“Although you would no doubt prefer pugilism, I have something else in mind,” I tell him. “The best service you can render me, my dear, impetuous brother, is to stand at my side whilst I do what must be done. Come to Mr. Gerber’s office with me, Tom. If anybody can prevent me sinking into undue gravity over this business, it is you. But you must recover your good humor first, so that you can make me laugh at myself… and at this absurd situation.”
“Are you quite certain you wish me to accompany you, Jo? This is rather a private matter. Of course you want Father there, but perhaps you would rather I wait in the carriage.”
“No, there is no need for that. This business between me and Mr. Pierce is no longer an affair of the heart. It ceased to be that months ago. It is purely a legal question now, and as such, it concerns the whole family to one degree or another. I want you present, Tom; it is right that you should be there.”
“As you wish, then.”
Upon our arrival, the clerk, who is expecting us, ushers us into Mr. Gerber’s chamber. “Ah, Mr. Walker, Miss Walker, I am glad to see you again but sorry for the need of it,” the solicitor says. He shakes hands with each of us. “Please, do make yourselves comfortable.”
“This is my brother Tom, Mr. Gerber,” I inform him before taking a chair.
“Yes, yes. Young Mr. Walker, I am delighted to make your acquaintance at last.”
“At last, sir? I had no idea that you knew of my existence. Whatever my sister has told you about me, you mustn’t believe the half of it, you know,” he says, returning Mr. Gerber’s smile and firm grip.
“She has told me a deal about you, sir, but nothing to your discredit, I assure you. Well now, Miss Walker, may I see the letter?” I hand it over and he gives it a cursory perusal. “Yes, just as we expected. Are you still determined to proceed as planned? Remember, you have every right to change your mind; there would be no disgrace in it.”
“No change, Mr. Gerber,” I declare. “I have turned the matter over and over in my mind, and I am quite at peace with my decision. I have no doubt this is the right course, for myself and for the others involved.”
“And you, Mr. Walker? Are you in agreement?”
“Let us just say that I am resigned to it,” Papa grumbles. “My daughter may do as she wishes.”
“Very well, then.”
Tom breaks in. “Pardon me. Everybody else seems to know what is going on, but I haven’t a clue. You wanted me here, Jo, so will you please let me in on the secret?”
“Be patient, Tom. Mr. Gerber will explain.” I nod to the distinguished man across the desk, authorizing him to do so.
“Mr. Walker, your sister no doubt wanted you here because this matter concerns you very greatly. Rather than risk her fortune falling into the hands of the undeserving through this noxious law suit, she has decided to dispose of her inheritance as she sees fit. Therefore, this is a little like the reading of a will, except your benefactress is still living.”
“My benefactress? I do not understand.” He turns to me. “Jo?”
Knowing that what I am about to say will forever change my dear brother’s future, I feel my chest swell with pride and excitement. “Tom, I mean to give Miss Graham and the Pittmans each a portion, but I want you to have the bulk of my money, so that you may pursue your ambitions in architecture. Talent and passion like yours should not be allowed to go to waste. Twelve thousand pounds should enable you to make your way – to travel, to study, to apprentice under the best men in the field – without worrying for your daily bread.”
“Good lord! Have you completely lost your senses, little sister? Give away your inheritance? Why, it is ludicrous! Incredibly generous, but ludicrous all the same, and I will not allow you to do it.”
“You mustn’t argue, Tom; it is already done,” I say, laughing with delight at his reaction. “Believe me when I tell you that the money has never given me a moment’s happiness until now. It would satisfy me still less to see any of it go to Mr. Pierce. Instead, think how much joy I shall have using my fortune to benefit my dear friends – to restore some of what the Pittmans have lost; to give Susan and Mr. Ramsey the chance to marry early; and to put your dream within reach. What could possibly give me more pleasure than that?” My voice falters with emotion on the last few words, and my eyes fill with tears against my will.
“Mr. Gerber, can she do this?” questions Tom. The solicitor merely nods. “Father, cannot you dissuade her?”
“I assure you, I have tried, but your sister is quite determined. I fear you have no choice, my boy, but to bravely bear the consequences,” he says wryly.
Tom shakes his head in bewilderment, mumbling, “Twelve thousand pounds. The chance at my dream? I cannot believe it.” Abruptly, he turns back to me. “Wait, Jo, what about my duty to Millwalk parish? I am expected to take up my post there shortly. Have you forgotten about that? ”
“No, but I thought perhaps Mr. Summeride could be persuaded to manage things a little longer whilst you take your training in architecture. Then, when you are ready to assume your place as rector, you can keep him on as curate if you wish, to allow you more time to pursue your other interests.”
“I see you have given this a great deal of thought.”
“I have. That is how I know I am doing the right thing. You may depend on it.”
Tom presents no more arguments. He leans back in his chair, agape, as if in disbelief.
