pgw.uneasymoney-第7部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！


　got'
　'A　roof　over　my　head？　I　know。　You　needn't　keep　rubbing　it　in。'
　Elizabeth　flushed。
　'I　wasn't　going　to　say　that　at　all。　What　a　pig　you　are　sometimes；　Nutty。　As　if　I　wasn't　only　too　glad　to　have　you　here。　What　I　was　going　to　say　was　that　you　ought　to　be　very　thankful　that　you　have　got　to　draw　water　and　hew　wood'
　A　look　of　absolute　alarm　came　into　Nutty's　pallid　face。
　'You　don't　mean　to　say　that　you　want　some　wood　chopped？'
　'I　was　speaking　figuratively。　I　meant　hustle　about　and　work　in　the　open　air。　The　sort　of　life　you　are　leading　now　is　what　millionaires　pay　hundreds　of　dollars　for　at　these　physical…culture　places。　It　has　been　the　making　of　you。'
　'I　don't　feel　made。'
　'Your　nerves　are　ever　so　much　better。'
　'They　aren't。'
　Elizabeth　looked　at　him　in　alarm。
　'Oh；　Nutty；　you　haven't　beenseeing　anything　again；　have　you？'
　'Not　seeing；　dreaming。　I've　been　dreaming　about　monkeys。　Why　should　I　dream　about　monkeys　if　my　nerves　were　all　right？'
　'I　often　dream　about　all　sorts　of　queer　things。'
　'Have　you　ever　dreamed　that　you　were　being　chased　up　Broadway　by　a　chimpanzee　in　evening　dress？'
　'Never　mind；　dear；　you'll　be　quite　all　right　again　when　you　have　been　living　this　life　down　here　a　little　longer。'
　Nutty　glared　balefully　at　the　ceiling。
　'What's　that　darned　thing　up　there　on　the　ceiling？　It　looks　like　a　hornet。　How　on　earth　do　these　things　get　into　the　house？'
　'We　ought　to　have　nettings。　I　am　going　to　pounce　on　Mr　Flack　about　that　too。'
　'Thank　goodness　this　isn't　going　to　last　much　longer。　It's　nearly　two　weeks　since　Uncle　Ira　died。　We　ought　to　be　hearing　from　the　lawyers　any　day　now。　There　might　be　a　letter　this　morning。'
　'Do　you　think　he　has　left　us　his　money？'
　'Do　I？　Why；　what　else　could　he　do　with　it？　We　are　his　only　surviving　relatives；　aren't　we？　I've　had　to　go　through　life　with　a　ghastly　name　like　Nutbe　as　a　pliment　to　him；　haven't　I？　I　wrote　to　him　regularly　at　Christmas　and　on　his　birthday；　didn't　I？　Well；　then！　I　have　a　feeling　there　will　be　a　letter　from　the　lawyers　to…day。　I　wish　you　would　get　dressed　and　go　down　to　the　post…office　while　I'm　fetching　that　infernal　water。　I　can't　think　why　the　fools　haven't　cabled。　You　would　have　supposed　they　would　have　thought　of　that。'
　Elizabeth　returned　to　her　room　to　dress。　She　was　conscious　of　a　feeling　that　nothing　was　quite　perfect　in　this　world。　It　would　be　nice　to　have　a　great　deal　of　money；　for　she　had　a　scheme　in　her　mind　which　called　for　a　large　capital；　but　she　was　sorry　that　it　could　e　to　her　only　through　the　death　of　her　uncle；　of　whom；　despite　his　somewhat　forbidding　personality；　she　had　always　been　fond。　She　was　also　sorry　that　a　large　sum　of　money　was　ing　to　Nutty　at　that　particular　point　in　his　career；　just　when　there　seemed　the　hope　that　the　simple　life　might　pull　him　together。　She　knew　Nutty　too　well　not　to　be　able　to　forecast　his　probable　behaviour　under　the　influence　of　a　sudden　restoration　of　wealth。
　While　these　thoughts　were　passing　through　her　mind　she　happened　to　glance　out　of　the　window。　Nutty　was　shambling　through　the　garden　with　his　pail；　a　bowed；　shuffling　pillar　of　gloom。　As　Elizabeth　watched；　he　dropped　the　pail　and　lashed　the　air　violently　for　a　while。　From　her　knowledge　of　bees　（'It　is　needful　to　remember　that　bees　resent　outside　interference　and　will　resolutely　defend　themselves；'　_Encyc。　Brit。_；　Vol。　III；　AUS　to　BIS）　Elizabeth　deduced　that　one　of　her　little　pets　was　annoying　him。　This　episode　concluded；　Nutty　resumed　his　pail　and　the　journey；　and　at　this　moment　there　appeared　over　the　hedge　the　face　of　Mr　John　Prescott；　a　neighbour。　Mr　Prescott；　who　had　dismounted　from　a　bicycle；　called　to　Nutty　and　waved　something　in　the　air。　To　a　stranger　the　performance　would　have　been　obscure；　but　Elizabeth　understood　it。　Mr　Prescott　was　intimating　that　he　had　been　down　to　the　post…office　for　his　own　letters　and；　as　was　his　neighbourly　custom　on　these　occasions；　had　brought　back　also　letters　for　Flack's。
