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THc Engag^cmcnt. The curtain fell on the second act of Tristan und Isolde, and Udy Stoakley, who had been regarding he stage with a rigid and unmeaning eye, and sit- ting very upright, leaned back iu her chair iu the corner of the box, and, opening her fan, began to wave It to and fro, less with the object of cooling !ir W / rf ^ J""^ "ight u.ia a temperature like that of midwmter in the polar regions-than t:pC^' '^"^^^ "^^-^' ^^^ «h--^ as she length o her companion, in a rather fretful voice, Mr M ""^^ '' ""^ ""°^^^ a particular toy. honI''.^''''^f """'^^ ^^^ "°^ ^^ase examining the pnS'^nl::;;i^:^f:^':/^— !f'^^^^^^^ glasses, and if we had a million 9 10 The Money Market. pounds each we should all wish we had another. Though I am not grasping, not really grasping I mean, I never yet had a thing I liked withoul wanting another of the same, and I should think that would be particularly the case with a million pounds. Those large round sums must be so satis- factory. Just like big pearls." "Nonsense, a million is enough for anybody. It is even eno'igh for two," said Udy Stoakley, so sharply that Mrs. Montgomery put down her glasses. 'I You are thinking of Percy Gerard? " she asked. ''Of course I am. So are you. We all are. It is supposed to be vulgar to desire or to envy wealth. That is one of those absurd delusious which are confined to the wealthy. In my opinion, it is infinitely more vulgar to pretend not to desire it, besides which no one will believe that one does not. As for the nouvcaux riches^ it is absurd to pose as despising them. Who was it who remarked so excellently that there was no real difference between them and the old poor? " " I don't know who said it. What did he say, in any case? I should have thought there was all the difference in the world between them. ' ' "No; one seeks to get position by means of Its wealth, the other seeks to get wealth by means of its position. It Is quite true : there is nothing to choose between them." Mrs. Montgomery suddenly took up her opera I The Moiiry Xfarkcl. U „l!.?'' I' "V'*'"'"" P""' '"■' 8"n to tl,e shoulder when a bird nses, and let fly a snap-shot into a '.ox opiK>s,te. She jn.t then, down again with an air of d.sapponilment, as if she had missed. There is something in that," she said, "but wZ 'V,'°';^''^'"''"e '» "• P-»' Lord Lanborne, hose bbod ,s so bine that he always looks as if lie was freezmg, hasn't succeeded very well He was made a director of son.e mine, you know.desir- ng to get wealth, I suppose, by means of hi.; posi- t.on, and, being conscientious, he thought he ought or whoever ,t was, and see the mine. He is one a sh"t TtlT^'" ?^""- ^"' '- f^" down a shaft, I thmk they call it, and broke his leg tYvT "/"f S'" "'- ™™Pany broke too, a fd they say the fracture is compound " I' Which-h.-s leg or the company?" ing h:r glasTes." "'' ''"• ^^°"'g°"-y. «g-n sei.- Lady Stoakley laughed. shrSd'"'^"Tt '''"P^"^'^^^ f^i^"^-^S that is all," sue said. If you instance the failure to a rule you reverse the rule." ' ATr7M r'^^'''''" '''"'^'"^ ""^^^" f^'V' murmured Mr .Montgomery. '< Percy Gerard will never fail. 1 here he is ; he has just come into the house How absurdly young he looks. ' ' ^^ ''He is absurdly young," said Udy Stoaklev • he IS only twenty-four, and you see by his grand-' 12 The Money Market. father's will he doesn't come of age till next year That was so ingenious of old Mr. Gerard; it gives hmi four extra years. I wish somebody would give me four extra years and a million pounds But why do you class him among the nouveaux riches f'' " I don't know. I suppose because he is so rich That sort of fortune can't last long, and so it must \>^nouveau. Oh, yes, don't correct me. I know I have contradicted myself. Is it true that he is engaged to Lady Sybil?" "So her mother says," remarked Udy Stoaklev acidly. ^ ' "No doubt. Her mother would say anything Now, I like Lady Otterbourne ; there is no nonsense about her. She knows what she likes, and she says so." "She doesn't like me," said Lady Stoakley, in a meditative tone. "No, dear, and she says so," remarked Mrs. Montgomery, signalling violently to Percy Gerard Oh, dear ! there is the bell, and I wanted to talk to Percy. How tiresome this opera is ! It always begins again when one is talking, like the trains that always go on when one is in the refreshment rooms. I always wondered why she didn't like yoii. Are you going on to L)nn House later ? Yes ? Let us go together. " Lady Stoakley gave the last act only a scant attention. She thought Wagner as a whole was The Money Market. 13 ugly, and she thought this particular opera tedious and unmelodious. But it was a gala night,— Jean de Retzke was singing, princes and princesses and stars and garters were like the sand of the sea-shore for number, and it was a matter of course to be there. Also Mrs. K ntgomery had distinctly been rubbing her the wiong way. She knew, and all London knew, why I^ady Otter- bourne disliked her, and all lyondon knew that she resented and returned the dislike with great frankness and no show of dissimulation. She had tried deliberately and purposely— so thought Ivady Otterbourne and the world in general— to catch Percy Gerard for her own daughter, Blanche. He was desirable in every way ; she liked him ; she believed him pre-eminently upright and respect- able ; and he was enormously wealthy. Those who were not fond of Lady Stoakley were free to believe that this last qualification was the only essential she demanded, and, with that candour which delights in stating malicious things, they said so. But in this they erred. She liked him, and she liked his millions ; and she liked them each for their own sakes. Which she liked the best, it is beside the mark to enquire ; but an uncharitable assumption would be entirely out of place. Just before the curtain rose the door of the box opened and Lord Stoakley came in, but neither of the ladies took the slightest notice of him, and he did not appear surprised. He was a man of chronic 14 The Money Market. and extreme middle-age, equally removed from youth and old age ; and, as far as the memory of his friends served them, he had never been other- wise. He could as little have contemplated com- mitting a deliberate heroism as of committing a deliberate folly or making an unsafe investment. He had a careful little manner, and he was studi- ously polite to his wife. The obscurity of his pres- ence was really glaring, and he had to a remarkable extent what we may call the quality of obliviality, for it was next to impossible to remember that he was present. "You may not have heard the news," he re- marked, as he sat down, after bowing to Mrs. Mont- gomery's averted profile, "and I came here because I thought you would like to know it. Percy Gerard has just written to me, as his guardiau, saying he intends to marry Lady Sybil Attwood. Of course I gave my consent, and they are engaged. I could not have desired a better match for him." Mrs. Montgomery, having in her mind what the world said Lady Stoakley had planned for Blanche, cleared her throat delicately. But Lady Stoakley answered at once. " My dear Jack," she said, " I have known it for months. ' ' "But I only received the note after dinner, dear Mabel," he said ; "so you cannot have known it so long, if you will pardon ni)' contradicting you. In fact, you cannot have known it at all. Percy, I 4 I The Money Market, 15 '% "I you see, had to get my consent, which I telegraphed to him half an hour ago." "I have known it was certain, I meant," said she ; " it has been in the air." "It has reached ground," he said; "Percy is coming to see me to-morrow. There will be a great deal of business to go through and settle- ments to make. But, indeed, I am not yet quite sure whether, under his grandfather's will, he may marry until his twenty-fifth birthday." "You will find it difficult to persuade Lady Otterbourne of that," remarked Mrs. Montgomery. " When is he twenty-five ? " "In September; he will only have to wait a few months. Indeed, the marriage could hardly take place before." "Oh, he is a good young man, and Lady Otter- bourne knows it," said Lady Stoakley, viciously. "She will rest on her oars awhile now. Really, for a middle-aged woman, her exertions have been immense." Mrs. Montgomery turned to watch the progress of the opera, and abstained from smiling. Poor dear Mabel really gave herself away dreadfully sometimes. For a woman of forty to talk about other people being middle-aged was more than a trifle dangerous, and Mrs. Montgomer> reflected with thankfulness that she herself was only thirty- nine and passed for thirty-five at the most, and had a birthday very conscictniously and with- 16 The Afoncy Market. out any attempt at concealment ever)- eighteen months. Ivady Stoakley was probably to be classed as a selfish woman, but she certainly had the maternal instinct. She had worked and slaved on her daughter's account, and she was willing to go on doing so as long as she could stand. She had taken her to balls and "At Homes" and concerts with the most devoted regularity, and there was no denying that the engagement of Percy Gerard to somebody else was a blow. How Blanche herself would take it she could not guess, but it was always impossible to guess how Blanche would take anything. She was a young lady with a great gift of giving surprises to those who knew her best, and her mother had long ceased to l)e surprised at her except when she behaved in a way that was not surprising. Certainly she had been fond of Percy ; and, I,ord Stoakley being his guardian, it had been natural for him to be often at the house. Indeed, as long as he had been at school he had spent his holidays there, and the two in those days had been the most excellent friends. Nor had the boy-and-girl intimacy ever ceased; but what Lady Stoakley did not know was whether it had ripened in a manner corre- sponding to their years. Blanche was on somewhat intimate terms with a rather large number of eligible and ineligible young men, and it was impossible for any one but herself to know how ■i I ; The Money Market. 