“Ahem. Well then,” says Mr. Gerber, “if that is settled, I have a few papers that need to be signed. Then I can manage everything else for you. Once the disbursements have been made, I shall respond to this letter from Mr. Dewberry informing him that you haven’t the resources to pay the damages claimed, nor even a fraction thereof. It will come as a great disappointment to his client, no doubt, but there will be nothing whatever that he can do about it; he cannot legally sue any of your relations to recover the money. So I expect that will be an end to it, exactly as you wished, Miss Walker.”
“Excellent. The sooner it is done, the better.”
Ten minutes later, our business complete, I thank Mr. Gerber sincerely and leave his offices quite elated. “It is over! It is over!” I repeat to myself again and again in nervous gratitude. The worst is over. The money is gone and I am free of the burden it has been to carry it. Had I not been perfectly content before without it? Now I shall be even happier to have rid myself of it in such a way as to benefit people I love most in the world.
I will not see Susan’s face when she discovers my gift in her letter, but I anticipate the pleasure of witnessing Agnes’s excitement. Tom’s reaction continues to evolve minute to minute – from his questioning disbelief, to a stunned silence, and finally a bright-eyed animation as he begins to talk about his new future.
“You dear, sweet, generous girl!” he exclaims as we travel back to our lodgings. “I still cannot believe my luck in having such a sister. I hope you are absolutely certain this is what you want, for I warn you, once I have the money, I will not easily be persuaded to give it back again. I intend to put it to good use without delay. I shall embark on the grand tour immediately, taking in the finest architecture on the continent and seeking out the great minds in the field. Not that I need pattern myself after anyone else. I have more ideas of my own than I could possibly put into practice in a lifetime. The improvements at Millwalk will be just the beginning, thanks to you, Jo. I will do you proud, I swear. You shall have no cause to regret investing in my career, and, in future, you will find me your most loyal champion. You shall never be in want, danger, or despair so long as I can prevent it.”
~~*~~
Mama welcomes us home the next day, her anxious eyes flitting from face to face. “Did everything go well in London?” she asks. “Has it all been settled according to Jo’s plan?”
Tom cuts in. “I collect that everybody knew about my good fortune before I did.”
“I trust you will forgive me that, Tom,” I say. “Yes, Mama, it is just as I wish
ed.”
Papa adds, “For better or for worse, it is done. And I must say Tom appears happier with the money and Jo happier without it. So perhaps it has turned out as it should after all.”
“That is very well then. There may yet be a complication, however,” says Mama, producing a letter addressed to me and bearing the initials RP, denoting the sender. “This arrived whilst you were away.”
“What can it mean, I wonder?” Taking the unexpected missive, I open and read it aloud.
My Dear Miss Walker,
I must begin by expressing my deep disappointment that I cannot yet address you by a different name, as should be the case by now if all had gone smoothly for us. Yet I am by no means discouraged. No, I believe I can interpret your reason for this delay. You intend it as a test of my constancy, and I flatter myself that I shall pass that test and win you in the end.
It is in testimony to my faithfulness that I write to you now. The necessity arises from my desire to prepare you for the imminent arrival of another communication, one from our solicitor Mr. Dewberry. I would not have it take you unawares. I wish with all my heart that I could spare you entirely, but I find I can only warn you of its coming and explain my actions.
As I feared, I have been unable, by any art or reason, to convince my father that he should give up seeking damages against you. To refuse his demands entirely would be impossible in my dependent state. His threats against you notwithstanding, my father will never pursue the matter into court for dread of the unfavorable publicity. He only means to intimidate you into offering a substantial settlement. He hopes for six or seven thousand pounds, but Mr. Dewberry has told him that is unlikely. For my part, I am determined that he shall accept as little as three. Should you tender an offer of that amount, I swear I will sign the papers, with or without his approval, and this business will be over.
I beg you would not think of me too meanly for my current powerlessness. I would do more if I could. And I must insist that you make no response by return post, lest the letter should fall into the wrong hands and my father be made aware of my collusion. He would consider my telling you these things a gross disloyalty. Instead, if I may be so bold, I intend to call upon you as soon as ever I can get away, to ascertain your reaction to this proposal. My hope is that you will be pleased to see me. I remain…
Yours ever,
Richard Pierce
“I do not understand,” I continue. “Richard meant for me to receive this before the notice from Mr. Dewberry arrived.”
“Look here at the date,” my father tells me. “This letter must have been misdirected at first, so it has come too late. Had you known all this before, would it have made a difference?”
I consider the question a moment and then shake my head. “This changes nothing; I would do exactly the same all over again. It pleased me very much to put the money to better use than if I had kept it. Besides, despite what he says here, I could never be certain Richard would stand firm against his father, now any more than in the past. No, I was satisfied with my decision before, and I will not allow this letter to cast doubt over it. But, dear me! According to this, we must expect Mr. Pierce to turn up at any moment.”
37
Telling Effects
When, a few days later, I deliver the news to Agnes of my bequest to her family, she exhibits far fewer scruples about it than did my brother. She accepts the gift at once with unabashed pleasure. However, the potential benefit to herself notwithstanding, Agnes can little appreciate my decision to divest myself of my fortune.
