The Story of Antony Grace

“Mrs Hallett,” said Miss Carr, in her low, sweet voice; and the flush of pride that had come for a few moments into her face faded out, leaving nothing but resignation there, as she crouched there upon her knees by the invalid’s chair, “you do not know me, or you would not speak to me like this. Don’t turn from me,” she said, taking One of the poor weak woman’s trembling hands.

“Out of my sight, wretch!” she cried. “Your handsome face fascinated him; your pride has killed him! and you have come to triumph in your work.”

“No, no, no,” sobbed Miss Carr in a broken voice, “do not condemn me unheard; I have come to tell him how I love him. Mother, dear mother,” she cried, “be pitiful to me, and join your prayers to mine that he may live.”

Poor weak suffering Mrs Hallett’s face changed; her lips quivered, her menacing hands trembled, and with a low moaning wail she bent down, clasping Miriam to her breast, sobbing aloud as she rocked herself to and fro, while Miriam clung to her, caressing the thin worn face, and drawing herself closer and closer in a tight embrace.

How long this lasted I cannot tell, but it was interrupted by the entrance of the doctor, who came in very softly.

“He is in a very critical state,” he said in answer to the inquiring eyes of all. “Hush, my good woman, you must try and be firm,” he said parenthetically to Mary, who was trying hard to smother her sobs in her apron. “A nurse ought to have no feelings – I mean no sympathies. As I said,” he continued, “our patient is in a very critical state, but he has now sunk into a very restful sleep. There is an access of strength in the pulse that, however, may only be due to excitement, but your visit, ma’am,” he continued to Miss Carr, “seems to have wrought a change – mind,” he added hastily, “I don’t say for the better, but there is a decided change. I will come in again in a couple of hours or so; in the meantime, let some one sit by his bed ready to give him the stimulant the instant he wakes, but sleep may now mean life.”

The doctor went softly away, and as he closed the door, Miss Carr knelt down once more by Mrs Hallett’s chair, holding up her face, and the poor invalid hung back for a moment, and then kissed her passionately.

“God forgive me!” she wailed. “I did not indeed know you, but you have robbed me of my poor boy’s love.”

“No, no,” whispered Miss Carr softly. “No, no, dear mother, we will love you more and more.”

Miriam Carr’s place was by the sick man’s pillow all that afternoon and evening, and right through the weary night. I had been to Westmouth Street to say that she might not return, and at her wish had brought back from Harley Street one of the most eminent men in the profession, who held a consultation with Hallett’s doctor.

The great man endorsed all that had been done, and sent joy into every breast as he said that the crisis was past, but that on no account was the patient to be roused.

And all that night he slept, and on and on till about eight o’clock the next morning, Miss Carr never once leaving his side, or ceasing to watch with sleepless eyes for the slightest change.

I had gone softly into the room the next morning, just as he uttered a low sigh and opened his eyes.

“Ah, Antony,” he said in a low whisper, “I have had such a happy, happy dream! I dreamed that – Oh, God, I thank Thee – it was true!”

For just then there was a slight movement by his pillow, and the next moment his poor weary head was resting upon Miriam’s breast.

Chapter Fifty Nine.

My Inheritance

“Oh, Master Antony, ain’t she a’ angel!” exclaimed Mary.

This was one day during Stephen Hallett’s convalescence, for from the hour of Miriam Carr’s visit, he had steadily begun to mend. He showed no disposition, however, to take advantage of his position, and I was not a spectator of his further interviews with Miss Carr. She looked brighter and happier than I had seen her look for a long time, and by degrees I learned that with his returning strength Hallett had determined upon achieving success before he would ask her to be his wife.

He asked her, so she told me, if he had not her to thank for the assistance he had received, and she had confessed to the little deception, begging him to let her help him in the future; but this he had refused.

“No,” he said; “let me be worthy of you, Miriam. I shall be happier if I try,” and she gave way, after exacting a promise from him that if he really needed her assistance he would speak.

Hallett seemed rapidly to regain his strength now, and appeared to be living a new life as he devoted himself heart and soul to the perfection of his invention.

I believe that I honestly worked as hard, but, in spite of all our efforts, nine months passed away, and still the work was not complete.

It was a pleasant time, though, and I could not help noticing the change that had come over Miriam Carr.

