Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

"It is not so bad as I thought," she said. "Jane was more frightened than hurt. Fancy a big stout girl like her fainting because some not very hot water fell on her foot! And what have you been talking about all this time?"

"I was just asking Miss Hardy how the Leytons take the change in her prospects," replied Balmaine carelessly; "if they are as kind as they were when she was regarded as an undoubted heiress."

"The very question I was going to ask her myself. It must make a difference. If the Leytons are not kind to you, dear-if you are not comfortable-you must come here. Make your home with us. Nothing would give Mrs. Maitland and me more pleasure."

"A thousand thanks, Cora dear. You are really too kind; and I need hardly say that I would rather be your lodger than the Leytons' guest. But I do not feel that I ought to leave them just now, even if I could as to which, being a minor, I am not quite sure. Whatever may be their motive, Sir James and Lady Leyton have been very kind to me, and are so still. When Sir James told me of what he called the weak point in my armour, which the Fortune Company have discovered, I said at once that I must set about earning my own living. But he would not hear of it-seemed almost angry indeed-and said that until the court decides otherwise I am the heiress and his ward and must remain his guest. I have, therefore, no alternative. But once the case is decided against me, and I think it will be, I shall certainly come away. I could not bear to be dependent on the Leytons-nor on anybody else."

"You are quite right. You have no need to be dependent on them," said Cora warmly. "Have you any idea how soon you will know your fate?"

"No; but I hope soon. I have asked Sir James that no unnecessary delays may be interposed, and he has promised that he will use his influence in that sense with Mr. Artful."

And so the talk went on, but not for very long. The carriage came earlier than usual. There was to be feasting that evening in Grosvenor Square, and Lady Leyton had asked Vera to be back in good time. So she went out of the room with Cora "to put her things on." When the two returned, a few minutes later, Balmaine saw at a glance that his cousin knew all.

"Well, you are a nice pair," she said, in

spite of her doubts pleased, though dubious withal as to the prudence of an engagement in present circumstances. "You choose the very moment when one is suffering from a reverse of fortune and the other is perhaps on the point of losing her inheritance to become engaged! All the same, I am very glad, and wish you every happiness. But how do you propose to keep a wife, Alfred?"

"I think I can," was the confident reply. "I am not doing badly, and you said only just now that you thought I should do well."

[ocr errors]

Always sanguine," put in Cora with a

smile.

"You forget me, I think, Miss Balmaine," exclaimed Vera proudly, and with more than pretended warmth. "Whatever happens, I shall not be dependent on Alfred. Do you forget what that nice gentleman-Mr. Roberts is not his name? at Peter, Paul, and Piper's said when you introduced me to him as Miss Leonini? He said I could easily earn five or six guineas a week with my sketches. There now!"

"And if the worst comes to the worst," added Alfred gaily, "we can do as you and George are doing-wait and hope."

"

CHAPTER LXVI.-FAILURE AND SUCCESS.

THE Leytons were not, as may be supposed, altogether disinterested in refusing to Ĩet Vera go. Their motives were rather mixed. They felt instinctively that it would look mean and expose them to unpleasant remark if they turned their backs on the girl the moment her prospects worsenedafter they had made so much of her too. Then, again, Lady Leyton, in her selfish, indolent way, liked Vera-her presence made the house brighter, and it was pleasant to have her to talk with and to read aloud, take her on shopping excursions, and consult on the all-important question of dress, for Lady Leyton had discovered that her young guest was gifted with exceptionally good taste. It had even occurred to her ladyship that if Vera should lose her fortune it might be well to engage her as a permanent companion and secretary-at a good salary, of course, for the Leytons were not stingy people. The arrangement would both contribute to her own comfort and gain her credit with her friends generally and the world at large.

Sir James had also a personal reason for desiring to keep Vera. He hated to breakfast alone, and if she went away that would

be his fate for at least six mornings in the week.

Husband and wife of course talked the matter over.

"It is very well," said Sir James, after they had arrived unanimously at the conclusion that Vera should continue as their guest and be treated-for the present at least-as she had been. "It is very well that Sydney has not made any advances-and I rather pressed him to do."

"I look upon it as quite providential," answered the lady. "Of course he won't think of such a thing now."

"Of course not. Trust Syd; he is too wideawake for that. I wish he would get done sowing his wild oats though." "Marriage would steady him, don't you think?"

"Very likely. But wait a bit. Vera will perhaps get her fortune after all. It will be a dreadful shame if she does not."

The worthy couple little thought that their son had proposed to Vera twice and been refused each time.

