Griffith Gaunt. Charles Reade Reade

was Griffith all over," cried Catherine, merrily.)

      "I objected stoutly to this. I took leave to remind the young gentleman that, when a Christian man makes his last will and testament, he should think of the grave, and of the place beyond whither we may carry our affections, but must leave the bundle of our hates behind, the gate being narrow. I even went so far as to doubt whether such a proviso could stand in law; and I also put a practical query: what was to hinder the legatee from selling the property and diverting the funds, and then marrying whom she liked?

      "Mr. Gaunt was deaf to reason. He bade me remember that he was neither Saint nor Apostle, but a poor gentleman of Cumberland, who saw a stranger come between him and his lover dear: with that he was much moved, and did not conclude his argument at all, but broke off and was fain to hide his face with both hands awhile. In truth this touched me; and I looked another way; and began to ask myself why should I interfere, who, after all, know not your heart in the matter: and, to be brief, I withstood him and Parson's law no more; but sent his draft will to the clerks, the which they copied fair in a trice, and the duplicates were signed and witnessed in red hot haste; as most of men's follies are done for that matter.

      "The paper writing now produced and shown to me—tush! what am I saying?—I mean the paper writing I now produce and show to you is the draft of the will aforesaid, in the handwriting of the testator."

      And with this he handed Kate Peyton Griffith Gaunt's Will, and took a long and satirical pinch of snuff while she examined it.

      Miss Peyton took the will in her white hands and read it. But, in reading it she held it up, and turned it so, that her friend could not see her face while she read it, but only her white hands, in which the document rustled a little.

      It ran thus:—

      "I, Griffith Gaunt, late of the Eyrie, and now residing at Bolton Hall, in the county of Cumberland, being sound in body and mind, do deliver this as my last Will and Testament. I give and bequeath all the property real or personal, which I now possess or may hereafter become entitled to, to my dear friend and mistress, Catherine Peyton, daughter of Edward Peyton, Esquire, of Peyton Hall; provided always that the said Catherine Peyton shall at no time within the next ten years marry George Neville, of Neville's Court, in this county. But should the said Catherine marry the said George within ten years of this day, then I leave all my said property, in possession, remainder, or reversion, to my Heir-at-law."

      The fair legatee read this extraordinary testament more than once. At last she handed it back to Mr. Houseman without a word. But her cheek was red, and her eyes glistening.

      Mr. Houseman was surprised at her silence, and as he was curious to know her heart, he sounded her: asked her what she thought of that part of his story. But she evaded him with all the tact of her sex. "What, that is not all then?" said she quickly.

      Houseman replied that it was barely half.

      "Then tell me all, pray tell me all," said Kate, earnestly.

      "I am here to that end," said Houseman, and recommenced his narrative.

      "The business being done to Mr. Gaunt's satisfaction, though not to mine, we fell into some friendly talk; but in the midst of it my clerk Thomas brought me in the card of a gentleman whom I was very desirous to secure as a client.

      "Mr. Gaunt I think read my mind, for he took leave of me forthwith. I attended him to the door, and then welcomed the gentleman aforesaid, it was no other than Mr. George Neville.

      "Mr. Neville, after such gracious civilities as his native breeding and foreign travel have taught him, came to business and requested me—to draw his will."

      "La!" said Kate.

      "I was a little startled, but hid it, and took his instructions. This done, I requested to see the title-deeds of his estates, with a view to describing them, and he went himself to the banker's for them, and placed them in my hands.

      "I then promised to have the will ready in a week or ten days. But Mr. Neville, with many polite regrets for hurrying me, told me upon his honor he could give me but twenty-four hours. "After that, said he, 'it might be too late.'"

      ("Ah!" said Miss Peyton.)

      "Determined to retain my new client, I set my clerks to work, and this very day was engrossed, signed, and witnessed, the last will and testament of George Neville, Esquire, of Neville's Court, in the county of Cumberland, and Leicester Square, London, where he hath a noble mansion.

      "Now as to the general disposition of his lands, manorial rights, messuages, tenements, goods, chattels, etc., and his special legacies to divers ladies and gentlemen and domestic servants, these I will not reveal even to you.

      "The paper I now produce is a copy of that particular bequest which I have decided to communicate to you in strict and sacred confidence."

      And he handed her an extract from George Neville's will.

      Miss Peyton then read what follows:—

      "And I give and bequeath to Mistress Catherine Peyton of Peyton Hall in the said county of Cumberland in token of my respect and regard all that my freehold estate called Moulton Grange with the messuage or tenement standing and being thereon and the farm-yard buildings and appurtenances belonging thereto containing by estimation three hundred and seventy-six acres three roods and five perches be the same little more or less to hold to her the said Catherine Peyton her heirs and assigns for ever."

      The legatee laid down the paper, and leaned her head softly on her fair hand, and her eyes explored vacancy.

      "What means all this?" said she, aloud, but to herself.

      Mr. Houseman undertook the office of interpreter. "Means? why that he has left you one of the snuggest estates in the county. 'Tis not quite so large as Bolton; but lies sunnier, and the land richer. Well, mistress, was I right, are you not good for a thousand pounds?"

      Kate, still manifestly thinking of something else, let fall, as it were, out of her mouth that Mr. Gaunt and Mr. Neville were both men in the flower of their youth, and how was she the richer for their folly?

      "Why," said Houseman, "you will not have to wait for the death of these testators—Heaven forbid!—But what does all this making of wills show me? That both these gentlemen are deep in love with you, and you can pick and choose: I say you can wed with Bolton Hall or Neville's Court to-morrow: so prithee let the Squire have his hundred pounds, and do you repay me at your leisure."

      Miss Peyton made no reply, but leaned her exquisite head upon her hand and pondered.

      She did not knit her brows, nor labour visibly at the mental oar: yet a certain reposeful gravity and a fixity of the thoughtful eye showed she was applying all the power's of her mind.

      Mr. Houseman was not surprised at that: his own wife had but little intellect; yet had he seen her weigh two rival bonnets in mortal silence, and with all the seeming profundity of a judge on the bench. And now this young lady was doubtless weighing Farms with similar gravity, care, and intelligence.

      But as this continued and still she did not communicate her decision, he asked her point-blank which of the two she settled to wed: Neville's Court, or Bolton Grange.

      Thus appealed to, Miss Peyton turned her great eye on him without really looking at him, and replied,—"You have made me very uneasy."

      He stared. She relapsed into thought a moment, and then, turning to Houseman, asked him how he accounted for those two gentlemen making their wills; they were very young to make their wills all of a sudden.

      "Why," said Houseman, "Mr. Neville is a man of sense, and every man of sense makes his will; and, as for Mr. Gaunt, he has just come into prospect of an estate; that's why."

      "All, but why could not Griffith wait till after the funeral?"

      "Oh, clients are always in a hurry."

      "So you see nothing in it? nothing alarming I mean?"

      "Nothing very alarming. Two landed proprietors in love with you; that is all."