　Nutty　foregathered　with　Mr　Prescott　and　took　the　letters　from　him。　Mr　Prescott　disappeared。　Nutty　selected　one　of　the　letters　and　opened　it。　Then；　having　stood　perfectly　still　for　some　moments；　he　suddenly　turned　and　began　to　run　towards　the　house。
　The　mere　fact　that　her　brother；　whose　usual　mode　of　progression　was　a　languid　saunter；　should　be　actually　running；　was　enough　to　tell　Elizabeth　that　the　letter　which　Nutty　had　read　was　from　the　London　lawyers。　No　other　munication　could　have　galvanized　him　into　such　energy。　Whether　the　contents　of　the　letter　were　good　or　bad　it　was　impossible　at　that　distance　to　say。　But　when　she　reached　the　open　air；　just　as　Nutty　charged　up；　she　saw　by　his　face　that　it　was　anguish　not　joy　that　had　spurred　him　on。　He　was　gasping　and　he　bubbled　unintelligible　words。　His　little　eyes　gleamed　wildly。
　'Nutty；　darling；　what　is　it？'　cried　Elizabeth；　every　maternal　instinct　in　her　aroused。
　He　was　thrusting　a　sheet　of　paper　at　her；　a　sheet　of　paper　that　bore　the　superscription　of　Nichols；　Nichols；　Nichols；　and　Nichols；　with　a　London　address。
　'Uncle　Ira'　Nutty　choked。　'Twenty　pounds！　He's　left　me　twenty　pounds；　and　all　the　rest　to　ato　a　man　named　Dawlish！'
　In　silence　Elizabeth　took　the　letter。　It　was　even　as　he　had　said。　A　few　moments　before　Elizabeth　had　been　regretting　the　imminent　descent　of　wealth　upon　her　brother。　Now　she　was　inconsistent　enough　to　boil　with　rage　at　the　shattering　blow　which　had　befallen　him。　That　she；　too；　had　lost　her　inheritance　hardly　occurred　to　her。　Her　thoughts　were　all　for　Nutty。　It　did　not　need　the　sight　of　him；　gasping　and　gurgling　before　her；　to　tell　her　how　overwhelming　was　his　disappointment。
　It　was　useless　to　be　angry　with　the　deceased　Mr　Nutbe。　He　was　too　shadowy　a　mark。　Besides；　he　was　dead。　The　whole　current　of　her　wrath　turned　upon　the　supplanter；　this　Lord　Dawlish。　She　pictured　him　as　a　crafty　adventurer；　a　wretched　fortune…hunter。　For　some　reason　or　other　she　imagined　him　a　sinister　person　with　a　black　moustache；　a　face　thin　and　hawk…like；　and　unpleasant　eyes。　That　was　the　sort　of　man　who　would　be　likely　to　fasten　his　talons　into　poor　Uncle　Ira。
　She　had　never　hated　any　one　in　her　life　before；　but　as　she　stood　there　at　that　moment　she　felt　that　she　loathed　and　detested　William　Lord　Dawlishunhappy；　well…meaning　Bill；　who　only　a　few　hours　back　had　set　foot　on　American　soil　in　his　desire　to　nose　round　and　see　if　something　couldn't　be　arranged。
　Nutty　fetched　the　water。　Life　is　like　that。　There　is　nothing　clean…cut　about　it；　no　sense　of　form。　Instead　of　being　permitted　to　concentrate　his　attention　on　his　tragedy　Nutty　had　to　trudge　three…quarters　of　a　mile；　conciliate　a　bull…terrier；　and　trudge　back　again　carrying　a　heavy　pail。　It　was　as　if　one　of　the　heroes　of　Greek　drama；　in　the　middle　of　his　big　scene；　had　been　asked　to　run　round　the　corner　to　a　provision　store。
　The　exercise　did　not　act　as　a　restorative。　The　blow　had　been　too　sudden；　too　overwhelming。　Nutty's　reasonsuch　as　it　wastottered　on　its　throne。　Who　was　Lord　Dawlish？　What　had　he　done　to　ingratiate　himself　with　Uncle　Ira？　By　what　insidious　means；　with　what　devilish　cunning；　had　he　wormed　his　way　into　the　old　man's　favour？　These　were　the　questions　that　vexed　Nutty's　mind　when　he　was　able　to　think　at　all　coherently。
　Back　at　the　farm　Elizabeth　cooked　breakfast　and　awaited　her　brother's　return　with　a　sinking　heart。　She　was　a　soft…hearted　girl；　easily　distressed　by　the　sight　of　suffering；　and　she　was　aware　that　Nutty　was　scarcely　of　the　type　that　masks　its　woes　behind　a　brave　and　cheerful　smile。　Her　heart　bled　for　Nutty。