Sydney Leyton was far from being a man of noble nature; but even ignoble natures may have generous impulses. He felt his first repulse keenly, for though he did not love Vera passionately, he liked her well, and respected her even more than he liked her; and he inferred from her manner when he made his first proposal that she rather despised him. So when he heard that she was likely to be bereft of her fortune he resolved to ask her a second time to be his wife, if only to show her that he was not the frivolous fortune-hunter she thought him. If she accepted him he would stand to his guns, whatever his father and mother might say, and if she did not he would have the satisfaction of knowing that he had behaved well and deserved Vera's good opi

nion.

She refused him, as he had rather feared --perhaps if he had analysed his motives rigidly he would have said hoped-but in a very different fashion from the first timeseriously, and with many expressions of sympathy and regret. She could not love him, she said from no fault of his-and to marry a man whom she did not love would be a double wrong, a wrong to him and a wrong to her; but she should always take the warmest interest in his welfare, and hoped to see him one day a Member of Parliament and a great man.

It is probable that the refusal so graciously given pleased Sydney quite as much XXVIII-55

as an acceptance would have done. He expressed a hope that they should always remain firm friends, and assured Vera that he would do his very best to protect her interest and defeat the machinations of Saintly Sam.

It was partly out of consideration for Sydney that Vera wanted to keep secret her betrothal to Balmaine. It might hurt his feelings, she thought, if he were to know that almost the day after she refused him she had accepted another.

Before Alfred left for Italy the lovers had one more stolen interview-short but sweet contrived by Cora. It was agreed that during his absence, which he was to make as short as might be, they were to write to each other as often as possible.

"Write to me at Grosvenor Square," said Vera; "I have so many letters that one more or less will never be noticed, and nobody but myself so much as glances at the outside of them."

And so they parted, and Balmaine went on his way; but his second visit to Italy was no more successful than his first had been. He made first for Balafria, where Philip Hardy and Vera Leonino were married, and knowing from the former's letters to his father the date of the marriage, he had no difficulty in ascertaining who, at the time in question, was the parish priest. Everything depended on his finding this man, for if he had not himself solemnised the marriage, he would doubtless know who had. But Alfred failed to find him. After the war and the fire Father Ariosto-for so he was called-had gone to another part of the country-to Livorno, thought the syndic of Balafria. Alfred went to Livorno, and after a good deal of trouble found that the syndic was right. It appeared, however, that from Livorno Father Ariosto had gone somewhere else, and Balmaine followed on his traces from place to place until he reached Genoa, where he learnt that the reverend gentleman had embarked on board a vessel bound for the Southern Seas, with the intention of proceeding thither as a missionary; but as the ship ran ashore on a cannibal island, and there was reason to believe that all the ship's company-except an able-bodied seaman, who alone escaped to tell the tale-were either drowned or eaten-possibly both-it did not seem likely that the priest would be available as a witness in the suit of Hardy against Hardy, and to this effect Alfred advised Artful and Higginbottom. As for the other witnesses-and there were beyond

doubt two-he failed to find out their names, and could not, therefore, very well find out them, nor did he, albeit he advertised extensively in divers Italian papers. Yet notwithstanding Alfred's failure in the main object of his expectation, it had two important consequences. Wherever he went he was struck by the abject poverty of the masses of the Italian people, and he wrote some letters on the subject, which pleased the editor of the Day and rather startled his readers. They gave so much satisfaction, indeed, that he was requested to continue them, and with that object visited the south, and in an interesting series of articles he was able to show the close connection which obtained between the indigence of the people and the twin curses of brigandage and the Mafia and the Camorra, and other secret societies of black-mailers, which the authorities, in spite of their utmost efforts, were unable to suppress.

When Mr. Manifold thought the British public had had enough of this sort of thing he instructed Balmaine (who for the previous six weeks had been acting exclusively for the Day) to return to London, informing him at the same time that the proprietors and the manager and himself were so pleased with his letters that they were prepared, on terms which he would learn on his arrival, to offer him a permanent place on the paper. Nothing could well be more satisfactory, and the young fellow was naturally in high feather, as well by reason of the improvement in his prospects as on account of the handsome manner in which his employers had recognised his services. Altogether he profited greatly by his Italian journey, and no less in experience than in pocket and reputation. But there is a drawback to everything, and he feared that his new duties would be incompatible with his retention of the editorship of Mr. Wilkins's financial journal. If he had to sacrifice one, however, it would certainly not be the Day.

CHAPTER LXVII.-HAMMER AND TONGS.

DURING his absence in Italy Balmaine wrote to Vera regularly and often; owing to the uncertainty of his movements, however, she wrote less regularly to him; some of the letters she did write he never received, and when he reached London he had been without news from her for more than three weeks in his love-heated imagination quite an age. Boiling over with impatience he rushed off to Bloomsbury Square-albeit the time was unconscionably early for a call, and he had

not yet reported himself at the office of the Day. He feared that his letters had miscarried or been suppressed. He would ask Cora to see Vera that very afternoon, and arrange for a tryst later on in the day.

