LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1473, 5 November 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

PROCTOR'S CASE.

Bv Mrs. Cashel Hoey

( Continued.) Wo did got to business, of the kind I had been accustomed to transact with him for years, but I felt all the time that this was not the real purpose for which he had summon 3d me—that there was more behind. When the ostensible matters were disposed of, I said something about leaving Mr, Proctor, but ho begged me to remain, and then, with a manifest effort, said : ‘ I wanted to tell you that I had done, some time ago, what you advised, though I have never liked to talk about it. I made my will last winter.’ ’* Indeed, lam glad to hear it. That is a precaution a wise man never neglects.’ ‘ I can’t say 1 liked doing it. You may call it an ignorant prejudice if you like, but. I can’t got over it. However, it is done, and now I want you to look over it for me, and sea that it is all right. I should have asked you to draw it up for me, only that I could not bear to talk about it, and so I drew it up myself.’ He opened a drawer in the writing table at his elbow —the key was attached to his watch-chain- and took out the document. Its contents were very brief, and it was duly attested. As 1 read the lines, which only covered one side of a sheet of foolscap, Mr Proctor observed me with the closest attention ; so much so as to deprive me to some extent of my usual self-possession. I could not help glancing off the paper and up at him ; and in doing so I saw something which made me start. Mr Proctor’s armchair and writing-table were divided from the back of the room by a large screen ; just beyond it, a few feet from the fireplace, there was a door, opening from a passage, by which the room could be approached from the basement storey ; and on the opposite wall, exactly on a line with the doorway, hung an oldfashioned convex mirror. The top of the screen was abont two inches less than the height of the door, which opened away from it, and was of solid mahogany, .very closv fitting and well hung. As my eyes were raised to Mr Proctor’s tace, they caught sight of the fsintest possible movement of this door, seen above the screen top, and, at the snse moment, of the diminutive reilection of a figure in the mirror on my right, which was out of Mr Proctor’s line of sight. The who’e thing passed in an instant, so quickly that it might have been a fancy, but that, keeping my eyes fixed on the door, I observed a second slight movement as it noiselessly closed. ‘lf you will allow mo, I’ll just see that the door on that side is shut,’ I said, and going towards it very quickly, threw it open The passage, which was a long one, and lighted by a large glass-door, giving on a flower garden at the end, was empty, and the garden door appeared to be shut, A little sprig of atepbanotis, lying on the crimson cloth covering of the passage, halfway down, was the only object to be seen. I returned to my place, and resumed the perusal of Mr Proctor’s will ‘ls it, or is it not all right ?’ he asked impatiently. ‘ It is in perfectly legal form ’ I answered slowly, ‘ nothing could he more clear or explicit; but, I confess its provisions surprise me. I should have thought you would have been sure to make an eldest son, as it is called, of Mr Bernard. But that is no business of mine. This’—l handed it to him as I spoke —‘is a perfectly valid will.’ * Had 1 not better let you have a copy of it ?” ‘ Just as you like, There is no occasion, but it is easily clone, .Shall I take it with me ?’ The document was in his hand, and he had half extended it towards ine,_ when he drew it back, and replaced it in the drawer. ‘No,’ he said, ‘not now. I will think over it, and take it to you to-morrow or next clay. I’m g-’ing out if it’s fine ; I am tired of being cooped up here.’ Then, seeing that I intended to go away without any further comment, ho added uneasily : * Yon do not approve of what I have done. There’s no injustice, however; a man has a right to do as likes with his own.’ * Within bounds, yes. It is not much that I don’t approve, as that I don’t understand the motive of your will. However, as I said before, that is not my business.’ ‘Come, come, Forrest, you and I have been friends for too many years for you to come the mere lawyer over me now. I will tell you why I have made a will so unlike what you expected. It is because I have found out, too late, that there are better things in the world than money, and that there is nothing worse than the inordinate love of it, such love of it as Benard’s for instance, that makes him grudge me the few years I have to Jive, auo hato his brother because he is to have a share of the money I made by industry, which he is incapable of. A share ! yes, such a share as Bernard little thinks of shall Richard have, my fine-hearted boy ! I’ve worked hard in my time for what my son grudges me now ; and if it could not buy mo rank and position, that did not matter to me ; I did not want them. At all events, lam not bound as some men are who have those things, and I can do, as 1 said b;fore, as 1 like with my own.’

