and forming their character by wise counsel he did his
best to get hold of the fortune by buying and selling land in his own
name and investing capital in such a manner as to cover up the traces
of the real ownership. It seems that such practices can be successful
if one is charming enough to dazzle one's own wife permanently and brave
enough to defy the vain terrors of public opinion. The critical time
came when the elder of the boys on attaining his majority in the year
1811 asked for the accounts and some part at least of the inheritance
to begin life upon. It was then that the stepfather declared with
calm finality that there were no accounts to render and no property to
inherit. The whole fortune was his very own. He was very good-natured
about the young man's misapprehension of the true state of affairs, but
of course felt obliged to maintain his position firmly. Old friends
came and went busily, voluntary mediators appeared travelling on most
horrible roads from the most distant corners of the three provinces;
and the Marshal of the Nobility (ex-officio guardian of all well-born
orphans) called a meeting of landowners to "ascertain in a friendly
way how the misunderstanding between X and his stepsons had arisen and
devise proper measures to remove the same." A deputation to that effect
visited X, who treated them to excellent wines, but absolutely refused
his ear to their remonstrances. As to the proposals for arbitration he
simply laughed at them; yet the whole province must have been aware
that fourteen years before, when he married the widow, all his
visible fortune consisted (apart from his social qualities) in a smart
four-horse turn-out with two servants, with whom he went about visiting
from house to house; and as to any funds he might have possessed at that
time their existence could only be inferred from the fact that he was
very punctual in settling his modest losses at cards. But by the magic
power of stubborn and constant assertion, there were found presently,
here and there, people who mumbled that surely "there must be something
in it." However, on his next name-day (which he used to celebrate by
a great three-days' shooting-party), of all the invited crowd only two
guests turned up, distant neighbours of no importance; one notoriously a
fool, and the other a very pious and honest person but such a passionate
lover of the gun that on his own confession he could not have refused
an invitation to a sho