Henry Ford - "My Life and Work"

Eleanor Hodgman Porter - "Oh, Money! Money!"

Jean de La Fontaine - "The Tales and Novels, v15: The Mandrake & The Rhemese"

Karl May - "Mein Leben und Streben"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: Mr. Hogarth\'s Will

C >> Catherine Helen Spence(1825 1910) >> Mr. Hogarth\'s Will



This etext was produced by Col Choat colchoat@yahoo.com.au




This etext was produced by Col Choat colchoat@yahoo.com.au





CONTENTS



Volume I.

Chapter I. The Will
Chapter II. Disappointment and Hope; Prose and Poetry
Chapter III. Closed Doors
Chapter IV. An Evening At Mr. Rennie's
Chapter V. A Humble Friend
Chapter VI. A Bundle Of Old Letters
Chapter VII. Up And Down
Chapter VIII. Peggy Walker's Adventures
Chapter IX. Peggy Walker's Adventures
Chapter X. Elsie's Literary Venture, and Its Success
Chapter XI. Some Grave Talk In Gay Company
Chapter XII. Mr. Brandon In Edinburgh
Chapter XIII. Peggy's Visitors, And Francis' Resolution
Chapter XIV Good News For Francis


Volume II.

Chapter I. How Francis Received The Good News
Chapter II. Jane's Situation
Chapter III. Elsie's Situation
Chapter IV. Elsie Refuses An Excellent Offer
Chapter V. Elsie Accepts Of A New Situation
Chapter VI. A Letter From Australia For Francis, Which Causes Surprise
In An Unexpected Quarter
Chapter VII. Harriett Phillips Does A Little Bit Of Shopping,
Which Is Somewhat Fatal To Her Projects
Chapter VIII. Francis Makes A Favourable Impression On Harriett Phillips
Chapter IX. A Bonnet Gained And A Lover Lost
Chapter X. A Seance
Chapter XI. Spiritualism, Love, And Politics
Chapter XII. Chiefly Political
Chapter XIII. Good-Bye
Chapter XIV. Francis Hogarth's Canvass And Election
Chapter XV. Mrs. Phillips's First Grief
Chapter XVI. Another Good-Bye


Volume III.

Chapter I. Mr. Brandon's Second Proposal To Elsie, And Its Fate
Chapter II. Mrs. Peck
Chapter III. Raising The Wind
Chapter IV. Miss Phillips Meets With A Congenial Spirit In Victoria
Chapter V. Dr. Grant Prosecutes His Suit With Caution And Success,
And Brandon Finds His Love-Making All To Do Over Again
Chapter VI. Mrs. Peck's Progress
Chapter VII. Business Interrupted By Love
Chapter VIII. Mrs. Phillips Is Relieved
Chapter IX. Mrs. Peck's Communication
Chapter X. Mrs. Peck's Disappointment
Chapter XI. Elsie Melville's Letter
Chapter XII. What Can Be Made Of It?
Chapter XIII. Not So Bad, After All
Chapter XIV. Meeting
Epilogue





Volume I.




Chapter I.



The Will


In a large and handsomely-furnished room of a somewhat old-fashioned
house, situated in a rural district in the south of Scotland, was
assembled, one day in the early summer of 185-, a small group in deep
mourning.

Mr. Hogarth, of Cross Hall, had been taken suddenly ill a few days
previously, and had never recovered consciousness so far as to be able
to speak, though he had apparently known those who were about him, and
especially the two orphan nieces whom he had brought up as his
daughters. He had no other near relations whom any one knew of, and had
never been known to regret that the name of Hogarth, of Cross
Hall, was likely to become extinct. He had the reputation of being the
most eccentric man in the country, and was thought to be the most
inconsistent.

With the highest opinion possible of women, and the greatest pleasure
in their society, he had never married; and with the greatest affection
for his nieces, and the greatest theoretical confidence in them, he had
hedged them about with countless laws and restrictions, and had
educated them in a way quite different from the training of young
ladies of their rank and prospects. He had succeeded two childless
elder brothers in the possession of the estate; and Jane and Alice
Melville were the only children of his only sister, who had been dead
for fifteen years.

The funeral had just taken place, and the two girls had been summoned
into the drawing-room to hear the will read by Mr. MacFarlane, the
Edinburgh lawyer, who had drawn it out. They found in the room Mr.
Baird, their uncle's medical attendant, and a stranger whom they
had never seen before--a tall, grave-looking man of about thirty-four,
whose mourning was new, and who showed a deep interest in what was
going on.