17 she ranked them in her affection, but her mother guessed that she put Percy rather high. Still, as long as she did not put him in a class by himself there was no harm done, only her labour had been wasted. Most girls in a similar case, however would, if they had been at all in love with a man who was engaged to some one else, give no sif^n of any sort or kind, but present a stony, non-commit- tmg silence ; and thus it was well on the cards that Blanche would tell her all about it. To-night she was not at the opera, having pleaded fatigue ; and Udy Stoakley determined not to go to her supper-party at I,ynn House, but return home and give the news to her daughter. In fact, it was hardly worth while waiting for the end, and about the middle of the Liebestod she: rose with a rustle. '•I think I shall go home. The noise is deafen- ing: it is like Victoria Station," she said to Mrs Montgomery. " Make my excuses to the Seymours will you? I am rather tired, and I want to see how Blanche is. She has not been well all day." Blanche had not yet gone to bed when Udy Stoakley reached home, and seemed surprised to see her mother so soon. "You are early," she said, ''and where is father? I thought he went to the opera." I^ady Stoakley thought a moment. " Yes, he left the opera with me," she said ; "but I can't remember. Oh, yes, I dropped him at his club." 18 The Money Market. Blanche made no reply, and Udy Stoakley went straight to the point. ^^ "I have heard some news to-night," she said. Percy Gerard is engaged to be married." II To whom ? Udy Sybil, I suppose." " Yes. Is it not a surprise to you ?" Blanche raised her eyebrows,' which were very pretty and delicately stencilled. "Oh, no ! Percy told me about his feelings for Sybil himself long ago. It was a surprise to me then, I grant ; but I have got used to it. He and I are going to be brother and sister. I think it will be charming. I haven't got any brothers and he hasn't got any sisters. Isn't that con- venient ?" Lady Stoakley looked at her daughter impa- tiently. This might mean nothing or it might mean a good deal. Blanche was lying back in a low chair, and her hands were clasped behind her head. She was dressed in white, and her face, nearly as white as her dress, was cut out like a faultless cameo against the dark background of her chair. Her light hair grew low on her forehead, and surmounted a broad oval face, Greek in line, but with a firmness of mouth and chin which would perhaps have seemed more in place on the face of a handsome boy. She lounged rather than sat, and one leg was crossed over the other, and there was so absolute a natural- ness in her position that one almost forgot how un- kley went she said. The Money Market, i^ere very ■lings for se to me He and think it brothers, liat con- -r impa- t might and her She was vhite as • against i:ht hair a broad mess of seemed ^. She crossed latural- low un- 19 tothf„?ws7''^- ''^'"'"'^" blatantly indifferent "Decidedly girls are puzzles to their mother, " thought UdyStoakley. Then aloud." ' What do you mean. Blanche?" The girl sat up. What I say. I love Percy-I „,ean it-and he loves me. We are to be brother and sister. Oh dear no we are not what is called in love with eacirother' Sybil s sister-m-law in that case; wel), we mZ ake the good with the bad. I don't 1 klh r I etythYng.'°^''°""^''''-^^'-y^ '<>><''- " What did he say to that ?" . -^^y ^'1 ^ '"'' '' Sreat deal by not liking her " a,d Blanche; "but he is in love with Le, ^'u see. I suppose that n.akes a difference." ^ Probably. And she certainly has a great charm wUhTh7m.?.^°^'^- "^ -- ^""^ °P- '-X™ "Whythat?" thl^'jil'^''"'*.'"'"'^' ''"' ^ ''^^'^ a sort of idea hat-that-no, I won't say it. Yet, why shouldn't L'urt^'S' j;.r ^'^^'^- Whai is ^ad/ot' 20 The Money Market, " Diamonds," said I^ady Stoakley, promptly and venomously. "Exactly. She has got a diamond for Lady Sybil in Percy. Will he make her an allowance, do you suppose ? She is very poor, isn't she ? " " Where she gets her money from, I don't know," said I,ady Stoakley. *' Well, she has got to Golconda now," remarked Blanche. "And I think that Udy Sybil is fond of Golconda, too. No doubt she is in love with Percy, but I can't help thinking that she would never have allowed herself to if he had been poor. Therefore, Poor Percy!" I^ady Stoakley always drank a cup of hot water in the evening to take away the effects of an un- healthily spent day, and she was sipping it medi- tatively. " You didn't happen to say ' Poor Percy ' to him, did you?" Blanche got out of her chair, and rose slowly to her tall and slender height. " No. The dear boy was so happy, and he so evidently wanted me to consider him the most enviable of mortals. Oh ! mother, I asked him to lunch to-morrow, and he and I are going to I^ord's afterwards. I.ady Sybil is to be there, and we are all going to be brothers and sisters. I hope I shan't find it very difficult to be Sybil's sister. But it wasn't my plan ; it was Percy's." iiptly and for Lady llowance, she?" 't know," remarked il is fond 'ove with he would •een poor. hot water of an un- ■ it niedi- ' to him, slowly to id he so :he most d him to to Ivord's id we are i I shan't But it CHAPTER IL Percy. Percy Gerard had the rare distinction of being considered, for quite six weeks of that I^ondon season, one of the legitimate subjects of conver- sation. He even ousted the weather from its immemorial position of premier topic, although the arctic character of June that year was really remarkable. How much the distinction is worth, there may be two opinions ; of the rarity of it there can be but one, for six weeks is an immense time, since each season is a year, and, at the pace Lon- don goes, each year a lifetime. To those who knew his history— and there were few who did not —he appeared to be a really picturesque figure, and when an eminently dull and ugly age labels a figure picturesque, there can be no doubt that such a one IS certainly not dull and ugly. To take the lowest view of him, he was assuredly more intelligent than the greater part of his world, and much more good-looking. His intelligence was shown in many ways : in the first place, though he had known that there would never be the slightest need for him, from a monetary point of view, to stir a finger or think a thought, he had worked hard enough to get an appointment in the Foreign Office ; and in 21 22 The Money Market. n the second, he was well aware that, though to be very rich is quite sufficient passport to enable any one to make his way, not only unhindered but also welcome, into the most charmed of circles, there is another standard possible, and that a very rich man may still be exceedingly incomplete in every other way. He realised, also, that, though a lazy self- sufficiency is widely considered to be the suffi- cient social equipment for a rich man, the same quality is in itself a poisonous thing ; and he was modest, not from any sense of the value of the commodity, but from native propensity. For a rich and handsome young man to be modest he found to be considered in the minds of certain peo- ple a pose, but he did not trouble himself much about what conclusions such minds might choose to draw. Further, he had developed in him a very strong sense of drama ; he could not help formu- lating to himself how other people struck him, and, as a corollary to this, how he struck himself. He was thus studiously critical of his own behaviour. His connections and history were certainly de- serving of a passing consideration. His grand- father, from whom he inherited his great wealth, had been in business. From this business he re- tired early with a small fortune, but when he died he was found to be enormously wealthy. The will was proved, but no more, as far as was known, was forthcoming about the manner in which he obtained his wealth. He had lived a quiet town-life till he igh to be lable any i but also 5, there is rich mail ery other lazy self- the suffi- the same d he was le of the . For a lodest he tain peo- ilf much it choose m a very p formu- lim, and, elf. He laviour. linly de- ) grand- ; wealth, >s he re- he died rhe will wn, was )btained t till he T/ie Money Market. 