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The place had been 'managed' and the cottage rents collected by the detested agent Oliver Leach, a fact which did not sweeten such remembrance of the Vancourts as still existed in the minds of the people. However, nothing in the general aspect and mental attitude of the village had altered very much since the early thirties, except the church.
The hated, petty upstart who had ground down the Abbot's Manor tenantry to the very last penny that could be wrested from them! who had destroyed old cherished land-marks, and made ugly havoc in many once fair woodland places in order to put money in his own pocket, even he, so long an object of aversion among them, was the would-be murderer of the last descendant of the Vancourts!
Rest he had been accustomed to take many solitary walks through the lovely woods surrounding the Vancourts' residence, without any fear of being considered a trespasser, and he had even strolled through the wide, old-fashioned gardens with as little restraint as though they had belonged to himself, Mrs.
The ancient history of the Vancourts he knew as well as he knew the priceless archaeological value of their old Manor-house as a perfect gem of unspoilt Tudor architecture, but though he had traced the descent of the family from Robert Priaulx de Vaignecourt of the twelfth century and his brother Osmonde Priaulx de Vaignecourt who had, it was rumoured, founded a monastery in the neighbourhood, and had died during a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, he had ceased to follow the genealogical tree with much attention or interest when the old Norman name of De Vaignecourt had degenerated into De Vincourt and finally in the times of James I. had settled down into Vancourt.
The dining-room of Abbot's Manor was not a light apartment, -its oak-panelled walls and raftered ceiling created shadow rather than luminance, and though the windows were large and lofty, rising from the floor to the cornice, their topmost panes were of very old stained glass, so that the brightest sunshine only filtered, as it were, through the deeply-encrusted hues of rose and amber and amethyst squares, painted with the arms of the Vancourts, and heraldic emblems of bygone days.
John Walden stood for a quiet three minutes, studying the picture intently and also the superscription: "Mary Elia Adelgisa de Vaignecourt, Born May 1st, 1651: Wedded her cousin, Geoffrey de Vaignecourt, June 5th, 1671: Died May 30th, 1681." "Not a very long life!" he mused: "All the Vaignecourts, or Vancourts, have died somewhat early." He let his eyes rest again on the portrait lingeringly.
"It is home!" she said; "And I have not been in a home for years! Aunt Emily's houses were never 'home. And this is MY home my very own; the home of our family for generations. I ought to be proud of it, and I WILL be proud of it! Even Aunt Emily used to say that Abbot's Manor was a standing proof of the stuck-up pride of the Vancourts! I'm sure I shall find plenty to do here.
It IS so absurd to boast of one's ancestry! If we could only just see the dreadful men who began all the great families, we should be perfectly ashamed of them! Most of them tore up their food with their fingers. Now we Vancourts are supposed to be descended from a warrior bold, named Robert Priaulx de Vaignecourt, who fought in the Crusades. Poor Uncle Fred used to be so proud of that!
Leveson stayed his bicycle a moment, wobbling on it uneasily. "Lumpton goes back a good way," he said airily; "I shall take him up when I have gone through the history of the Vancourts. I'm on that scent now. I shall make a good bit of business directly Miss Vancourt returns; she'll pay for anything that will help her to stiffen her back and put more side on." "Really!" ejaculated Walden, coldly.
But if you remember the pictures in the gallery at the Manor, sir, you may call to mind one of the ancestresses of the Vancourts, painted in a vi'let velvet; ridin' dress and holdin' a huntin' crop, and the name underneath is 'Mary Ella Adelgisa de Vaignecourt' and it was after her that the old Squire called his daughter Maryllia, rollin' the two fust names, Mary Elia, into one, as it were, just to make a name what none of his forebears had ever had.
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