Both the man of law and the man of medicine looked nervous and
embarrassed, and delayed proceeding to business as long as they
possibly could; fumbling with knots of red tape; opening the closed
curtains to admit a little more light, and then closing them again, as
if the light was too strong; so that the sisters had time to look at
the stranger, and to wonder who he was and what his business could be
there. He also seemed to be taking notes of the young ladies in a
quiet, timid manner.

At last the will was opened, and after the usual preamble, the lawyer's
voice seemed to break a little. He cleared his throat, and continued in
a lower tone----

"As I have come to the conclusion that the minds of men and women are
radically the same, and as I believe that if the latter are trained in
the same way as the former they will be equally capable of making
their own way in the world, I have acted upon this principle in the
education of my two beloved nieces, Jane and Alice Melville, the only
surviving children of my sister Mary Hogarth; and as I foresee that if
I were to leave them wealthy heiresses my purpose would be completely
thwarted, by Jane losing her independent character, and Alice sinking
into a confirmed invalid, and by both being to a dead certainty picked
up by needy spendthrifts, who will waste their fortunes and break their
hearts, as their father, George Melville, served my poor foolish
sister, I hereby convey and dispone all my property, whatsoever and
wheresoever, heritable and moveable, to Francis Ormistown, otherwise
Hogarth, at present head clerk in the Bank of Scotland, who is my son
by a private irregular marriage contracted with Elizabeth Ormistown, on
the ninth day of July, 18--, and who is my heir-at-law, though he would
find it difficult to prove his claim, as he knows nothing of the
relation between us, and as the only party besides myself
cognizant of the marriage dares not come forward to prove it, but whose
progress I have watched with interest, who has made an honourable
position for himself, without any assistance from me beyond a good
education, who has served faithfully, and who is likely to rule
uprightly, who has raised himself from nameless poverty, and whom,
therefore, I judge to be worthy of wealth and honour: Provided always,
that he shall pay to Jane and Alice Melville, my beloved nieces
aforesaid, the sum of twelve pounds a year each, in quarterly payments
in advance, for three years following my decease, when such payments
shall cease, as by that time I believe they will be independent in
circumstances: Provided also that he shall give to the said Jane and
Alice Melville, the furniture and personal effects belonging to them,
as mentioned more particularly in the schedule marked A, appended to
this instrument; and that he shall give to the said Jane and Alice
Melville no further assistance either in money or in money's worth,
directly or indirectly, whatsoever: Also providing that the said
Francis Ormistown, otherwise Hogarth, shall not marry either of his
cousins; the marriage of such near relations being mischievous and
improper.

"In case of any of these provisions being disregarded by the said
Francis Ormistown, otherwise Hogarth, all my heritable and moveable
property shall be divided among certain benevolent institutions, in the
order and manner set forth in the schedule marked with the letter B.

"All these provisions I have made, as being the best for my surviving
relatives; and I believe they will eventually acknowledge them to be
such."

It would be hard to say which of the three parties interested, felt
most astonishment at this extraordinary will. Jane Melville stood rigid
and silent, with her face flushed and her eyes filled with tears, which
she would not let fall. Alice's face lost all colour, and she seemed
ready to faint. But the greatest excitement was shown by the fortunate
legatee. He shook from head to foot, steadying himself on the
table--looked from the two girls to the two gentlemen with bewildered
eyes--and said at last with difficulty, in a low, soft, tremulous
voice----

"Was Mr. Hogarth in his senses when he made this will?"

"A little excited, but indisputably in full possession of his senses,
strange as the will appears," said Mr. MacFarlane, the lawyer; "and Mr.
Baird will corroborate my opinion."

Mr. Baird bowed his head affirmatively. "Quite true--his head was
quite clear at the time. The will was made six weeks ago, and you, Miss
Melville, know how well he was then. Very grieved, indeed--most
inconceivable conduct--cruel--inconsiderate. I feel deeply for your
disappointment. Try not to give way, Miss Alice--or perhaps you had
better give way, it may relieve you. Mr. MacFarlane tells me that he
remonstrated with Mr. Hogarth. Most painful duty--must obey
instructions, of course. Your uncle seemed like adamant. I pity you
with all my heart."

"And so do I, with all my heart," said Mr. MacFarlane.

"And does no one pity me?" said the low voice of the heir to all; but
it was unheeded, for Alice had fainted. Her sister and Mr. Baird laid
her on the sofa, and applied the usual restoratives.