23 was sixty years old, when he had suddenly bought the country house of the Marquis of Abbotsworthy bnck, added to a castellated barrack of the six eenth century, with acres of greenhouse, a huge estate, and a ghost. Here he had moved with l^s a baby , and here he spent his remaining years never again setting foot in Undon. The last nin^ years of his life, indeed, he devoted to two "in- sults From the first of April every yearTill the ast day of September, he spent his wh'ole t me^ the river Itclien fishing for trout; and on the is o October he began to play picquet, and played till the last day of March. He ^ever^iad h s house empty, and during the winter months it was mer with fisliermen. Percy's father had died a Tad^ir T'". ''^" '^^ ^^"'^ ^^^^h' -d his wife? yearl oS M T'^I '"" "^^ "^^ ^^-" ^hre years old Mr. Gerard finally had died when Percy was only ten, and since his death, now four^ the hoT T '" '''''' ^^^ b-- m;naged or be n lei f^ ^' ^'"'^^"^- ^'^^ ^^^^ ^^sflf had renewed the lease for another five. It would thus jority, and their application for the renewal of it he ?o tfuTe""' '^ '^^ ^^^"^^'"^^ ---g^. decked 1' 24 The MoncY Market. Of his mother IVrcy only retained a very faint reminiscence ; his father lie did not remember at all, btit he had some distant recollection of his red dress-jacket. He had been killed in some punitive expedition in Africa, in rescuing a wounded com- rade under fire, and had he lived he would have received the Victoria Cross. With the name of his mother, who died very suddenly when he was only five, he associated a hitherto vague vision of a dark, beautiful woman, but now njore vivid to him since he had known Lady vSybil, who was her second-cousin. Indeed, it was strange how that dim figure had started ii)to distinctness; he even began to recollect little tricks of manner peculiar to her, and shared by \\\?> fiancee. She had the same habit of looking over the heads of people, the same exquisite freshness of face, the same slow and grace- ful movements. How extraordinary such coinci- dences were ! In the face of his future wife his mother lived again, and he had his childlike adora- tion for her still burning. Lord Stoakley, who was a man of great sense, the natural outcome of a life-time of middle a^c, had brought up the boy with great simplicity. He had been sent to Winchester, and after Winchester he had | ssed a year and a half abroad, learning French i'tic -. uian. At twenty-one he had got a uorninatkr i-.. f'.. Foreign Office examination, and had enteied it ys a junic? clerk. From that time he had lived ten months of the year in London, ,4. i ery faint ^inber at f his red punitive ied coni- ikl have name of 1 he was sion of a vivid to was her low that he even culiar to the same the same id grace- 1 coinci- wife his :e adora- it sense, idle age, ity. He nchester learning ad got a ion, and hat time r^ondon, The Money Market, 2fi spending his leave in Scotland or down n the conntr>. Till he was twenty-three he had been kept ni ignnrance of how enormous was the fortune 01 which he would, in two years, become master ami when it wiis made known to him his manner of receiving it was absolutely unaffected and thoroughly characteristic. "What a bore!" he said. "It is too much for one," lyord Stoakley, who had communicated the news to him, was almost playful. '* You can always ask some one to share it with you," he said, "and thus there will be others as well." Percy sighed. "I shall have to marry," he said. "What a responsibility!" and his handsome boyish face clouded a moment, and then cleared. "But per- haps no one will marry me," he added hopefully. I.ord Stoakley expressed neither support of nor dipsent from this view, and the boy went on : "How did my grandfather make such a fortune?" he asked. "Was his father very wealthy?" "No, Percy," said Lord Stoakley; "he made his fortune, in the main, himself. How, I am not at liberty to tell you. I cannot even tell you how large, exactly, your fortune will be; but you will be one of the richest men in England. But on your twenty-fifth birthday, the day on which, as he arranged, you come into your property, I shall give 26 The Money Market. you certain instructions and a sealed letter from him, which, perhaps, will tell you the history of his fortune. Till then you are to remain in igno- rance. " "Why, it is like a play," cried the lad. "A sealed letter, on the day one comes of age ! How exciting!" And he laughed. Certainly Fortune, who often showers her favours so blindly and indiscriminately and with so glaring a want of taste, seemed here to have chosen a suita- ble recipient. Percy was essentially simple-minded, as it is right for rich men to be ; he was built of kindness, and his life was stainless. But he had also in him an ingredient which Nature should never forget to put in, when she is compounding the substance of one who will be a millionaire, —namely, an extraordinary delight in beautiful things, and a most accurate perception of what is beautiful and what is not. Editions of books which were remarkable only for their rarity did not ap- peal to him at all ; but he coveted with all the ardour of a bibliomaniac a beautiful edition of a book he loved. He detested artificiality, and the fashion of the day meant nothing to him. Beauti- ful things were desirable only for their beauty, and in no way because they were either rare or ancient; and because people chose to load their rooms with examples of Dresden china, only re- markable for the difficulty which had been over- come in the representation of lace in porcelain, he letter from e history of tain in igno- The Money Market. e lad. age ! "A How 5 her favours h so glaring Dsen a suita- iple-minded, was built of But he had ture should )mpounding millionaire, n beautiful I of what is lOoks which did not ap- rith all the edition of a ity, and the n. Beauti- leir beauty, ler rare or load their la, only re- been over- 3rcelain, he 27 saw no reason for making his own rooms unlivable- V.S ,ii"7^'^^^'-"- of this gospel of esthetics objects. A few of the pictures from Abbotsworthv he had moved up to I.ondon, and a dreamy di Id's face of Greuze looked at him from over his wri nt t:U3le and a Corot hung over the chimne^-pTece ol." which stood a painted terra-cotta froni' CatT :^s=.SiSrz:f^V^ of ttt'orTh ''";^'^; ^^^^^' ^^-^^^ ^ S - oi tiie North, was close y allied in wn\„J^t .i potter who had fashioned that ellirrr t° f which stood jnst below the . I gh ceL ";! "^f! ' tWewasthesan,en„errin,perfe";:rofiL^^^ stop, the same entire absence of irritatino- dlf"-, nous. So, too, with the Greek fiminno • f '1 28 The Money Market. iiil! have oegiiii fanning herself. Masters whose paint- ings were chiefly remarkable for their line and com- position he was content to have in photograph ; but he would not have exchanged his one little water-color Turner for the first proofs of all the engravings of the artist, nor again would he have taken a picture of Rembrandt in exchange for his three Rembrandt etchings. To the point of his finger-tips the lad was an artist — not creative, but critical. His moral and physical life was similarly directed by the critical faculty. Without in any way being a poseur^ he had the habit of regarding as a spectator his own life, and his taste was fas- tidious. Immorality, to take it on the lowest grounds, seemed to him an ugliness, and he never sought for nasty arguments to justify nasty things. Uprightness and straightforward dealing were natural to him, and he took immense and simple pleasure in simple things. He was never bored, because he could turn from one pursuit to another without any diminution of zest. Finally, he likerl his fellow-men, and the word in the dictionary least applicable to him was prig. This happy fathom of humanity was seated at breakfast on the morning after the opera with a nchool-friend, Ernest Fellowes, who was staying with him. In spite of the remarkable dissimilarity between the two, they had a cordial affection for each other, and utterly disagreed on every subject under the sun. ose paint- : and com- otograph ; one little of all the i he have ige for his int of his lative, but 3 similarly ut in any regarding e was fas- lie lowest 1 he never ;ty things, ing were nd simple /er bored, to another , he liked mary least seated at ra with a IS staying ;siniilarity ection for ry subject The Money Market. 29 ''It's easy enough for you to smile at life " Fel- lowes was saying, " in fact it would be gross ingrat- itude of you to do otherwise; indeed, I don't see how you could do otherwise. But we are not all millionaires with excellent digestions, engaged to professional beauties ; and it would be the merest n.t ctation if I pretended to find such pleasure in life as you do without any affectation at all " ''Oh, that's rot!" said Percy, genially. -You fand in life exactly what you choose to find in if It all depends on how you look at things. If I woke up and found myself a bootblack, I should require a few days for readjustment, but at the end I should spit on my brushes with entire cheerfulness It would be more difficult to remain cheerful if one had a bad digestion, but no doubt one would find some way of doing it." "And how if you found yourself what I am>" said the other; -if you, for some inexplicable reason, believed yourself to be less incapable of writmg novels than of any other pursuit, and if the public viewed your masterpieces with distressintr composure?" ^ "My dear fellow, what does the public matter to an artist ? If there is one thing in the world sweeter tuan to have your merit recognized, it is to have 'oiZT^'TTT^^^' ^^''''^ ^^ C°^«^ think of Millet, of-of-of any great artist ! " ' I would sooner not die in a garret," said Fel- lowes decidedly, " though perhaps it is a matter of 30 The Money Market. taste. But, thoiigli I don't suppose I shall do that, what can be more ignoble than to do as I do ? To believe myself capable— for I do so believe, worse luck— of writing something which may be worth readhig, and to have to keep the pot boiling by writing critical notices of books I haven't read, and grind out so much work a week, as if I was a con- vict who had to mount so many steps of the tread- niill every hour." " Of course if you regard your work in that sort of way, no wonder you lose all self-respect." "My dear fellow," said Ernest, "it is a rank im- possibility to be a critic for a penny paper and at- tempt a high line. Editors don't want high lines." Percy looked at him rather shyly. "Ernest, why are you so absurd?" he said. "Why can't you put your twopenny pride in your pocket, give up that sort of work, and do as I have so often asked you, and " " Sponge upon you ? " "That is an offensive way of putting it. You are offensive this morning, you know. Oh, don't apologize." " I wasn't going to," remarked Fellowes, with a smile that he could not suppress; "nothing was further from my thoughts." "I knew you weren't," said Percy. "I said it to excuse the absence of the apology. I really cannot understand making such a fuss about a few pounds. You, unfortunately, have too little ; I, in \ 1 do that, do? To :ve, worse be worth oiling by read, and .