and his friend, Sir Charles Cobtree, Leveller of the Marsh Scots of
Romney, in the Court -House of Dymchurch-under-the-Wall. Let me add that
my recommend ation has been approved by the two honoured ladies who await
you above. And let me add again that they are only willing to receive
you as representing your ward and nephew, Mister Nicholas Tappitt, now
absent in Spain, who was involved in generous business ties with the
late Senor Almago. These ladies now await you: the widow and the
daughter of the said Spanish gentleman. Doctor Syn and myself are both
busy men; and so if you will follow us to the parlour above, you shall
hear the instructions regarding your ward.”
Saying which, young Cobtree led the way through the crowd of women
and children in the hall.
Now, on the mention of the parlour above, the Squire of Iffley lifted
his quizzing -glass and, surveying the window indicated, beheld the
beautiful Imogene anxiously peering over the ledge.
The Squire, seeming not to have listened to the purport of the
lawyer’s speech, called upon Doctor Syn to wait.
“Is that young filly above there the wench whom my nephew has let
slip through his purse-strings?”
Doctor Syn did not reply, but with an angry gesture pointed to the
porch.
The Squire, however, did not immediately obey the invitation to enter
the house. He continued to gaze at the Spanish girl, who, feeling the
embarrassment, retired from the open window.
“I have always thought my nephew a fool,” continued the Squire. “I
am now so sure of it that if I do not marry the girl myself I shall at
least cut him out of my testament. She is as beautiful as she is rich,
and shall such a morsel be thrown away upon such a rapacious young
parson as yourself? We’ll soon see to that, sir. Lead me to this
charmer, at once.”
Doctor Syn, who had kindly set the children aside to make a passageway, now turned with an expression of suppressed fury upon the Squire of
Iffley.
“You must please understand, sir,” he said coldly, “that you are only
permitted to enter here as a legal representative of your nephew. In
short, to be quite frank, I do not intend to introduce you to my
betrothed, so you will look upon this as merely a business interview.
Follow me.”
Saying which, Doctor Syn followed young Cobtree into the hall.
Young Cobtree, who had overheard all and had reached the parlour
first, instructed the ladies that it would not be seemly for either of
them to rise, to curtsey, or in any way greet the scoundrel who
unfortunately had to be admitted to the conference merely as the
guardian of his nephew, and thus it was that when Doctor Syn said, “This
is the Squire of Iffley, and uncle to your acquaintance Nicholas
Tappitt, who is here at the request of your legal representative,”
neither of the ladies so much as bowed an acknowledgment to the Squire’s
elaborate bow in the doorway. Realizing that he was ignored, however,
did not prevent him from raising his quizzing-glas and surveying
with audible sighs the young Imogene.
“I think we will close the windows,” said young Cobtree. “I shall
nver be able to make myself clear to you, sir, with all this noise. In
point of fact, sir, the crowd is grown so hostile against you that on
the completion of our interview I think you will be hard put to it to
reach your home at Iffley with a whole skin. Kindly sit down there.”
And he pointed to an empty chair at the table.
- 25 -
This the Squire surv eyed through his quizzing-glass as he approached it,
pretended to perceive dust upon the seat, which he flicked away with a
large handkerchief, and continued the insulting gesture till young
Cobtree had closed the window.
“If the chair is not to your liking, sir,” he said, as he sat down in
front of his papers, I am sure the ladies will allow you to stand. It
will at least lend you a show of respect.”
The Squire placed one hand idly on the back of the chair, and raising
his glance once more, surveyed the elder lady quickly, passed on to the
younger, and surveyed her longer, while uttering a sigh of longingness.
“Although these gentlemen,” he said, waving his hand towards Doctor
Syn and young Cobtree, “seem as desirous as their friends without to
place me at a disadvantage with you, I assure you both, dear ladies,
that I am ravished to meet such beauty, and would wish nothing better
than to be your very humble servant.” An elaborate bow before
continuing: “I extend to you a very hearty welcome to E ngland and to
Oxford. Perhaps I owe you an apology. Doctor Syn has already corrected
me for the letter of invitation I sent you at Lympne Castle. It was
supposed to come from my wife. You will ask me why I acted this lie.
My excuse is that I was anxious to play the humble host to you, and am
still anxious to do so. Not being versed in the conversations of Spain,
I feared that, did you know I was a bachelor, you might feel inclined to
refuse my hospitality. Let me assure you that in England the presen ce
of my lady housekeeper ensures that all proper conventions would be
observed. Also when I wrote I was ignorant that this very fortunate
young parson had been more successful than my nephew in having won the
heart of this lady. Had I known of this, I should have extended my
hospitality to him. This I still do. Doctor Syn, you are welcome at
Iffley for as long as these ladies will honour me with their presence.”
Doctor Syn was about to reply, but Imogene interrupted him with a
gesture.
“My mother speaks but little English, sir,” she said, addressing the
Squire, “so no doubt you will allow me as her medium. My mother has
come to England to seek quiet after her bereavement. We are very
comfortable here in these rooms found for us by Doctor Syn. She would
not feel happy if we were to thrust ourselves upon you as guests, lest
our own sadness communicate itself to others of your household.”
“Bless you, my dear young lady,” laughed the Squire, “You may both
of you cry all day, if you be in the mind, and I’ll give orders that all
at Iffley shall cry with you for company and to put you at your ease.”
“I think, sir,” put Doctor Syn, “that we can let any question of your
hospitality alone. Since I have forbidden my own students to visit you,
I shall advise these ladies in the same manner. Mr. Cobtree is a busy
man, and I have my duties at Queen’s College. I suggest that we finish
our business as speedily as possible.”
“Nothing that I can do or say,” laughed the Squire, “appears to have
any weight with any of you. I give in. Since I am thus discredited,
let me at least know how my fool of a nephew stands in your regard. Is
he, or is he not, mentioned in this Almago’s will?”
To which Imogene replied: “Mister Antony Cobtree here is
representing my mother and myself in English law. I have already
translated my dear father’s last testament to him from the Spanish,
which he has put into legal terms in English. As your nephew’s
guardian —and may I say that we are both very attached to your nephe w,
sir?—it is only right that in his behalf you should
- 26 -
hear my father’s last wishes concerning him. Mister Cobtree, will you
proceed?”
Tony Cobtree afterwards confessed that he not only enjoyed the official
situation, in which he found himself, but went out of his way to sound
the deepest dryness of the legal phrases which he uttered. And in this