“I can understand your placing some of the money out of reach in the care of your friends, Jo, but how could you bear to part with all of it? I would not have believed you capable of such a rash act. Indeed, I thought you were only joking when you mentioned it before. Had I known you were serious, I should have counseled you very sternly against the idea.”
“Never mind, Agnes; it would have made no difference. Others tried to dissuade me, and I would not listen. You and I have chosen different paths, and we must, each of us, wish the other contentment in her own way.”
After I leave Agnes, I decide to call on Mrs. Evensong. The servant who answers the door shows me to the sitting room and goes to summon his mistress. When she enters, I am struck by how gaunt and pale, almost emaciated, she looks. The steady decline in Mrs. Evensong’s health has been so gradual that I suppose I have become accustomed to it by degrees. Yet, compared to the picture in my mind from former years, the change in her is startling. I can hardly keep my countenance.
“Ah, my dear Jo, how good of you to stop,” she says coming to me and taking both my hands with her thin ones. “I was hoping I would see you soon, for there is a delicate matter I wish to discuss with you.” My concern and curiosity are immediately aroused. We take seats together and she continues. “It is about Miss Pittman’s engagement.”
“Miss Pittman’s engagement?” I repeat stupidly.
“Yes, I was very much surprised to hear of it.”
Her mild tone and placid aspect gives no hint of the annoyance she might be expected to feel at the event. Still, I answer cautiously. “Of course. It was quite unexpected, even by her closest friends. I did not know you had become aware of it though, Mrs. Evensong. It has not yet been announced.”
“Your mama told me.”
“Ah. No doubt she thought you had a right to be acquainted with the fact, since Agnes was for so long intended to be your daughter-in-law. I pray you will not think too uncharitably of Miss Pittman for changing her mind.”
“I do not resent her for it, not in the least. I know she was perfectly free from any obligation to my son. Oh, you needn’t be afraid of owning it to me; Arthur has told me as much himself. I was in favor of the match when I thought they would make each other happy, but it is a long time since I believed that possible. So I harbor no ill will whatever against Miss Pittman for choosing someone who suits her better. Will you allow the same for my Arthur, Jo? Will you grant that he is also justified in preferring another?”
I study my folded hands for a diplomatic response to this uncomfortable turn in the conversation, finally saying, “I do not know that he does prefer another.”
“Of course he does, my dear.” She reaches over and strokes a gentle finger across my cheek. “If you cannot see it, it is only because some unpleasantness has clouded your vision.”
“It seems your son tells you everything.”
“Far from it. A mother does not need to be told when her child is in pain… or when he is in love either.”
“Oh, no,” I protest miserably. “You must not think he cares for me in that way, Mrs. Evensong. Arthur and I are friends… we were, that is.”
“Call it what you like, only tell me what has gone wrong between the two of you. Arthur will not speak of it, but you might if you choose. What can be so grave that you would turn your back on such a friend?” She draws a long, rasping breath and breaks into her now ever-present cough. “Come now, Jo,” she says when sufficiently recovered. “I can see you are nearly as wretched about this muddle as Arthur is.”
“Dear, dear Mrs. Evensong, I beg you would not concern yourself. You must save your strength.”
“Pray, excuse my meddling, but my son’s happiness is a matter of no small importance to me,” she says quietly. “Under normal circumstances, I would be slow to interfere, but I feel constrained to do what I can for him… whilst I am able. I fear I have too little time to be patient.”
I groan aloud, at the thought of losing this dear lady and also at her insistence that I should answer importunate questions about Arthur. Yet there is no help for it. The situation being what it is, I cannot deny her request. With tears now freely rolling down my cheeks, I abandon any further attempt to dissemble.
“Very well. If you must know, it is simply that I owe my first allegiance to Agnes. When Arthur cast her off, she was devastated. I mayn’t forgive him without being disloyal to her. Can you not appreciate the difficulty o
f my position?”
“Certainly, I can.” She is silent for a thoughtful moment. “Forgive me for saying so, my dear, but it seems to me that if Miss Pittman has put the matter behind her and is happy, you might consider yourself free to do the same. Holding on to resentment on her account will do no one, least of all yourself, any good service in the end.”
“But there is a principle at stake. Agnes’s current happiness does not change what Arthur has done.”
“My dear Josephine, you know you are like a daughter to me. I only want what is best for you, the same as I do my other children. Although nothing would please me more, I do not require that you should fall in love with my son. However, I must insist that you be fair to him. Hear Arthur’s side of the story before you condemn him. That is all I ask.” She leans forward and lifts my chin, looking me earnestly in the face. “You must promise me that you will do this.”
I answer without hesitation. “Yes, of course, Mrs. Evensong. For your sake, I will hear him out. I promise.”
Her taut expression eases and she slowly settles back into her chair. “Thank you, Jo. That means a great deal to me.”
~~*~~
Later, when I leave Mrs. Evensong, I come face to face with the subject of our discussion. He is coming in the door as I am preparing to go out. “Arthur! I… I did not expect to see you.”
“No, I am only this minute arrived from Oxford.”
For Myself Alone: A Jane Austen Inspired Novel Page 23