^as a con- the tread- that sort t." rank iui- r and at- fh lines." he said. ? in yonr as I have it. You )h, don't s, with a ling was I said it I really mt a few le ; I, in The Money Market. 31 this instance, fortunately, have too much. Nature demands a readjustment. You are proud, obstinate ungenerous, and vain." ' "Why vain?" "Because you prefer to pose as a martyr than to pocket your pride. A lot you care about your art I " More than the public does." Percy raised his eyes in despair. "Ernest, you are either a cynic," he said "or you have the lowest view of your work that I ever heard of, if you expect the public to care as much for your work as you do yourself. I don't know which would be the silliest. It is exceedingly silly to be a cynic, but perhaps the other is the more despicable.^^ About your sponging on me, as you " I'll apologize for that." " It is the first sign of grace I have ever observed ni your conduct. Well, about that, it isn't as if I was making a sacrifice." Ernest smiled at him. "Percy you are the best fellow in the world, I believe," he said ; " but you don't understand If you were offering me something which really cost you a sacrifice, I should take it. It is taking what you don't want that beats me." Percy rescued a struggling fly from the cream jucr. silently and with immense care, and sat watching i brushmg Us head with its forelegs for a minute or so. Ah, that IS a new point of view," he said at 32 The Money Market. I I Kiii^nh, "and it is rather a delicate one. Oh, yon have perception at times, I don't deny it," and he laughed. "But it doesn't convince you that I am right?" " No, it certainly doesn't. It is a little too subtle to be of any practical value ; but it implies a cer- tain delicacy. Put it in your next book." "The devil take my next book!" said Ernest. "But there's my reason for not accepting your offer. If you ever come to your last shilling, and I haven't got a penny, I'll take sixpence." "All right, that is a bargain. In the mean- time- >» (< In the meantime I shall take one of your cig- arettes," said Ernest, leaving the table and opening a silver cigarette box. " Hullo, it's the last ! " "According to your own showing, then, you are bound to take it," said Percy, " because I want it ; but I hope you won't." Ernest had taken up a knife from the table. " I shall cut it in half," he said, ''and I shall take one half and you shall take the other. Thus we shall be consistent. In the meantime you shall send for some more." Percy picked up a torn taggy section. "You've taken the biggest half," he said, re- proachfully. " That does not show the delicacy I had credited you with." Percy lunched with tiie Stoakleys, and after lunch he and Blanche went to I^ord's', where they met The Moucy Market. 3:i Oh, you ," and he I light?" U)o subtle ies a cer- l Ernest, ing your ling, and le niean- your cig- opening St!" , you are want it ; ble. hall take riius we ou shall said, re- elicacy I er lunch hey met I^ady Sybil and her mother, and watched the cricket for an hour or two. lUanche returned early, as her mother had a dinner-party that night, and people had to be looked out in Debrett. I.ady vStoakley was not yet in, and lilanche had tea by herself, looking unusually grave. After tea she got out the list of guests, and sat down to wrestle with prece- dence, but her eye kept wandering from the paper, and for half an hour she contemplated an irregular oval which she had drawn on a half-sheet of paper, which was meant to represent the dining-room table, without putting any names round it. Younger sons of earls and eldest sons of viscounts seemed to her hardly distinguishable. At last she got up and walked to the window. The sun was swung v/estward, and she drew up the Venetian blind which had kept the room cool during the day. Outside, St. James's park was enveloped in a blue haze of heat, and the dusky I^ondon grass was dot- ted with groups of people. The traffic of Pall Mall hummed in the air like the bourdon note of some great organ, with a drowsy persistence now swell- ing into a crescendo, and now diminishing again, but never stopping. She saw and heard only half consciously, only half consciously she felt the cool lifting of her hair in the evening breeze. Then suddenly her eyes grew moist with tears. "Oh, poor Percy ! poor Percy !" she said aloud. 3 HT" CHAPTER m. At Lord's. lyADY Sybii, and her mother stopped later at Ivord's, and did not leave till half-past six, when stumps were drawn. Percy was to dine with them tu famille and afterwards they were going to see I^a Duse in Magda. He put them into their car- riage at the gate, and as there was still plenty of time, lie walked down towards Baker vStreet, for the sake of the exercise. He was intensely, almost riotously happy ; he had his boots infamously mis- handled b)' a ragged Ishmaelite boy, to whom he gave sixpence, and he bought a carnation from a flower-girl without remembering that he had al- ready a gardenia given him by Sybil in his button- hole. That, of course, it was impossible to part with, and with a delicate gentleness he walked on with his carnation in his hand till he was out of sight of the girl, and then bestowed it on an iron railing, smiling to himself out of sheer happiness. He devoted two minutes of serious consideration to a couple of colored chalk drawings made on the paveaient by an extremely prosperous-looking street craftsman with the air of an Academician, and was conscientiously able to declare that they contained no merit of any kind whatever, and no seed of any o4 later at X, when 111 them g- to see leir car- )leiity of , for the almost sly mis- lioiu he I from a had al- button- to part Iked on > out of an iron ppiness. ation to on the [g street uid was ntained of any T/ie Money Market. 36 sort of promise. One represented a lorest scene with an amazing number of trees, resembling amor- phous ferns, reflected in a woodland pool of violent blue surrounded by black fantastic rocks; and the other a blinding snowstorm at sea, with the lines of a vessel dimly descried throwing up a sickly green rocket. So classic an example of the violation of all the canons of art in two small pictures seemed to him to be worth a shilling, which he be- stowed with complete gravity. Indeed, he had reason to be happy, for he was an accepted lover, and the world can never hold a better fate than that. How unspeakably charming Sybil had been that afternoon, and what an incredi- ble ignorance she had shown of the elements of cricket ! Ei'^hty runs had been scored for three wickets in the first innings when they arrived, and she asked him with the intensest curiosity " which side was beating." To enlighten so radical a want of knowledge, it had been necessary to begin with " You see those three sticks there? Well, they are called stumps." But she had not been satisfied with this elementary instruction, and before an hour was up she had fully grasped the meaning of "yorker" and "break from the off," as well as being able to give a wrong name to a majority of the field. By a fine stroke of reasoning she had an- nounced that a man caught by long-on was caught by "the man at pull," and with equal felicity she dubbed " point " the " cutter." 3G The Money Market. ^ At tlie close of tlie first innin^rs they had left the pavilion and walked with lilaiiche to ti.e ;rate to see her into a hansoin, and had then strolled ronnd the Kionnd to^^cther. They met numberless peo- pie they knew, and received scores of con^ratnla- tions, for their engagement had been in the morn- ing i)apers that day. Percy had been universally aekiiow edged to be the great catch of the year and Sybil was an acknowledged beanty The event therefore was of some interest. S)bil re- ceived their congratnlations with a sort of shy pleasnre which seemed to Percy ineffablv charming. 1 J;f", alter they had strolled half ronnd 'the ground • Oh, Percy," she had said, "how kind ev^ry one IS ! 1 liey really seem to be happy that we are so happy. Bnt take me back again to the Pavilion 1 can t see any more people now. They seem " and she paused,-" they seem to come between you and me." ' Uter, while Percy was making his pleasant way down Baker Street, and living over again the de- icions moments of that afternoon, Udy Otter- bourne and Sybil, both sitting very upright in their Victoria, were taken towards Bruton Street. Sybil's face was prettily flushed, and her eves were very bright, PS if she had been playing some game of skill with well-earned success. But the corners of her beautiful bow-shaped mouth drooped a little as if the game had tired her. Udy Otterbourne' on the other hand, showed no traces of fatigue ! :id left tlie e j,'ate, to led roiiiul rlcss peo- )nj;ratii la- the iiioni- iiiversally the year, ty. Tlie Sybil re- t of shy harming, aground: ul every it we are Pavilion. The Money Market. seem M ^een you ant way the de- ' Otter- in their Sybil's ?re very l^ame of rners of a little, bourne, fatigue. 