Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, page 79 by Various Authors
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re," he said gently. "Certainly. Your grandfather has made no conditions whatever. Brackenhill is yours for your life."
Horace looked fixedly at him, and half opened his lips as if to speak, but no sound came. It was so evident that he had something to say that the others waited in strained anxiety, and no one spoke except Mrs. James. She laid her fingers on his and said, "Now--why not now?"
"Leave me to manage it," he answered, and drew his hand away, provoking a lofty "Oh, very well!" He walked hurriedly to the hearth-rug and stood in the master's place with an air of having taken possession. Hardwicke moved his chair a little, so as to look sideways at the new squire: Hammond put up his glass.
Mrs. James was like a living explanation of the text, "As an adamant harder than flint have I made thy forehead." Though she was sulky and persistently silent, there was a lurking triumph in her eyes, and it was easy to see that she listened eagerly for the words which seemed to die on her son's lips. He glanced quickly round, stepped back, and rested his elbow on the chimney-piece so awkwardly that a small china cup fell and was shivered to atoms on the hearth.
"Oh, Horace!" exclaimed Aunt Harriet.
"It's mine," said the young man with a nervous little laugh. "And--since Brackenhill is mine too--it is time that my wife should come home."
There was a startled movement and a sudden exclamation of surprise, though it would have been impossible to say who moved or spoke.
"Your wife! Do you mean that you are going to be married?" said Hardwicke.
"No. I mean that I am married," Horace replied. "Oh, it's all right enough. I took care of that. You shall know all about it."
"But how? when? who is she?" Mrs. Middleton had her hand on his arm and was stammering in her eagerness. "Oh, my dear boy, why didn't we know?"
"Because Mrs. Horace Thorne was Miss Adelaide Blake," said Hammond decisively.
Horace turned upon him and said "No," and he was utte