"Is Miss Balmaine in?" he asked the not very intelligent maid who answered the bell, and, without waiting for a reply, went to the room in which his cousin was wont to do her literary work.

Cora was not there; but somebody else was. "Vera!"

"Alfred!"

[merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

"Yes; I have left the Leytons, and see (pointing to some sketches that lay on the table), "I am earning my own living."

"But what has happened? Tell me all about it, for in an hour I should be at the office of the Day."

But

Vera told him all about it. As she said laughingly, he was the cause of all the trouble. Their secret had been discovered, by one of those accidents which so often mar the best-laid schemes. The greater part of her letters came by the first delivery, and were always lying on the table when she went down to breakfast. Those that came later were sent up to her room. one morning several which came by the second delivery were placed by mistake in the breakfast-room, and when Sydney Leyton entered at his usually late hour he found them on the table, near his own. Lazily looking over the addresses, without any particular motive, he noticed that one of the letters bore the post-mark of Genoa.

"Who on earth can be writing to her from Genoa?" he soliloquised. "An English hand too. Some beggar, I suppose."

The next day he called at Artful and Higginbottom's office to ask about the progress of the suit, when the head of the firm showed him Balmaine's letter from Genoa announcing the failure of his quest.

"The same handwriting and the same place, by Jove!" he thought. "What can it mean? Are those two carrying on a correspondence, I wonder? I must find out."

By keeping a sharp look out on the letters delivered by the postman, and occasionally overhauling the contents of the letter-box in the hall, he was not long in arriving

at the conviction that Vera and Balmaine were carrying on a lively correspondence.

Now, albeit Vera's denial of his suit had not broken his heart, the thought that he had been rejected in favour of so obscure and impecunious a rival as Alfred Balmaine riled Sydney exceedingly. It seemed to him, moreover, that Vera was not acting sincerely, and he straightway informed his father of the discovery he had made and the suspicions it suggested.

Sir James was very angry, and when angry he was apt to be coarse and use rather strong language.

"Confound the fellow!" he exclaimed; "I will stop this, and pretty quickly. You did right to tell me, Sydney. I could not have believed that Vera was capable of such deceit I might almost say of such base ingratitude."

He opened the attack when they met the next morning at breakfast.

"You are corresponding with that Alfred Balmaine, Vera," said the knight abruptly. "What are your relations with the fellow?" "Sir James!" exclaimed the girl, for the moment quite confounded by the suddenness of the question.

"You do not seem to understand. I ask what are your relations with this Balmaine, to whom you write so often?"

"We are betrothed," said Vera quietly, recovering by an effort her self-possession.

"You are! Well, I call it a piece of base ingratitude to go and get engaged without my knowledge and consent. It must be put a stop to."

"Pardon me, Sir James, that cannot be. I am sorry to displease you, but this is a matter about which you must allow me to please myself."

"Am I to understand, then, that you refuse to give this absurd engagement up?" "Decidedly. Not for all the world would I give it up."

"In that case you cannot stay here," returned the knight furiously.

"As you like, Sir James," said Vera, rising from her chair and turning pale.

"Besides, don't you see that the fellow wants only your money? A beggarly journalist without a brass farthing to bless himself with! He is just speculating on the chance of the suit going in your favour. I understand now the cause of those frequent visits to Bloomsbury Square. I little thought that Miss Balmaine was a mercenary matchmaker."

With a single indignant glance at Sir

James, but without offering a word in reply, Vera left the room. Half an hour later she left the house.

"Did I do right?" she asked Alfred when she had told her story to the end.

"Quite right," he answered warmly. "You could not have done less, and it would have been a mistake to answer Sir James's insults. But are you as happy here as you were at Grosvenor Square, Vera?"

"Happier. I am free here; I can live my own life, and I could not there. And, do you know, I find it a real pleasure to earn money. Look here" (showing a cheque for £10 10s.), "I received this only yesterday for some sketches."

"I congratulate you," laughed Alfred. "Why, if you go on at this rate you will become a millionaire by your own efforts. But where is Gabrielle ?"

Gabrielle, said Vera, was staying with Lady Layton, as her maid. Lady Leyton had called upon Vera the day after she left, and tried to persuade her to go back. But with this request-though Lady Leyton pressed it, and said her husband had been too hasty-she found it impossible to comply. After the scene with Sir James she could not bring herself to accept his hospitality, and greatly preferred to be with Cora.

"If for no other reason, because we can see each other oftener, mon cher ami," she said with an affectionate glance at her lover. "You can come here, but you could not go to Grosvenor Square.'