37 She was a tall finely-made woman, only just over forty and the years had but embellished lier. She had been the second wife of the late Lord Otter- bourne, who had died sonic two years after his mar- riage, leaving her with the one child and a S( 'uewliat lusufficien.t allowance. But she had met the world boldly, and as Sybil grew up, clever, winning and beautiful, she felt that the money she was so lavish Willi in order to give the girl a good chance was nicrely an investment sure to yield high interest. That she had money troubles all the world knew' once a considerable sum had been given her by her slcpson, the present I^ord Ottcrbournc, to extricate bcr from an exceedingly tight place, and shield her iioin declared bankruptcy; but he had intimated on that occasion that any further application to him would be vain, and that he neither would nor could pay any more of her debts. The estate was already encumbered with heavy charges, and it could not be further drained. Udy Otterbourne had told him with embarrassing frankness on this occasion that she knew the poverty of the estate only too well, and that she was fully aware that he had not at all approved of the father's second marriage. That, however, had been his father's affair, and his son could not possibly regret the step more than his second wife had done. She made her bow to him. But Providence had not forgotten the widow and the fatherless. If in the length and breadth of 38 i K t The Money Market, a misband for Sybil, .,l,e would not have chosen otI.erw,se. Percy was grandson of a duke on m" mother's side; and if no one knew un.eh about parentage of his gran.lfather, so uutd':' , e "'t ^ HmicecJ means. Abbotsvvortliy House was fii f^r ie.cy h ,„sclf was adn.irably well-bred, he was nends-for he had no enen,ies-couId find a word o say aga,„st hun. He was not, it is true, of Zte tl.e type of young „,an which Udy Ott;rb„r„e found a„u,sn,g; he was too fond of si.nple pi ™ and scandalous stories did not interest hhn in he smallest degree. Indeed the only tin.e Lady O when she told hnn a very ben tnvalo storv ahr>„f I mutual friend. He had turned on t? wi^h' a' said' '""if .-HsV" "r ,"'''^°^' °f """«•" '"^ I-aA said. If It ,s true, it should never have been re peated ,■ and if it is untrue, it is scandalous." But his admirable character and his sin,, le pleasures had .nucli more to recommend them an the reverse would have had ; and he was ver^ «,fe winch was delightful for Sybil. But certal Ivl^: explanations about crieket'had been a t^ t -me and no wonder Sybil looked a little tiVd I i to choose ive chosen ike on liis about the the better, poses (and nan of nn- is fit for a ress of it. , he was )est of liis d a word -, of quite :erbourne pleasures, m in the vady Ot- lers was ' about a with a • he had been re- simjle ;m than ry safe, inly liis - weari- red. The Afonrv Matkrt, 39 I Percy was really rather lonjr-winded about that tiresome game," she remarked to her daughter. What pleasure there can be in seeing a man hit r ! P ''i 1 ' f""^ f """^ ' ^'-^""^^ conjecture, teliignlle!'' """' ^""" "" ^'•'^^^"^^^y ^-•"■ "Oh, I thought it was thrilling! " said Sybil Her mother looked at her dryly. AA y°" ^''"''^'^ ""^'^ '^^"' ^^^'"'" «'^e «aid, and added to herself, " But such behaviour is unneces- sary now." ;; Behaved well ? What do you mean, mother?" Dear child," said Lady Otterbourne, "it was very nice and wise of you to seem so interested It IS admirable tor a man if he is able to be pleased and interested in that sort of game. I envy the people with simple athletic tastes, but I can't un- derstand them." A look-it would be exaggeration to call it foxy -came mto Sybil's face. Her nose seemed to get just a shade sharper, and her Up, compressed, she sdd ^ '' '"^ '""''^' interested in so many things," ^ " Yes, dear, and it will be your business to keep hini interested in them. Of course he will resign h s c erkship in the Foreign Office, for that keeps him ten months of the year in London, but other- wise the more things he takes an interest in the t>eLter. I Iiope, for instance, he will go into Par- iiament,-that is always considered respectable 40 The Money Market. Again, he might take to farming. He has a great deal of practical ability, and endless interest in de- tails. I believe one needn't lose very much money if one manages a farm carefully. I^uckily, Percy needn't consider that," and she sighed amorously. "How did his grandfather make his fortune?" asked Sybil. "I don't know. I asked Percy about it, but even he didn't know. He told me something about a sealed letter to him from his grandfather, whicli would be placed in his hands in September, on his twenty-fifth birth-day. That will be just before your wedding, Sybil. However, his grandfather did make a fortune : there is no doubt about that and really that is all that matters. " ' "It is interesting," said Sybil. "I wonder if Percy will tell me when he knows ? " " I shouldn't ask, if I were you. It cannot pos- sibly matter, and if it was made in some-well some rather shady way, it is just as well that it should not be known. Some people are so absurd and old-fashioned." "I don't feel as if I should mind much," said Sybil, " the making of it is so remote. How can it concern Percy ? " *'0f course, that is the only view to take" said Lady Otterbourne. ''A sovereign made in selling adulterated beer is just as good as any other sovereign. Certainly as long as one has not had a hand in the making of it oneself, there IS a great 2st ill de- h money y, Percy ^roiisly. rtune?" but even about a ', whicli f, on his t before ndfather )ut that, onder if not pos- 2 — well, that it • absurd The Money Market. 41 M said V can it take," lade in as any lie has f, there is nothing that can matter less than how it has been made." "Isn't there some phrase, 'an accomplice after the fact?'" asked Sybil. "No doubt there are all sorts of phrases," said her mother. "But probably Mr. Gerard's money was made in some honest, wholesome trade ; and even if it were not so, it concerns nobody now." Lady Otterbourne lived in a small house in Bruton Street, left her for her life by her late hus- band. She used never to come to London before Easter, and she let it when she was fortunate, for seven or eight months in the year. This brought her in a sum of money which was often very useful to her, for she was deliberately extravagant, and, as has been stated, her allowance was not large. Her stepson, a man whom Lady Otterbourne considered of an antiquated and absurd type, had much dis- liked her letting it. The house had been meant, he said, for her to live in, and it was lowering the dig- nity of the family to do anything but let it stand empty when she was not there. Lady Otterbourne was frankly unable to understand such an argu- ment, and instanced a hundred people who did the same. And as he had no reply ready for the retort that it was beneath the dignity of an earl to leave his wife with the means of a housekeeper, she con- sidered the argument closed. It was nearly time to dress for dinner when they reached Bruton Street, but Lady Otterbourne lin- r ; i 42 T/ie Money Market. gered a few minules over some letters in her morn mg roo„. before consi,.„ing herself to her mad" walked up and down her room before sitting down in the ink and threw it down again. Kventuallv she wrote and addressed a telegram • '"^^"'"^^^^ elevem'''' '^"'' '" '^" "^^ ^^^^^ to-morrow at I lier morn- ' Iier maid, on, and she itting- down 3ed tlie pen Eventually morrow at CHAPTER IV. Lady Otterbournc's Visitor. Sybil went out after breakfast next morning to ride her bicycle in the Park, where Percy was to meet her, and Lady Otter bourne was glad to find that she was still out at eleven, when she expected her visitor. Shortly after the clock had struck she saw from the window of her morning room a han- som drive up and a young man get out. She had told her servant that she was at home to a Mr. Samuelson, and in a few moments he was shown up. He was quite young, not more than two or three and twenty, urbane and self-possessed, and he looked perfectly English. In fact, he was a shade too self-possessed, he was too clearly accustomed to consider himself a gentleman; it must have been a habit of his to assure himself of it often. He bowed to Lady Otterbourne, who remained seated, and said: " Your ladyship asked to see me this morning." " Mr. Samuelson ? " asked Lady Otterbourne. *' Yes ; my father was away, and in his absence I thought it better to come myself than to send one of our clerks to see you." Lady Otterbourne flushed. This young gentle- man apparently knew the polite art of being inde- 43 r 44 Ihe Money Market. " ''l';^«'-- t^'ke a sent, Mr. Sa„>„olso„,- ..he ,aid iiiig'it renew l.iy bill. Also I .„„ ■ ] I f»rtl,e.- Ioa„." •"" '" ''™' »f •-> Mr. SainneLson took out of l,i., brei,t.,opl,Pt neat green .norocco notebook, bo„n,l ^ r:;': .