ERNEST ROGER HALBARD MELTON’S RECORD.

January 4, 1907.

The reading of Uncle Roger’s Will is over.  Father got a duplicate of Mr. Trent’s letter to me, and of the cable and two telegrams pasted into this Record.  We both waited patiently till the third—that is, we did not say anything.  The only impatient member of our family was my mother.  She did say things, and if old Trent had been here his ears would have been red.  She said what ridiculous nonsense it was delaying the reading of the Will, and keeping the Heir waiting for the arrival of an obscure person who wasn’t even a member of the family, inasmuch as he didn’t bear the name.  I don’t think it’s quite respectful to one who is some day to be Head of the House!  I thought father was weakening in his patience when he said: “True, my dear—true!” and got up and left the room.  Some time afterwards when I passed the library I heard him walking up and down.

Father and I went up to town on the afternoon of Wednesday, January 2.  We stayed, of course, at Claridge’s, where we always stay when we go to town.  Mother wanted to come, too, but father thought it better not.  She would not agree to stay at home till we both promised to send her separate telegrams after the reading.

At five minutes to eleven we entered Mr. Trent’s office.  Father would not go a moment earlier, as he said it was bad form to seem eager at any time, but most of all at the reading of a will.  It was a rotten grind, for we had to be walking all over the neighbourhood for half an hour before it was time, not to be too early.

When we went into the room we found there General Sir Colin MacKelpie and a big man, very bronzed, whom I took to be Rupert St. Leger—not a very creditable connection to look at, I thought!  He and old MacKelpie took care to be in time!  Rather low, I thought it.  Mr. St. Leger was reading a letter.  He had evidently come in but lately, for though he seemed to be eager about it, he was only at the first page, and I could see that there were many sheets.  He did not look up when we came in, or till he had finished the letter; and you may be sure that neither I nor my father (who, as Head of the House, should have had more respect from him) took the trouble to go to him.  After all, he is a pauper and a wastrel, and he has not the honour of bearing our Name.  The General, however, came forward and greeted us both cordially.  He evidently had forgotten—or pretended to have—the discourteous way he once treated me, for he spoke to me quite in a friendly way—I thought more warmly than he did to father.  I was pleased to be spoken to so nicely, for, after all, whatever his manners may be, he is a distinguished man—has won the V.C. and a Baronetcy.  He got the latter not long ago, after the Frontier War in India.  I was not, however, led away into cordiality myself.  I had not forgotten his rudeness, and I thought that he might be sucking up to me.  I knew that when I had my dear Uncle Roger’s many millions I should be a rather important person; and, of course, he knew it too.  So I got even with him for his former impudence.  When he held out his hand I put one finger in it, and said, “How do?”  He got very red and turned away.  Father and he had ended by glaring at each other, so neither of us was sorry to be done with him.  All the time Mr. St. Leger did not seem to see or hear anything, but went on reading his letter.  I thought the old MacSkelpie was going to bring him into the matter between us, for as he turned away I heard him say something under his breath.  It sounded like “Help!” but Mr. S--- did not hear.  He certainly no notice of it.

As the MacS--- and Mr. S--- sat quite silent, neither looking at us, and as father was sitting on the other side of the room with his chin in his hand, and as I wanted to show that I was indifferent to the two S’s, I took out this notebook, and went on with the Record, bringing it up to this moment.