My Lady Bountiful by Fred M. White

A bronze gong jangled under Cedric's unaccustomed hand, and he wished for the ship's bell again. But then the ship's bell was still at Beacon Lodge, and Mrs. Eldred-Wolfram was back at Caradoc again. The whole thing had been rushed through so quickly that Cedric could not grip it as yet. The baleful shadow of the journalist no longer obscured the family glory, and Caradoc was almost itself again.

But not quite, as Cedric acknowledged sadly. There had been no quarrel, nothing in the way of a vulgar dispute; the twins had simply refused to go back bound hard and fast to the clannish wheels of the conqueror, and Kathleen had backed them up. For the present they were all at Beacon Lodge, with the exception of Margaret who had gone where duty had taken her. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Eldred-Wolfram had missed the young people terribly, and indeed they had not opposed her without considerable searching of spirit. So the elderly lady had gone back to her own again with a new sense of dignity and a wider scope than she had ever enjoyed before. The discovery of that wonderful document had changed everything. The family lawyers wondered why it had never been unearthed before, wondered how dead and gone Wolframs had ignored it. If they had not done so, Caradoc would have changed hands long ago.