Part 2 (2/2)
Salome said, ”father is dying! Mr. Stone has telegraphed for Dr. Scott, but he has no hope.”
Raymond's lip quivered, and the real boy-nature a.s.serted itself. ”I wish I had not taken Captain,” he said. ”Where's mother?”
”In the library. He was seized with this fit while I was with him there.
He could not bear the dreadful blow which has fallen on him.”
”Blow! What do you mean?”
”I forgot,” Salome said simply. ”Father has lost all his money, and we shall have nothing.”
”What nonsense! We shall have this house, and--”
”Oh no, Raymond! The house and everything in it will have to be sold.
But oh! what is that--what is that to--losing father?” and Salome covered her face with her hands and wept bitterly.
”I say, Salome, don't take on like this,” said Raymond in a strangely husky and unnatural voice. ”There is some mistake, depend upon it.
Things can't be as bad as that. Why, what am _I_ to do, if I can't go back to Eton?”
Ah, there was the sting to the undisciplined, selfish nature,--”What am _I_ to do?”
Salome turned away and went back to keep her sorrowful vigil by her mother's side.
The next week was like a terrible dream to Salome. The dreaded news of the stoppage of the Central Bank came, as had been expected; but Mr.
Wilton died unknowing that his worst fears had been realized, and that all was lost. He was laid to rest in the pretty churchyard of Maplestone just one week after the blow had fallen, and his widow and children were left desolate.
Uncle Loftus had arrived, as Miss Barnes had expected. He had not remained all through the sad week,--while the suns.h.i.+ne reigned without, and darkness and dreariness within Maplestone Court,--but he returned for the funeral; and the same evening he sat in consultation with Mr.
Calvert, the lawyer, and Mr. De Brette, with the partners of the great timber concern which had collapsed in the general and widespread pressure of the time. Mr. Wilton's case was rendered far worse by the loss of a large private income derived from shares in the Central Bank.
There was literally nothing left to his children but his heavy liabilities and his wife's small settlement.
”Under three hundred a year,” Dr. Loftus Wilton said; ”and with all their previous habits and way of life, this will be little enough. My sister-in-law is not a strong woman, and has had her own way, poor thing--I mean she has been blessed with a very indulgent husband.”
”I suppose the eldest boy can earn his living,” Mr. De Brette said; ”he is over seventeen.”
”He ought to do so. We must get him into an office. Perhaps, when the concern is wound up, Mr. Ferguson may find him a berth when a fresh start is made.”
”A fresh start!” exclaimed Mr. Ferguson; ”that will never be, as far as I am concerned. I should think a clerks.h.i.+p in a bank would be better.”
”I think you ought to see Raymond,” Dr. Loftus Wilton said; ”he is his father's representative, and everything should be laid before him. Then there is the eldest girl, close on sixteen; a little creature, but full of nerve and sense. Shall we call them?”
The gentlemen seemed doubtful; and Mr. De Brette said,--
”Poor things! I think we had better leave it to you to tell them what must happen. The house will realize a good deal,” he added, looking round; ”fine pictures, and everything in good order. The cellar, too, must be valuable--poor Wilton's wine was always of the choicest.”
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