Mr. MacFarlane began to speak in an undertone, to the new master, of
the extent and value of the property he had thus suddenly come into
possession of, and congratulated him rather stiffly on the turn of
fortune that had raised him from a life of labour and comparative
poverty to ease and affluence; but his embarrassment was nothing
compared to that of the man whom he addressed. Francis Hogarth looked
round the spacious room, and out of the window to the pleasant
shrubbery and smooth-shaven lawn, and shuddered when he thought of the
two young cousins, brought up apparently in the lap of luxury, who were
to be turned out upon the world with 12 pounds a-year for three years. The
elder sister seemed to have a vigorous and robust constitution,
but the younger looked delicate. He saw, in his mind's eye, two
governesses, dragging out a weary and monotonous existence, far from
each other, while he, possessed of superabundance, was debarred from
helping them.

He advanced timidly to the sofa. Alice, who had recovered
consciousness, covered her face with both her hands, and sobbed aloud.
Jane turned towards him a glance, not of reproach, but of pity. He felt
it, and took her hand.

"Believe me, Miss Melville, no one can regret this extraordinary will
as I do. I will overturn it, if I possibly can."

"You cannot," said Jane; "it is quite in keeping with all my uncle's
ideas--quite consistent with all he has told us over and over again.
He had many strange notions, but he was generally in the right, and it
MAY prove to be so now." The sigh that accompanied these words told how
faint her hopes were.

"It has been positive unkindness to bring you up as he did, and now to
throw you upon the world. My beginning was different. How could
he expect the same success for you--women, too?"

"And are women so inferior, then? It was my uncle's cherished belief
that they were not. He said he never saw a woman take up man's work
without succeeding in it. I must try to show that I will be no
exception. He was not unkind to take us on our mother's death from a
careless and unprincipled father, to bring us into a quiet and happy
home, to educate us to the best of his judgment, to be always kind,
always reasonable. Ah, no, my dear uncle, though this seems very hard,
it was not meant for unkindness!"

"It is cruel, cruel," said Alice. "He must have been mad. What will
become of us? What will become of us?"

At this burst of despair from Alice, Jane's courage gave way, and the
heavy tears rolled down her cheeks. "Elsie, darling, at the worst we
can only die, and we are not afraid of death. But no, we shall live to
conquer all this yet."

"You cannot as yet lay any plan," said Mr. Macfarlane. "Mr.
Ormistown--Mr. Hogarth, I should say--is in no hurry to take
possession. You can have a month to look about you, and there is no
saying what may turn up in a month."

"Certainly," said the new cousin; "I am sure I should be most happy to
give the young ladies accommodation in this large house for as long as
they please, if that is not forbidden by the will."

"A permanent residence is clearly forbidden; for no assistance, beyond
the small money payment specified, Can be offered or accepted; but I
think a month to remain and to collect all their wardrobe and personal
property may be permitted."

"I ought to return to the bank, and work till they find a substitute,
and will leave my cousins the undisturbed possession of Cross Hall for
a month. In the meantime, I feel as if my presence must be a painful
intrusion. I must leave you."

"Perhaps," said Jane, "though you cannot give us money, you may
be able to give us advice. You are going to Edinburgh; you may see or
hear of something we could do."

"I should be most happy to do so. What line of life should you like to
enter on?"

"Anything we could make a living by."

"Then I suppose a governess's situation?"

"I might teach boys, but I have not learned what would qualify me to
instruct girls. But I do thoroughly understand bookkeeping, write a
good hand, have gone through Euclid, and know as much of the classics
as nine out of ten young men in my rank of life. But my uncle cared
very little for the classics. I know a good deal of chemistry and
mineralogy, but uncle was most pleased with my bookkeeping. How did you
get on when you began to work for yourself?"

"I entered the bank as a junior clerk, at the age of sixteen, and got
30 pounds for the first two years. An unknown friend--I know now who he
was--who had paid for my education and all other expenses
previously, sent me 12 pounds a year for three years to help out my
earnings."

"And you could live on that?" said Jane.

"I did live on it somehow," said Francis. "My coats were very
threadbare and my meals scanty, but I weathered these three years, and
then I got a good step, and crept up gradually. I have been now in this
same bank for seventeen years, and am at present in the receipt of 250
pounds a year, thinking myself rich and fortunate;--now I am rich and
unfortunate. Why did not my father leave me to the career I had made
for myself, and you to the inheritance you had been brought up to
expect?"

"Thirty pounds a year to begin with," said Jane, half aloud; "250 pounds
after seventeen years' work. Very sweet--all one's own earning. I am
not afraid, only let Elsie keep up heart."

"I cannot," said Elsie; "I'll be dead long before seventeen years are
over."

