The Coxon Fund

ons who lived near Durham. The current of travel back to London wasn’t yet strong; at any rate on entering the compartment I found he had had it for some time to himself. We fared in

occasion, an absence of curiosity invidious. He mentioned that he was worried about his good old friend Lady Coxon, who, wit

Anvoy’s i

to horrid straits — ha

, but I eventually said: “I hope that

got very bad, then she got much better. Then Mr. Anvoy suddenly began to totter, and now he seems quite on his back. I’m afraid he’s really in for some big reverse. Lad

ven’t lost her

ther things to smooth; but the old lady, save for her servants, is really alone. She won’t receive her Coxon relati

at made me ask if she hadn’t such an appreciation of Mrs

ut by the time we got to Doncaster the principal thing he had let me see was that he was keeping something back. We stopped at that station, and, at the carriage-door, some one made a movement to get in. Gravener uttered a sound of impatience, and I felt sure that but for this I should have had the secret. Then the intruder, for some reason, spared us his company; we started afresh, and my hope of a disclosure returned. My companion held his tongue, however, and I pretended to go to sleep; in fact I really dozed for discouragement. When I reopened my eyes he was looking at me with an injured air. He tossed away with some vivacity the remnant of a cigarette and then said: “If you’re not too sleepy I want to put you a case.” I answered that I’d make every effort to attend, and welcomed the note of interest when he went on:

e between you? I decide i

y will interest you only so far as your mind isn’t made up.” Gravener puffed his cigarette

?” I was at

xon’s phrase. She h

hes to e

. This sum of money, no less than thirteen thousand pounds, was to be called The Coxon Fund; and poor Sir Gregory evidently proposed to himself that The Coxon Fund should cover his name with glory — be universally desired and admired. He left his wife a full declaration of his views, so far at least as that term may be applied to views vitiated by a vagueness really infantine. A little learn

est loyal

light that’s in it to shine upon the human race. The individual, in a word, who, having t

arch fo

That’s what Sir

ightful munificent Sir Gre

s Anvoy

candidate f

ble about it. But Lady Coxon has put the matter b

erestingly intimated, has la

re’s something in

nsider ther

equences certainly grotesque and possibly immoral. To begin with, fancy constituting

ribunal is

she chooses

s invited y

ft her is simply his tribute to her beautiful, her aboriginal enthusiasm. She came to England forty years ago, a thin transcendental Bostonian, and even her odd happy frumpy Clockborough marriage never really materialised her. She feels indeed t

e cling if

mpostor — how should she, with the life she has led? — her husband’s intention has come very near lapsing. His idea, to do him justice, was that it SHOULD lapse if exact

with avidity. “And if she dies without doing a

y, if she hasn’t made some

at then — she

etion. The proof is that three months ago she

Anvoy’s

was afraid of making a mistake; every one she could think of seemed either not earnest enough or not poor enough. On the receipt of the first bad

ss Anvoy

s a forma

mmitting herself legal

man frustrated,” said Gravener. “She only consen

for that?” I asked

an American accent, a transcendental aunt and an insolvent father; but all my old loyalty to him mustered to meet this unexpected hint that I could help him. I saw that I could from the insincere tone in which he pursued: “I’ve criticised her of course, I’ve contended with her, and it has been great fun.” Yet it clearly couldn’t have been such great fun as to make it improper for me presently to ask if Miss Anvoy had nothing at all settled on herself. To this he replied that she had only a trifle from her mother — a mere four hundred a year, which was exactly why it would be convenient to him that she shouldn’t decline, in the face of this total change in her prospects, an accession of income which

ication of lights. “I think you’ll find,” I said with a laugh, “that your pred

. “Who can set a limit to the in

alled the extravagance commemorated in Adelaide