^ a silver inoiiograiii ou it ' "The debt a year ago wa.s /i2,ooo," he siid S.nce then you have renewed k fo twi „e Hods nf SLK months, the interest for tl,„ '"" i";"o"f' of 1 , ""cresc lor tlie second of wliirli newals has not yet been paid. Conseqne.Ttl ' and aga„, he ,,a„.se.l, regarding Lady Otlrbo n'le t:trt;:onr?r;;:L^,r -^ - ■•■■ -- ^e^' ceu.on^.,oc.f„r:si.rt:'';„ltS:S: The Money Market. 46 not received " slie said. ider that I need of a istpocket a silver, with lad)'ship's posed that wished at am a few said I^ady ^'ith much he said, periods of of which luently," terboiirne a stuffed our debt she. ladyshij^ it 60 per 3, ai nie end of yon,- trouble," said J y »'>I^^ (iiiic. :il ten per Wiuirleied iilcss yoii rs!" she pIc do at 'h)/f/ was "St from that we inythiiifr is Voice i^as Slip- member ' telling : blood- latifica- lelson's attack. ? for a ? said ; ■ci and i that " said V//C Money Market. 49 Ml. Sainuelsoii, with soniclliin^^ of the air of a (Icnlist wlio is stopping a i)ainful toolh. Lady Otlcrbotinio could almost have laughed in tile midst of her exasperation at the well-bred rude- ness of the man, at his colossally impertinent tact- ful i less. " I think I need not detain you any longer," she said, giving him her hand. " You will be kind enough then to send me the necessary forms for the renewal at once, and also to communicate with your father about the additional loan. I shall be in London till the end of the month. It would be convenient to hear before then." " With the greatest pleasure," said Mr. vSamuel- son, rising. "Ah, will your ladyship allow me to look at this table a moment? Yes, indeed, the bronzes are most beautiful. Duveen has not got so fine a specimen. I will wish your ladyship good- morning ;" and taking his hat, this polished young gentleman left the room. Lady Otterbourne stood still where he had left her for a minute or more. She had planned to act as she had acted without any sense of shame ; but hard, unprincipled and worldly as she was, the scene itself when actually on the boards had filled her with disgust of herself. The odious urbanity and the gentlemanly appearance of the younger Mr. Sanmelson seemed to her an outrage. She felt that she would not have minded the scene if the other actor had been the young man's father, 4 60 The Mopiey Market, who was a sleek and truckling old Jew -nul wn,- October " h„t r, V . 1 , "■a»'*action of last wcioDer, but stated brutal amounts i„ I.ard c■^^\, . -.d t^t,gl, she knew perfectly well that tl elt 1,' jv ty was rank „„post„re, yet a little decent How much money do yon want, mother? If you like, I will tell him." ^ Now it is a very curious and exceedingly com- mon phenomenon that when a man, even^a natu- rally frank man, is in debt, and is asked, with a view to their payment, what his debts are, he will not state them in full. It is hard to tell the whole against oneself, and Lady Otterbourne was whollv incapable of it. Siie did not consciously wish to d you, or dn't get, liiuiscir, me. He im terri- 1 I ask )t that I 'iicleriiig ondered le after- hat sort incisive Percy, Lhat he to offer rhyme iculty? If you y com- natu- vith a le will whole vholly ish to T/w Money Market. 53 whitewash the situation; but though any confes- sion was difficult, siie found it much more possible to contemplate cutting a much worse figure six months hence than a very bad one to-day. She could only bring herself to mention the amount of the new loan she wished to obtain from vSanmelson's liouse, hoping that it would not occur to Percy that she was in debt, but merely that she wanted the cash. To tell him that she was in the hands of money-lenders, to be frank about the whole thing, she could not face. Yet, even while she purposely kept back the greater part of her debt, she knew that to act thus war; only to go to Percy again ; but tell the whole she could not. "Three thousand pounds," she said, "would relieve me of all anxiety." Sybil opened her eyes very wide ; had it been ladylike she would ha\e whistled, and words cannot say how intense! \' irritating her mother found that little gesture. "That sounds an awful lot," said she. Then, with a laugh in which there was no merriment, " How lucky that Peicy is very rich !" Lady Otterbourne was silent. Sybil seemed to wish to parade Percy as her property, to make herself conspicuously the channel through which came the gift to her mother, and such an attitude was intolerably galling to Lady Otterbourne. But her pride was worsted by the prospect of even par- tial relief, and she said nothing till Sybil spoke again. 54 The Money Market, PI m \: f f.,-','i^^'",' 'l'^"'' ^^ '•"'P^'''" ^''« ^^id- "I will cer- If those pearls have come yet." wonder Percy came to lunch at Brutou Street and Svhil made up her mh.d to ask him as soon as tTey tre alone afterwards. He brought with him the pllrU worM?„ i , ' ^^ "'^ P"'^"'^^' thing in the fi ^^^ LHings. Ihere were two row«! r.^ ^^ were iit trom withm— a mark aq cjx,k;i rar;e°tr!':,'"'"' P^"'^' ""^ ^"e noti d w' th behind the neclc. Pear^li:: eTdaTber To admiration, and the most notorious cjnk; could nn? together in Syh^^ln^rsit^Srit the' ^iri J^l m"*' ''•'"^'"^ °^ - *°">^«nd things 1 e ' g.rl still holding the pearls in her hand and folic TgeX."" '"" "'"' ^"^ '°^'"^'^ *"" ■- "-' "I like pearls better than anything, P.rcv " she -.d, "they are so sympatHi,„e. ThVniS; you The Money Market. ' I will cer- , generous I wonder and Sybil they were the pearls u fulfilled ng in the :en of the o rows of nth that 11 look as as Sybil ced with ,and did - grains, eaiity to ould not for the le away )ple sat at the igs, the touch- ier cool ^'," she fe you 56 wear them, the more you touch them, the better it IS for them. I like to think they get to know and delight in one's touch." '' Your pearls are very lucky, Sybil," said he, and she smiled her answer to him. But by degrees Sybil grew a little silent, and Percy asked her what was on her mind. " Do you remember what you said to me this morning about mother? " she asked. "Surely. Have you been good, for once, and not forgotten to ask her? Do you mean to tell me you have really so far forgotten yourself as to remember something ?" Sybil smiled. "You are too foolish," she said; "as if I ever forget anything you tell me ! Anyhow, I remem- bered this. She is worried about money. ' ' "I am delighted to hear it," said Percy. "At least, you see what I mean?" Sybil gave Uiin a little quick, trembling kiss. " You are very generous," she said. " But it is such an awful lot, I hardly like to ask you?" " You promised," said Percy. "Well, she said that three thousand pounds would relieve her of all anxiety." Percy laughed. " How terrible ! " he said. - How truly terrible ! How shall I send it, Sybil ? Perhaps it would be best to pay it into her account, and so she needn't be bothered to send me a receipt, or any horrid 66 I ' » f T/ie Money Market. aing o. that sort. I^ondon and West„„„.,ter "Tl.mik yo,,, dear, for saying that," he said qtute gravely, "That i. .h^ one thi^g , faU ■ever be tned of hearing, Sybil. VVelf that " done w,th, is it not? Let's talk abont son, ill more interesting ? ' ' ^uiucuiing ;; How rude you are ! Isn't mother interesting ? ' ' We were talking about money," said he "and money certainly is not." ' Sybil looked thoughtful. *' I am not sure about that," she said. We 1, I am. Did the new bicycle take vou Home nicely?" ^ ^ °" Before leaving, he wrote a short note to Lady s^rdtu^ ^"' ^'^-^' '' '^ 'y'^^ ^^^- hi "Will it do?" he asked. "I „,ean, does it sound sincere ? God knows it is;" and she read :-- "My DEAR MOTHKR, "You have no idea how ^reat a olenqiir*. ,.^.. i uie in lettin, n,e feel that yln 1:^::^"^^^:^ a pledge that you will alway.s do so. until I fail vnn T? you shall deal with me as you will. ^ ^^'" " Yours afiectionately, " Pi^HCY Gerard. Westminster id then siid- nerous," slie Lt," he said ing I shall ^ell, that is : soniething^ teresting?" id he, ''and The Money Market. 57 T 'r* ^'~i '^^r ^'^''^. *^^ ^^^"1"^ ^°^<^ yo^r account at the London and Westminster Bank, so you needn't be bothered with sending me a receipt." Sybil read it through, and when she gave it back to him her eyes were dim. " Yes, it will certainly do, Percy," she said. take you e to I.ady before he n, does it he read : — have given lake this as you. Then Gerard. '■:m CHAPTER V. Abbotswofthy. SYBir and Percy had arranged to go down some day before the end of Jnly to see therfnTr! conntry honse at Abbotsworthy. The An et^c^s o whom ,t had l,een Jet for all these yea " w«e ... London for the season ; and they left Watedoo early one morning, so as to be able to spe.'d the ..s.de of the day at the place, where thfy wo^M see how mnch painting and carpeting had To be S>b.l wo ,M choose her rooms. Thev were to .-e aft:rw:rd',"",fr ';""?• "'" ^^^^^ «--»*^ '- ^ ^--e afte> wards. Blanche Stoakle>-, at Sybil's particnl-ir reques , ca„,e with then,. Sybil had str ,ck ni. son,ewhat nuimate acquaintance with 1 er sTce her e„gagen,e„t to Percy ; thongh how far I la he responded, owing to her personal liking for L o her and how n,„cl. of her friendship 4s a to He Cur' „°" '"°""' °' ''"•'y' '^ ""-'ai„. -efi^:;f:;;^-,^^^^ ti:?;':n.e».Si':kr-'--'>--d;rd It was one of those mornings when Nature seem<- to bc^nak„,g a really se.ions effort to be pleLa"; down some their future Americans, years, were ft Waterloo ) spend tlie they would had to be ttuinn ; and were to get ; to a dance 3 particular truck ujta her, since ar I^lanche ig for the was a toll uncertain, convincing re in see- loved and ure seems pleasant, The Money Market. 