[ocr errors]

There had been a question of asking the Lord Chancellor to order her to return thither; but seeing that Sir James Leyton had told her in effect to go, that she would soon be of age, and that the suit was not likely to last very long, he thought it better not to persevere with the project. From Bloomsbury Square, whither he promised to return in the evening, Alfred went into the City and waited on Mr. Nonpareil. The manager received him with great cordiality, and after complimenting him warmly on his letters, said that if Balmaine liked to take a permanent post on the paper he could offer him six pounds a week, to begin with; but the staff being very full just then they could not find him very much to do; what that was he would learn from the editor. He would probably be asked from time to time to write articles on special subjects, review books, and so forth, and he must hold himself in readiness to proceed to any part of the world at very short notice. He could not, of course, contribute to any other daily

paper; but for the rest he would be free to dispose of his own time in his own way. Alfred accepted the offer and the conditions at once and left the office in great spirits, for, save in the event of his being dispatched on some distant expedition, he would be able both to fulfil his duties on the Day and conduct the Financial Guide-perhaps do other work as well. He was thus, as touching income, in quite as good a position as if he had remained at Geneva, and there were surely a wider field and better chances of advancement on the banks of the Thames than in the pleasant yet somewhat sleepy city of the lake.

From the Day office Balmaine went to Artful and Higginbottom and had a long talk with Mr. Artful and Warton. The Hardy estate, as he already knew, had been put into Chancery, that is to say, the executors were acting under the direction of the Court, and had, so to speak, become its agents. Miss Hardy's claim to the property was being hotly contested by the Fortune Company, interrogatories and answers put and given, affidavits filed, motions made by counsel, and altogether the suit was progressing very satisfactorily for the lawyers. "We are at it, hammer and tongs," said Warton.

"And what are the probabilities, Mr. Artful?" asked Balmaine.

The old lawyer lifted his eyebrows and took a pinch of snuff.

"Difficult to say; but in the absence of conclusive proofs of the marriage, I very much fear that Miss Vera will not get her fortune just yet; and I begin to believe her grandfather was the Calder man after all."

"Saintly Sam will get it then," exclaimed Balmaine. "They say he has bought up so many shares in the Fortune Company that he and it are pretty much the same thing." "He stands a very fair chance, I think. All the same, we mean to prevent him-if we can. And one of their witnesses-a fellow of the name of Murgatroyd-has so palpably perjured himself that it will cause the court to look with suspicion on the other man's evidence. Mr. Murgatroyd has committed the fault of being too precise. He takes oath that he saw the late Mr. Hardy on a day which he cannot specify, but in a month and year about which he is quite sure, at his office in London. Now the late Mr. Hardy was a very exact man, and kept a business diary wherein all his movements are carefully recorded; and from this diary it appears that at the time in question he was on the

Continent. So Murgatroyd's evidence amounts to nothing at all. If it were worth while we would prosecute him for perjury. But the other witness, Clutterbuck, is dangerous. From all accounts he is a respectable old fellow, and according to his affidavit was a close friend of the Calder John Hardy, when they were both young. When the latter went to London he went to Manchester, but in after life he met John Hardy more than once, and swears that he is our John Hardy and no other. He even produces a letter from him, which appears to have contained a remittance; for Clutterbuck, being at the time in needy circumstances, had applied to his old companion for help. And that is not all. The gift is duly entered in the late Mr. Hardy's private cash book."

"Saintly Sam has a good case then?" "It looks so, and unless we can persuade the Vice-Chancellor to accept as sufficient the indirect yet morally unimpeachable proofs of Philip Hardy's marriage which we are able to produce-have produced, in fact-we stand a very good chance of being beaten. But we are not beaten yet. The witnesses you could not find may possibly be forthcoming, and Warton is going down to Calder to look into the antecedents of the other John Hardy. Time is all in our favour, and if we can get the better of Saintly Sam and his crew I think Miss Vera may come into her fortune even yet.”

Balmaine left the lawyer's office in much soberer mood than he had left the office of the Day, for though his love for Vera was pure and disinterested, and the loss of her fortune would cause him no distress, it was not pleasant to think that it might become the possession of "Saintly Sam and his crew," though probably little more than the jackal's share would be left for the crew. That was a lame and impotent conclusion indeed, and Vera and Cora, when he talked the matter over with them in the evening, were greatly excited by the news he had brought.

"And they call this English law!" exclaimed Vera indignantly. "For the slur cast on my father and mother's memory I care nothing. They regarded each other as husband and wife, and that is enough for me. But if this Mr. Samuel Hardy inherits the fortune destined by my grandfather for my father and by my father for me, it will be an infamy, a travesty of justice. I would rather give it to that crossing-sweeper in the street there, or scatter it broadcast to be scrambled for by beggars-anything rather than bestow it on this unprincipled scheming Calder cotton-spinner."

« ZurückWeiter »