"I will take good care of you," said Jane.

"How are you to take good care either of yourself or of me if we
are starving?" said Elsie, with a fresh burst of tears.

"We will do our best. So you are going, Mr. Hogarth. Write to me if you
can hear of anything for me. I will be much obliged to you. Good-bye."

Jane shook hands with her cousin kindly, and soon after Mr. MacFarlane,
and Mr. Baird also, withdrew, leaving the sisters alone. Elsie wept
till she was completely exhausted, while her sister sat at the table
with pen and ink and paper before her, but writing nothing.

After a while Elsie started up from the sofa. "Jane," said she, "if we
were to marry, it would put an end to all this perplexity. It was
strange that uncle put in the clause forbidding us to marry that man.
Neither of us would demean ourselves so much, but uncle disliked the
marriage of near relatives. How strange that so little is said about
the mother. I could not look at him, but you did. Is he like his
father? My uncle was a very handsome man; I fancy this man is plain."

"I see little or no likeness to my uncle, but he is by no means
plain-looking."

"Will he get into society? Do they consider such people legitimate?"

"The marriage was irregular, but legal," said Jane. "I see now the
cause my uncle had to dislike the Scotch marriage law. He must have
been made very miserable from some unguarded words spoken or written;
but this does not prevent his son taking the position of a legitimate
heir. He is quiet and unassuming, and will take a very good place in
society."

"It was well," said Elsie, with a faint laugh, "that this clause was
inserted, for you seem to be in some danger."

"Not at all; but we were thrown together in very extraordinary
circumstances, and I could not help feeling for his position as he felt
for ours. Nor could I help asking for advice from him. I agree with my
uncle about cousins. He was right there, as he always used to be. At
least, he brought me up to think like him, and I can scarcely believe
that what he has now done is wrong."

"But, Jane, setting this cousin out of the way, what do you
think of William Dalzell?"

"I was just thinking of him when you spoke," said Jane, resolutely.

"Uncle must have had him in his mind when he mentioned fortune-hunters
in his will, for he never seemed to like him coming here so often; and
just six weeks ago I had been going out riding with him every day. You
said you were not well, and would not accompany us. I suppose I was
giving him what people consider a great deal of encouragement. If my
uncle had said plainly that he disapproved of the intimacy, I wonder if
I would have given it up? Perhaps not--one does not like to be
dictated to. It appeared to myself so strange that he should prefer me
to you. And now I recollect that my uncle must have paid his last visit
to Edinburgh just before he made his will; and there he would see this
young man filling his place in the world so well, while I was behaving
so foolishly. The contrast must have struck him, and he certainly has
put an end to everything between Mr. Dalzell and myself."

"Oh, Jane, he is no fortune-hunter; this will make no change. If
you marry him you must take me home with you, and tell him it is what I
deserve for standing his friend so well."

"My dearest Elsie, you have talked a great deal about Mr. Dalzell, and
I have rather foolishly listened to it, but that must be stopped now. I
know he is poor; he thought to better himself by a wealthy marriage;
and perhaps if I had been left now with 20,000 pounds, with nothing to do
and nothing to think of, his agreeable qualities----"

"Well, you own he has agreeable qualities."

"Yes; I have always owned it--they might have induced me to marry him;
and you, as the possessor of other 20,000 pounds, would have been a most
welcome inmate of our house until you chose for yourself your own home.
But now, Elsie, I know William Dalzell is not the man to encumber
himself with a penniless wife and a penniless sister-in-law."

"He is not mercenary--I am sure he is not," said Elsie with animation.

"Perhaps he is not positively mercenary; but after all am I
worthy of the sacrifice? Look at me, Elsie; even your sisterly
partiality cannot make a beauty of me. My turn of mind is not suited to
his; I have always felt that; and, above all, I am not very fond of
him."

"Not very!"

"No; I have liked him a good deal; but now in this crisis, when
we have to begin life in earnest--when I am puzzling myself how to
find food and clothing and shelter for you and me--I feel as if Mr.
Dalzell's past attentions belonged to another world altogether, so I am
putting them aside completely."

"Ah! but Jane, only listen to me. If he were to come now, and lay
himself and all that he has at your feet, that would prove that he was
no fortune-hunter, but a real true lover, as I always believed him to
be."

"He will not do it," said Jane, quietly; and she now began to make some
memoranda.

"We have no ornaments, Elsie," said she, sadly.

"No; I never heard you regret the want of them before."

"I should like to have something to sell. Emilia Chalmers has 200 pounds
worth of jewellery, most of it left by her aunt. If we had so much, we
might convert it into money, and might stock a little shop."