59 and on such occasions how admirably she succeeds? No one, as has been truly remarked, can be so pleasant as Nature when she chooses to exert her- self. ICven over I^ondon the air was almost clear, and the slight thickening of the atmosphere was in her hands but a medium for subtleties of colour and tone. The haze which never quite leaves our streets was thin and opalescent, a veil of half tints, and full of the hints and suggestions and deliberate sobriety of impressionist art. There is no city in the world so wonderfully "composed " as London, and as Percy drove to Waterloo he saw right and left a unique gallery of modern pictures by artists familiar to him. On certain days, as we all know, Nature manifests herself as a painter of the early English school ; on others, of tlie Dutch ; occa- sionally, even, she is Venetian or Florentine. But to-day she was emphatically modern and French, an apotheods of the Caillebotte collection. Hyde Park Corner was an unquestionable Claude Monet the Green Park a fine Rodin, Trafalgar Square w^'th the National Gallery standing quivering beliind the fountain was a Renoir, and a whole mile of Whistlers extended down the Embankment. The completeness of the happiness which Sybil had awakened in him was far from rendering him im- percipient of all but Sybil ; rather h,s love seemed to have quickened all the nerves and senses of Ijis body : the beauty of all he saw was more vividly perceived ; colour had grown more exquisite smce 60 T/te Money Market. he had known Sybil ; mucie had gained in bar mony; and the world had been flnfhed wi h new and unknown loveliness. For his was one of tl osl "atnres to which happiness and perceptio of b al Blanche had ah ady arrived at Waterloo when he later. They had, of course, the nsual difficulty in tne lexerish, over-driven porters as usual evhih .ted a perfectly unassumed, but baffling ^noTa't of th,s nuportant point; but as the tfain (also as .sua was late in starting, they found it b;fore U left the station with the reluctance of a chHd who .s made to bathe in the sea on a cold day and is The train after throwing the suburbs and the h.deons backs of semi^letached houses over Ttl shoulder, ran through a delectable land. The lid IseXre to L'^"^ °' ^"l'"""- " ~-bination ii l.a..d. For a brief space the river-side kept them company on the left, and they caught a fl Jn" «1..npse of that beautiful red-brick fower w her! tail enough to mt h.m to the level of the throne and from where he wrote so bitterly of th" miZa The Money Market, 61 ned in har- d with new )iie of those )ii of beauty 1 and minis- as tlie gain oo when he linute or so [ifficulty in started, and lal, exhib- ignorance in (also as t before it child who day and is eking and >s and the 5 over its The fields nation not on either ^ept them ■ ^ flying '■er where ad grown e throne, e nn'asma I fioin the low-lying fields. Woking was a sandy streak, the Fleet ponds a silver splash, and they stayed to draw breath at Bisingstoke. Thereafter they went more slowly, passing into a hilly country of chalk, stopped again for no conceivable reason at a sad and solitary cowshed called Micheldever, and drew up at the end of their journey at Royal Win- chester. Over tliis town there lies pre-eminent the charm of Gothic and ancient things. Every other house is a leaf from a mediaeval chronicle, and the cathe- dral and college are chapteis complete. Percy had been there at school, and as he again entered his charmed land forgotten phrases sprang to his tongue, unintelligible in themselves, and not rendered more comprehensive to Blanche and Sybil by his expla- nation that they were " notions." They lunched in the town at the George Hotel, and spent half-an-hour, while it was getting ready, in driving about the city, strolling through the Close under the immemorial elms, and hanging a minute on the mill bridge to watch a mighty trout feeding. Afterwards they set out for Abbotsworthy, two miles off. The house stood on a hill, and crowned the valley of the Itclien. Two red-brick towers enclosed a gateway, and entering they drove up an immense gravel sweep to the front door. A short flight of steps led to the lower corridor, which ran the length of the house, and Sybil stopped astounded at the magnificence which should be :.N 62 The iXtoiiiy Miiikrt. il ■■-. 1 he ™n„!,„ w,,.s .s„,„c l,„„.l,,,| „„| „r| i^'l lo„K, a.ul l,u„K Iron, cml l„ n„l will, CoIkM,, ta|.CSl,y. A, „.i,l.. i„(c,«.lH .InoiS „|K.,„-,I iMl„ ,|„. .vcopl,,,,, „„„„,s or (he |,o„«., ,„„: a, Ih. fin .,,,1 ■■m a.u.lhc- coni,lor at rij;!,! angles Ica.li,,^. „, ,|„, Moi^^J.r"''*'' ■"'■ "'''""' ""^' "■■ "'^••*^' ''""■' ''«=y Svl,il '• !n T\ '""'i'f'r .'""""' ''^"■''"«'" ''^ =<•'« "- vS.M tl, a,.,l ploaso (i.,,| ,t ,,|,,,|l i,,, j,,,,,., , Roin lojictliiT." "" riR. n-oeptimi-rooins, two drnwin^^-rooms , — V ca„,a the roon, or Percy's .,K,.l,er;,„; 1I.C I l.m,y ookcl out across thcfvar.lc. to the ;atcr "oa. ows or ,1,0 Uchc. Syl.i, „„, „„ ,,.,,t l^!^ lor the l,oa„t,es or Nature, b„t even she stop pe,l w. h a ,„K.k-drawn breath a,„l au explanatr ■ g all It touched, temperate and unstinted. The whole ^c,,c .... u,,,, ,„, g,,,^,.„„^_ ^_^j ^__^,.^|_ TItr Money Maykrt. 63 1 and fiAy III (IoIkIih •<1 into (hi. Ill" far I'lid liiiR (o the uois Percy lie said (o "i- lyct us rooms, a >tlicr, and the water :reat love ! stoj)ped latioii of 'vv ilowcr- 1 lay ill It chalk shoulder 1(1 niclt- w of the er, with lie fore- dcd the all lay I caress- 1. The English To Percy it was an itidcscrihablc pleasure to see his old home a^niiu. The trail of the invaders was not over it ; for the present Icnanis were in lyondon, and they had had the \\mA taslc not to alter any of (he existing; decoration. TIk- house ha.atever cynics n„d other X it '""■'' '""' bnn« tranquillity, and trancp.il UvTs 'wor '"' ■■'"^'■ of Grecian noses Hl,.c..; , ' ''^ ""f" a score "■esc, and tho,;-, a eXo ' e w"" *'" "■«= "^ -a-lea bca„,ifn,'re„de • I'o ."^^ m'^'^' ''='^^' - Painlcr a fine opport in -^ , T""'' '"'^^^iven on her face did not tc of' ''''^" ^""''''^^ ""'y of the Kontlei, eW hi "'""■'"'^ °^ '^°"'"<^. ^nt 'n.e habit of pa ie ce lnt7'""^''°''''^''l'y y^^^^- brown eyes, aJ.dtl^uIu.rr ",','" °"' °^ '- toothless was set in an el rl/- ^ f"" "*-''>■ ""'' tent. Blanche fe hlel ,7-' °" ''^''""■'"''^ ™"- '■er, and fron, her to p'i; ' J'^ '^ -^''^ '°°kecl at solicitude as he led 1 er nn? h ""'' ''"" "' "^"der "Sybil de-M "I 4 ■! ""= ''^a-table. o^ mi deal, hesaid, "thk i.. ni. ■ always nsed to n.ake me tal-e off "'^^'"8'™- wI>o get in before it wa' dark f / ^'^ ^"""«>'^. ••'"d run away with nie An,l i '^''!'' " «>Psy should lilessington ; and on st,. 'H " ^"^^ ^'••'"ehe, f-.sall.Jni.asratlstscr™.™'''"-^^^^ Thr Money Market. 67 ^ ^•cl y odd aid. '«siic y» and luis ^ brill .jn^ ''''t a deal- est always »>ost ])art may say| l^Ii a score IS one of t^Iy liavo ive given wrinkles iibic, but py years. It of lier tvay and site con- >oked at tender 5n, who >ts, and should lanche, ike tea Sybil merely bowed to the old lady and took another place with a sonievvhat reserved air, and a manner as of j^atherinji^ her skirts up; but Hlanche };()t up and shook hands in answer '., ♦^lie old lady's courtesy. *'Eh, Master Percy," she said, " ii*s a i any years since I poured out tea for you ; b M 1 d >a't forget. You always took three lumps of .nij^ar and made me put in the cream before I poured in the tea.' Percy lanj^hcd. "You are (piite right, Klessington," he said, "but I have changed. I don't take sugar now; but the rule about the cream still holds good." Blessington smiled at him with an air of indul- gence. " Ell, you've been a good boy to-day," she said, " You may have your three lumps." And she dropped the three largest lumps she could find one by one into his cup. "This lady didn't know how to make your tea," she said, looking beamingly at Sybil. " I can see from it that the cream was put in after the tea. It never mixes so well, made like that." Sybil merely raised her eyebrows, and did not take the trouble to reply, but Percy answered. " She will have to learn, then, Blessington," he cried, " for she will pour out tea for me, I hope, many hundred times ! " The old nurse beamed again ; she had evidently not grasped the position before. S;' 68 The Money Market. r^^Zr'Z^l^, C'^ulfolr- ' -- ""' - Percy, and for ' the ladv wh ''^'"■" '"" "^^'^ Bless you, „y dear ■' ^Jj}°u " '° ''^ ^'^ wife. M'-- •' Whyf it seen,s t ; ' id' 'T ^°''' '°''- scold Master Percy for "X- ^^ "'*' ^ ^ad to gardener's da.,ghter and h '"^,""!' "°""^ "^ "-e he was tl,at ! " ' ""^ ""'^ "'"« years old, if Sybil suddenly burst out ,•„, ^^Hmrfur:7f"r,^rt"-^''--'^'''e broke out laughing for the I ^°. •' """ "^ Sybil fi"ed up the te;p: aJ^: '^"f ^ '^'ed, and she -mile. But she was f 1 noTt I ^ "'" "'^^ "^'-^ "»' Percy, and he looked at Svl''' ." " '°^ "'^" nient. ^ "" ^ybil with blank amaze- 0''i I am not \ea\r,n^ " i 3low voice, .. but reSTmi, ? T'"' °"' ■" ^ ~<" yo« were a little too g^ det and':"' ' "'°"^'" find a weak place. Now » f f ' " '" '° ""'ee to die against you. liyZ',tr7 T' ' ''^™ ^ ^an- do exactly as I wish I shaT f"',"'" ""= °^'"^il '<> from your nurse aool, L ' Ird '7'^^' ^"^uries ''-.vo..wiii«ndn'o^*riX::is fi this eve- for Master ■ his wife, s you, too, It I had to ice of the -ars old, if daughter. know of " in such with the as Sybil e looked and she - did not >ss than amaze- ti a cool hough t nice to a han- r fail to qniries ter." niiss,'» stinct, aught T/ie Money Market. 