　There　was　a　weary　step　outside。　Nutty　entered；　slopping　water。　One　glance　at　his　face　was　enough　to　tell　Elizabeth　that　she　had　formed　a　too　conservative　estimate　of　his　probable　gloom。　Without　a　word　he　coiled　his　long　form　in　a　chair。　There　was　silence　in　the　stricken　house。
　'What's　the　time？'
　Elizabeth　glanced　at　her　watch。
　'Half…past　nine。'
　'About　now；'　said　Nutty；　sepulchrally；　'the　blighter　is　ringing　for　his　man　to　prepare　his　bally　bath　and　lay　out　his　gold…leaf　underwear。　After　that　he　will　drive　down　to　the　bank　and　draw　some　of　our　money。'
　The　day　passed　wearily　for　Elizabeth。　Nutty　having　the　air　of　one　who　is　still　engaged　in　picking　up　the　pieces；　she　had　not　the　heart　to　ask　him　to　play　his　customary　part　in　the　household　duties；　so　she　washed　the　dishes　and　made　the　beds　herself。　After　that　she　attended　to　the　bees。　After　that　she　cooked　lunch。
　Nutty　was　not　chatty　at　lunch。　Having　observed　'About　now　the　blighter　is　cursing　the　waiter　for　bringing　the　wrong　brand　of　champagne；'　he　relapsed　into　a　silence　which　he　did　not　again　break。
　Elizabeth　was　busy　again　in　the　afternoon。　At　four　o'clock；　feeling　tired　out；　she　went　to　her　room　to　lie　down　until　the　next　of　her　cycle　of　domestic　duties　should　e　round。
　It　was　late　when　she　came　downstairs；　for　she　had　fallen　asleep。　The　sun　had　gone　down。　Bees　were　winging　their　way　heavily　back　to　the　hives　with　their　honey。　She　went　out　into　the　grounds　to　try　to　find　Nutty。　There　had　been　no　signs　of　him　in　the　house。　There　were　no　signs　of　him　about　the　grounds。　It　was　not　like　him　to　have　taken　a　walk；　but　it　seemed　the　only　possibility。　She　went　back　to　the　house　to　wait。　Eight　o'clock　came；　and　nine；　and　it　was　then　the　truth　dawned　upon　herNutty　had　escaped。　He　had　slipped　away　and　gone　up　to　New　York。
　
　6
　Lord　Dawlish　sat　in　the　New　York　flat　which　had　been　lent　him　by　his　friend　Gates。　The　hour　was　half…past　ten　in　the　evening；　the　day；　the　second　day　after　the　exodus　of　Nutty　Boyd　from　the　farm。　Before　him　on　the　table　lay　a　letter。　He　was　smoking　pensively。
　Lord　Dawlish　had　found　New　York　enjoyable；　but　a　trifle　fatiguing。　There　was　much　to　be　seen　in　the　city；　and　he　had　made　the　mistake　of　trying　to　see　it　all　at　once。　It　had　been　his　intention；　when　he　came　home　after　dinner　that　night；　to　try　to　restore　the　balance　of　things　by　going　to　bed　early。　He　had　sat　up　longer　than　he　had　intended；　because　he　had　been　thinking　about　this　letter。
　Immediately　upon　his　arrival　in　America；　Bill　had　sought　out　a　lawyer　and　instructed　him　to　write　to　Elizabeth　Boyd；　offering　her　one…half　of　the　late　Ira　Nutbe's　money。　He　had　had　time　during　the　voyage　to　think　the　whole　matter　over；　and　this　seemed　to　him　the　only　possible　course。　He　could　not　keep　it　all。　He　would　feel　like　the　despoiler　of　the　widow　and　the　orphan。　Nor　would　it　be　fair　to　Claire　to　give　it　all　up。　If　he　halved　the　legacy　everybody　would　be　satisfied。
　That　at　least　had　been　his　view　until　Elizabeth's　reply　had　arrived。　It　was　this　reply　that　lay　on　the　tablea　brief；　formal　note；　setting　forth　Miss　Boyd's　absolute　refusal　to　accept　any　portion　of　the　money。　This　was　a　development　which　Bill　had　not　foreseen；　and　he　was　feeling　baffled。　What　was　the　next　step？　He　had　smoked　many　pipes　in　the　endeavour　to　find　an　answer　to　this　problem；　and　was　lighting　another　when　the　door…bell　rang。
　He　opened　the　door　and　found　himself　confronting　an　extraordinarily　tall　and　thin　young　man　in　evening…dress。
　Lord　Dawlish　was　a　little　startled。　He　had　taken　it　for　granted；　when　the　bell　rang；　that　his　visitor　was　Tom；　the　liftman　from　downstairs；　a　friendly　soul　who　hailed　from　London　and　had　been　dropping　in