His face was quite strange to me while he sookc thus ; the passion iu him routed the commonplace, even in his appearance. ‘ Have you considered that this disposition of your property will put ill will between your ?’ ‘Not more than exists already—that is to say, on Bernard’s aide; there’s none on Richard’s, and never will be. I know the boy well. I have been studying him ciosely when he know nothing about it, and I nan trust him. His brother grudges him all I give him already. Am I to make no difference between the son who is the pride of my life, and the son who is its great disappointment ?’ This was a strong argument, and I had none ready to oppose to it, even if I had felt more strongly than I did on the subject. I saw that Mr Proctor was growing excited, and I took leave of him. In the hall I met Mrs Proctor and her s >n Richard ; and while I ws saying a few words to them, Bernard came in by the front entrance, the door being open. ‘ Here are the flowers you wanted,’ he said, addressing his mother ; ‘ the conservatory is almost bare and be banded to Mrs Proctor a bouquet, in which some sprigs of ttephanotis were conspicuous Bernard hardly noticed ray presence, but turned abruptly into the dining-room, and presently Mrs Pro tor and Richard drove away in a bt’le pony carriage, and I also left the house. 1 was very busy for two or three days after this and 1 hardly thought of Mr I Vector and his will ; but in a subsequent leisure moment I recurred to it, and was disposed to believe that, as I bad heard no more of the document, ho had changed bis mind. Its provisions wore very simple; they merely constituted Richard 1 Vector the sole heir to all the property of every k ; nd, of which the testator should be iu possession at the lime of bis death, and charged him with the payrm ut to his brother of an annuity of four hundred pounds, A similar sum bad been previously secured to Mrs Proctor by settlement; and beyond a st’ong, but, as the lestatir ex--1 pi esse I i', “ unnecessary” recommend alien of her to the caro of her son Richard, there was no mention of her. The testator added that in ease an opportunity for the purchase of Hartletop Hal), should aiiso, he wished

his sou Kichard to buy the place. There was not a word of explanation. The man, though strangely ignorant in many ways, was shrewd, and he wrote nothing that could lead to his will being impugned as a malicious act. * Forrest,’ said Mr Nimmo, as he entered my room, with precipitation very unusual to him, ‘here’s bad news from the Proctors. Mr Proctor has had a stroke of apoplexy, and is dying ’ He died that same afternoon, without having recovered consciousness. The first intimation I received of the event, in my business capacity, was a formal letter from Bernard Proctor, in which he inquired whether our office was in possession of any will or other document, which it would be necessary to consult in reference to the arrangements for the funeral. To this we replied that no such document was in our custody. I, of course, knew that the will which I had read did not contain any instructions of the kiud. I heard that Mrs Proctor was in great grief, and that Lady Hartletop and her daughter remained almost entirely with her. Knowing what good news there was in store for pretty Miss Sybilla and her lover, and also for her mother, I was glad to know that they we r c all meriting it by their sympathy with the poor widow, and their gentle,] tendance of her. Next came an invitation to Mr Proctor’s funeral, and an intimation that my presence, and that of Mr Nimmo, were requested after tha interment, for the purpose of arranging pressing business connected with the late event. During the week I did not see either of the young men, but I caught of Miss Sybilla Hartletop, looking properly serious, although very pretty, as she was executing some commissions in the town. The appointed day arrived, and the funeral took place. Without being a popular man, Mr Proctor had gained the respect of the community, and his funeral was largely attended. I saw Bernard Proctor for the first time since his father’s death, standing beside the grave ; and he saw me I traced in his aspect something that was not sorrow, nor the affectation of sorrow, but an intense pre-occupation. At the conclusion of the funeial service he stood quite still, apparently unconscious that it had terminated, until his brother touched him on the arm, when he started and walked away without looking at Kichard. (To he continued.)