"A shop!" said Elsie, shuddering.

"Why not? One is more independent keeping a shop than in a governess's
situation, and there my business knowledge would be of use. It is wrong
and absurd to have a terror of a shop."

"I cannot help feeling a great repugnance to shopkeeping."

"Then would you rather be a governess, supposing you were capable?"

"Oh, Jane, that is such a hard life. I should be separated from you;
and then one is worried by the children, and snubbed by the parents,
sneered at by servants, and ignored by visitors."

"Then dressmaking? You work beautifully."

"The late hours, and the close rooms; do you think I could stand
it?"

"I am a little afraid for you," said Jane, thoughtfully. "What would
you like to do?"

"Why, I have never thought of doing anything but being with you,
working a little, reading a little, going out a little, and having
nobody over me but you, my own darling sister. It stuns me to be told
that I must go to work for a livelihood."

"I hope we may be able to live together as you hoped, eventually; but
in the meantime we must both put our shoulders to the wheel."

"Have we no friends who would give us a home--at least for a while,
till we get accustomed to the thought of hard work?" said Elsie.

"We have no relations, and we have made but few friends. I fear no one
would come forward to help us now that we need help so much. It is a
pity that my uncle kept us so much to himself, and that we were so
fully occupied with our own home duties that we had little or no
time for society. Now we have no capital for a start, and no friends to
help us on, only our talents and our education--a small
stock-in-trade, I fear."

In the course of the afternoon the man-servant, James, announced that
Mr. Dalzell was below, and that he sent his compliments and wished to
know how the young ladies were.

It was not the first visit since Mr. Hogarth's death. He had paid a
visit of condolence on the following day, and had never been so
affectionate or impressive in his manner to Jane as on that occasion.

"Show Mr. Dalzell upstairs, James," said Jane; "I think I should like
to see him."

The man looked somewhat intelligent, and obeyed.

"I cannot see anybody--I am not fit to be seen," said Elsie,
retreating in haste from the room; "and indeed, Jane, I wonder at you
wishing to see him so soon after this dreadful news."

"He has been at the funeral, I suppose. It is very proper of him
to inquire for us, and very imperative that we should understand each
other;--the sooner the better. But do not stay if you do not like. I
should prefer to see him alone."

Mr. Dalzell was shown into the darkened drawing-room, where he was some
time in discovering that Miss Melville was alone. A few of the kind
commonplaces which had been so successful on his previous visit--remarks
on the loss she had sustained, on the excellent character of
her deceased uncle, and on the necessity of bearing the blow with
fortitude, which her strong mind was quite capable of--were made by
Mr. Dalzell in unconsciousness that they fell very differently on
Jane's ears now. Jane asked for his mother, and heard that she was very
well, and sent her kindest regards and condolences, and hoped that the
Misses Melville would be able to see her on the following day.

"Were there many people at the funeral?" asked Jane.

"Oh yes, a great man; Mr. Hogarth was so extensively known, and so
much respected."

"Were there any strangers?"

"Several--to me," said Dalzell.

"Did you observe no one in particular?"

"Yes, a gentleman from Edinburgh, said to be a PROTEGE of your uncle's,
who took rather a prominent place on account of there being no male
relative surviving."

"Have you heard," said Jane, with an effort--"have you heard anything
of the will?"

"Nothing whatever--did not think it proper or delicate to inquire,
though I saw Mr. MacFarlane after it had been read. It is a matter of
no consequence to me how Mr. Hogarth has left his property. My feelings
will be quite the same towards----"

"Stop," said Jane; "my uncle has left his entire fortune to this
stranger from Edinburgh, who is his son by a private marriage. Elsie
and I have had an education, and must make the best we can of it."

"Miss Melville, this is incredible--quite incredible. You are
merely trying me. Mr. Hogarth was incapable of such madness and
injustice. It is not treating me well to play upon me in this way."

"In proof of what I say, here is a certified copy of the will--the
final will--executed six weeks ago, when, as you know, my uncle was
perfectly well both in body and mind. It is incontestable."

The bewildered young man tried to read the paper put into his hand, but
he could not follow the written words. Jane's sad face and her manner
convinced him, however, that she was telling him the truth.

"Now," said Jane kindly, "you have talked a great deal of nonsense to
me when my position was very different; but I am quite aware that
things are altogether changed. I will not feel at all hurt or angry
about it. We part perfectly good friends. But you cannot afford to
marry a wife without money, and I should be sorry to be a burden to any
man."