Her sister’s husband had given up his appointment, and was now in town, residing with his young wife in Westmouth Street, where, about once a fortnight, there was a meeting, when Hallett would take Linny, and Tom Girtley, Mr Ruddle, and several of our friends would assemble.

I look back upon it as a very happy time. The old sordid feeling of my wretched early life seemed to have dropped away, now that I was winning my way in the world; and Hallett had told me that I was to share in his success, even as I had shared his labours.

There was no love-making in the ordinary sense of the word, but when Miriam Carr and Hallett met, there would be one long earnest look, a pressure of the hand; and then – they waited. It was his wish, and she reverenced his noble pride.

One evening we were very few at Westmouth Street; only Linny, Tom Girtley, Mr Jabez, Hallett, and myself, when I found that there was a surprise for me.

Tea was over, and I was just about to propose some music, when Tom Girtley took a black bag from under one of the settees, and opening it, drew out a packet of papers.

What was going to happen? I asked myself. Was it a marriage settlement, or some deed of gift, or an arrangement by which Hallett was to be forced to take what was needful to complete his work?

Neither. For at the first words uttered by Tom Girtley, I realised that it was something to do with the half-forgotten papers brought up by Mr Peter Rowle.

“Miss Carr wished me to enter into the business matters here, Grace,” he said; “and I should have talked to you more about it, only we thought it better to elucidate everything first, and to make perfectly sure.”

“But – ” I began.

“Wait a moment,” he said, in regular legal form. “This has been a very intricate affair, and I was obliged to tread very cautiously, so as not to alarm the enemy. Before I had been at work a fortnight, I found that I needed the help of more experienced brains, so I consulted my principals.”

“And ran up a long bill?” I said, laughing.

“Yes, a very long one,” he said, “which Miss Carr, your friend and patroness, has paid.”

“Oh, Miss Carr!” I exclaimed.

“Listen, Antony,” she said, looking at me with a proud and loving look.

“Being sure, then, of our pay,” said Tom Girtley, laughing, “we went to work with the greatest of zeal, making another long bill, and for result – after completely disentangling everything – after finding out, without his knowing it, that the enemy was well worth powder and shot – in short, after making the ground perfectly safe under our feet, I have the pleasure of announcing to you, my dear fellow, that not only is there a sum of five hundred pounds a year belonging to you in your lawful right – ”

“Five hundred!” I ejaculated.

“But the same amount, with interest and compound interest, due to you for the past eight or nine years, and which that scoundrel Blakeford will be obliged to refund.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, as I realised my position.

“The rascal plundered your poor father of goodness knows how much, but of that we can get no trace. This five hundred pounds a-year, though, and the accumulation, is as certainly yours as if you had inherited it at once, and no judge in England can gainsay it. Let me be the first to – ”

“No!” exclaimed Miss Carr, rising; “let me, Antony, my dear boy, be the first to congratulate you, not so much because of the amount, as that it will give you a feeling of independence, and take away that sense of obligation to pay your father’s debts.”

She took my hands in hers, and kissed me, and then, feeling giddy with surprise, I turned away for a moment, but only to falter out something in a disconnected way.

“Peter’s delighted,” cried Mr Jabez; and he took a tremendous pinch of snuff, “I shall be turning out somebody’s long-lost child myself before long, only we are twins, and I shall have to share it.”

“I am very, very glad, Antony,” said Hallett, shaking hands.

“And now, if you like, Grace,” continued Tom Girtley, “we will set to work to-morrow to make that scoundrel Blakeford disgorge; and before a fortnight is passed, if he doesn’t mind, he will be cooling his heels in prison, for I have undeniable proofs of his illegal practices. At the very least he will be struck off the Rolls. It is utter professional ruin.”

I did not speak, for the scene seemed to change to that wretched office once more, and I saw the black, forbidding, threatening face gazing down into mine. I heard the harsh, bitter voice reviling my poor dead father, and a shudder ran through me. The next moment, though, I was dwelling on the soft sweet face of Hetty, and as I recalled the child’s many gentle, loving acts, there was a strange choking sensation at my breast, and I walked into the little drawing-room to be alone.

“Antony, dear,” said a soft, sweet voice, “you seem quite overcome.”