I think I had better do the honors in the dining room," I went on.
"I wish you would, then." She stopped at the lower step of thestaircase, and held out her hand. "Good night, Cousin Hugh."
Now it is possible to shake hands with hundreds and thousands of people,and find it a perfectly uninteresting operation; it may even be apainful one if you happen to be President of the Republic or the hero ofthe passing hour. But now and then someone comes along whose hand seemsto fit, perhaps too fatally well, and that is different. And so whenBetty Graeme slid her slim white hand into mine I knew instantly that itbelonged there, always had belonged, and always would. An interestingfact, this, in the natural history of selection, but it has to berecognized by both parties to the transaction before it can be set downas an absolute and accepted truth. It suddenly occurred to me that myCousin Betty was entirely too frank and cousinly in her behavior tojustify any jumping at conclusions. I was naturally exhilarated by theastonishing change in my material fortunes, while she was in sorrow, asorrow whose full realization still lay before her. I must be patientand wait. Wherefore I returned my Cousin Betty's parting word in kind,and followed Marcus to the red room, where, left alone, I resorted tothe childish trick of pinching myself; could this really be I?