The Story of Antony Grace

“I shall be better directly,” I said. “But, dear Miss Carr, this must be stopped. You all meant so kindly by me, but if proceedings have begun they must not go on.”

“They have commenced, Antony, by my wishes,” she said in a low voice, as she took my hand. “Antony, my dear boy, you have always seemed to me like a younger brother whom it was my duty to protect, and I have felt quite a bitter hatred against this man for the wrongs he did you.”

“Not wrongs,” I said. “It was through him I came to know you and Hallett.”

“Yes, but he has wronged you cruelly.”

“Miss Carr,” I said – “let me call you sister.”

“Always,” she whispered, as she laid her hand upon my shoulder. “This would be ruin and disgrace to Mr Blakeford?”

“Which he richly deserves,” she said warmly.

“And it would be ruin and disgrace – ”

“Yes,” she said, for I had stopped – “ruin and disgrace – ”

“To his poor child?”

“Hetty?”

“Yes: to the tender-hearted little girl whose bright face is the only sunny spot in that time of sorrow. I don’t know,” I said passionately, “I may be wrong. I may see her now, and the fancy be driven away, but I feel as if I love little Hetty Blakeford with all my heart.”

There was silence in the little drawing-room, where all was in shadow, while in the larger well-lighted room the others talked in a low voice, and as I glanced there once, and saw Linny Hallett gazing up in Tom Girtley’s face, I wondered whether Hetty Blakeford would ever look as tenderly in mine.

It was a passing fancy, and I was brought back to the present by feeling Miss Carr’s warm lips brush my cheek.

“We will wait and see, Antony,” she said gravely. “Miss Blakeford’s feelings must be spared.”

Chapter Sixty.

At Last

The work of two years was complete, and I stood by Hallett as he watched the trial of the machine where it was set up at our great factory; and though we tried hard to find weak points, we were compelled to declare that it was as near perfection as human hands could make it.

Hallett was very pale and quiet; he displayed no excitement, no joy; and I felt rather disappointed at his apathy.

“Well,” said Mr Jabez, aside to me, “if I didn’t know that the poor fellow was ill, I should have said that he didn’t care that! whether the thing succeeded or not.”

That! was the snap of the fingers which followed the taking of a pinch of snuff.

But he was ill. Poor fellow! He never seemed to have recovered from the shock his system had received during his late illness; and, though he had rallied and seemed strong and well, there had been times when he would turn ghastly white, and startle me by his looks.

I mentioned it more than once to Miss Carr, who begged him to see a physician; but he said it was nothing, and with a smile he used to tell her that the perfection of the machine and a change would completely restore him to health.

This we both believed; – and I can honestly say that I strove with all my might to inspire the workmen with the spirit in which I toiled.

And now the new machine was finished. All that remained was to have it removed to Mr Ruddle’s place for a public inspection of its merits.

There had been something so depressing in the fate of the lost machine that I strenuously advised that the trial should be made where the present one now stood, but Hallett was averse to it.

“No, Antony,” he said quietly; “I am neither vindictive nor spiteful, and doubtless that man feels that he has good cause for hating me. Men of his stamp always blame others for their own failings. I am, I say, neither vindictive nor spiteful, but, feeling as I do, that he was the cause of our last breakdown, I am determined that the scene of our last failure shall also be the scene of our triumph.”

This silenced opposition, and the workpeople were soon at work, taking down and re-setting up Hallett’s masterpiece at the old place.

For my part, I was regularly worn out. I had worked very hard, and felt as if I was so deeply interested in the success that I must make it this time a foregone conclusion. Hallett’s health worried me a great, deal too, and in addition to this, I was in more trouble than I can very well express about my affair with Mr Blakeford.

My objections to the proceedings had come too late. As Tom Girtley said, it was quite within our province to withdraw, and leave him in possession of his ill-gotten gains, but the attack upon his character as a solicitor was one which he was bound to disprove – in other words, he could not afford to let it drop.

“And what is he doing?” I asked.

“Riding the high horse,” said Tom. “Tony, my boy, I think you are wrong.”

“If Linny’s father were alive, and he had injured you, Tom, would you seize the first opportunity to ruin him?”

“Am I to answer that question as solicitor to client, or between friends?”

“As you like, only let’s have the truth.”

Tom Girtley rubbed one of his ears, and a dry comical look came into his countenance.

“Well, Tony, old fellow – ” he began.

“Oh, come,” I cried, “that form of address is not legal, so it is between friends.”

“Just as you like,” he said, laughing. “Well, Tony, old fellow, under the circumstances, I should put the screw on, especially if I knew him to be a scoundrel. First and foremost, I should have his consent to our marriage; secondly, I should inspect his money affairs, and if they were in a satisfactory state, I should make the sneak disgorge.”

“But you would not ruin him, and blast his character, for his child’s sake?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then, suppose the young lady did not care for you?”

“Then I should fire at the old man hotter and stronger, so us to ease my wounded feelings.”

“No, you wouldn’t, Tom,” I said; “so don’t humbug.”

“You’re a rum fellow, Tony,” he retorted, “and ’pon my word it’s precious disappointing. Here’s old Peter Rowle been hoarding this up for his ‘dear boy,’ as the smoky old cockolorum calls you, and old Jabez in a high state of delight too. Then Miss Carr has spent no end over it, and thought she had secured you your rights, and now you kick us all over.”

“I can’t help it, Tom,” I said. “I feel as if I should be a brute if I went on.”

“I say, Tony,” he said, after a pause, “how long is it since you have seen the young lady?”

“Nine years.”

“What do you say to a run down to Rowford?”

“Run down?” I said eagerly. “No, I could not. I am too busy over the preparations for the trial.”