69 but good about Master Percy. And now, Master Percy, with your leave, I will go to my own tea. Pve filled the teapot up and there's another good cup for everybody." "Oh, don't go, Blessington ! " cried Percy. " Why, you've only been here ten minutes." " My tea will be waiting," said Blessington, with dignity, "and the others will be wondering where lam." And she got up and walked across the lawn to the house. Once she looked back, but Percy was sitting with his back to her ; her thin wrinkled hands made one sudden, quick movement towards each other, and she disappeared into the door lead- ing to the basement. The three sat in silence for a moment, and Percy felt that Sybil had behaved altogether unfitly. What could have been easier than, by a few kindly words, to have made his old nurse happier than a hundred pounds would have made her? What could have been more uncalled for than such a piece of chaff about the gardener's daughter? — liarmless enough in itself, but so certain to be mis- understood by the dear simple old lady. For the moment he was, though half unconsciously, really troubled. The essence of good breeding was, surely, to behave nicely to one's inferiors. He could not bear people not to show kindness and courtesy to servants ; and of all people in this world who had a right to expect all that was gentle from 70 \kl The Money Market. fir,f H • " ''"'' '""'5<='f. was ainons the '''^^>^» and It seemed to him fi.of t yoiincr Qv)^ii V 1 "I'l-ters and from t le to lier in some wnv T\/r^ , ^^ °^ "se the poor o,d ladT ad J^.uSf ^ r^f "" "■"' Who cared whether Perrv 1 ! "'^ ^"'' l''"'-''^- i» I.is tea or „o^> A,,' f "'^^^ ''"»P^°f ^»8- t«n.ed out of o.,e's seat 1 ' T" "T''''^ '° '^'^ splendid hcse over whi.h he touH ""^"• -stress had. i„ a .a,, ...e to^ ^Ir Thad The Money Market. 71 been too intoxicated to be cautious, too elated to remember to be sympathetic ; and again, as when Percy told the stories of his childhood, ^lie perceived and rectified her error. *'What a dear, queer old woman!" she cried when Blessington was out of earshot — "a sort of old fairy godmother. And what beautiful white hair, Percy I Why did you never tell me who was the real chatelaine of your house? I am sure she must regard me as a horrid supplanter of her rights, but I shall not allow her to dislike me. I shall make her fall in love with me, and we will rule togetiier and devote all our time and energy to taking care of our Master Percy. Some more tea, dear? Three lumps or none? I shall install my- self again. But wasn't the old lady quick? She snapped me up in a moment when I alluded to the gardener's daughter. Oh, Percy, I hope your wife will ever be as jealous for your good reputation ! But I start under a terrible handicap." Percy's brow cleared, and that infinitesimal moment in which he had found Sybil wanting vanished from his mind. She had merely been a little thoughtless, not grasping at once what were Blessington's claims on her courtesy ; she had shown no nnkindness or ill-breeding, and while her eyes laughed and danced at him he could not judge her. "Yes, give me another cup, Sybil,'' he said. " Ah, I am so happy to be here again ; and next Ml I it ' I 72 time I T/ie Money Market, voice, come here," he ackled in a \o^ sliall be even happier." So fro,,, tlie two tlie cloud cleared. But Blanche's V.S.O,,, where Sybil was concerned, wasnotbl ,ded a.K she saw that for the n.on.en Percy ha W „ senonsly vexed and that Sybil had disapp in d I. n. S ,e saw, too, that Sybil, though in a matter rtd'ifrrr' ''—' '"'-'' ' ■ '■ »«-""« After tea they went back to the house again and among other roon.s visited the grelt kitche"; wind: had once been the chapel of^he Abbots worthy monastery church. It was vauUed „ he fan-shaped style, and the groining of the arches rose from queer grotesque, at the\.nctu e of wall and pointed ceiling; an.; h, .e and thee ot pauit Percy mentioned a scheme which he had ,n h,s mind of building out a new kUchen and restonng this room to its old uses, or at ^ «te^..eav„.g ,t en.pty, but Sybil did not sj^ ""wo"I and I will live here a great deal. And you will send me up to \ \ H mi I I* ■ II t 74 T/te Money Market, London some of that beautiful butter we nad at tea ? I never tasted such good butter. I can never eat the London butter ; I am sure it is made of some horrible stuff. Well, we must be going.- If we are to catch our train. Good-bye, and you must i^rcnise to pour out ^ea for us again the very first day we are Here. Percy was channcd with Sybil's amende : but Blanche thought .she caught a sort of triumphant glance from S3 bil which seemed to say, " See l^ow easily I make the queer old lady adore me " It was lucky for Sybil's satisfaction with her own behaviour that she could not read Blessingtons thoughts as she watched the carriage drive away. She's prettier than a ; cture," she thought; but I wish It had been Miss Blanche." Ill ^^ ive iiad at can never le of some we are to >t jtrcinise Jay we are neife : but iumpliant * See how ■ L her own isington's : away, thought ; CaiAPTER VI. Blanche's Difficulty. Partly because of and partly in spite of their long intimacy, it had never occurred either to Blanche or Percy to fall in love with the other. They had known each other so long and so well that the chances of any feeling more passionate than very cordial friendship springing up at any moment between them were necessarily small. But now, after Percy's engagement to Sybil, Blanche began to find that it was one of the duties of a sister to listen to her brother's rhapsodies on the subject of the adored. Hitherto she had agreed, disagreed, or quarrelled with him on all subjects under the sun ; but it was apparent at once that this subject was not to be treated as any other, but that whenever it came up it was absolutely essential to appear to agree with him fervently, to suggest even herself fresh evidences of perfection, and she found the acceptance of this part a little difficult. Frankly, she was not at all fond of Sybil though at first she could have given no more defi- nite reason for her want of sympathy with her than was assigned to the unpopular Dr. Fell. But by degrees her vague xiislike and distrust of her took form and outline. She suspected that she was 76 l:| ? |H n 76 The Moiiry Market, ' 1 : 7 ' s^iallow, and wliere Percy saw depth of feeline Blanche saw only a pair of beantiful eyes. The sha owness she covered partly by those glances, fhl^ "; '. ^''^!^"^''^^'"^ ^^- 1 of sharpness, and of this she had given Blanche an excellent example m her behavionr to Blessington at tea and after- wards. What all this amounted to was, that Sybil was insincere, and once granting tha!, there arose the awful question, - Who was the real Sybil ? " But the Idea of Percy's being able to even tolerate insincerity in any one was so absurd that Blanche had to allow the possibility of two coiiclusions- either that she herself was radically and hopelessly at fault in her estimation of Sybil, or, what would be really tragic, that Percy was blind to her insin- cerity To do Blanche justice, she longed to believe that she herself was wrong about it. Sybil's whole conduct on the day they spent at Abbotsworthy seemed to her one piece of acting, and not good acting. She was enamored of the beauty and splen- dour of the house, -so far her emotions had been real ; her head was filled with pictures of herself entertaining great parlies of smart people in those palatial rooms ; all else, Percy included, was for- gotten, and recalled only by an effort, and an ob- vious effort She had not a grain of sentiment, so thought Blanche, in her composition, and conse- qnently no sympathy for the sentiment shown by others. Her mind was playing a triumplial march in C major in honor of herself, and it was with a The Money Market. 77 feeling, es. The glances, i, and of example 11(1 after- lat Sybil :re arose Sybil ? " tolerate Blanche iisions — 'pelessly It would ^r insin- ) believe 's whole sworthy ot good J splen- id been herself ti those ^as for- an ob- lent, so conse- wn by march with a ic palpable impatience that she stopped the orchestra and stumbled through a line or two of her love duet. So far Blanche's feeling about Sybil was imper- sonal. She judged her, or at any rate believed she judged her, as she would have judged any one else who was indifferent to her. But at that point, out of her pity for Percy, there began to spring, all unconsciously, the first shoots of another feeling. The protective instinct which women have for men, which is no less real than that which men have for women with whom they have bonds of friendship, began to sprout in her. She would, with willingness and gratitude for the opportunity, have sacrificed herself to work the redemption of Sybil, and so to save Percy ; but no one demanded or even made permissible any sacrifice. He was radiantly happy, he desired nothing more than what he had, and he poured out his happiness to her in torrents of talk of which the burden was Sybil ! Sybil \ Sybil ! To Blanche the burden was beginning to grow heavy. Blanche's conscience was a first-rate ma- chine, but as yet it brought no shadow of accusation against her. She had always been fond of Percy, she was so still, and it did not occur to her that any change was takit.or place in the quality of her affection for him. - ■ irthermore she was analyti- cally inclined, and fond of the dissection of com- plicated feelings, and her feeling towards Sybil .11 li «*' 1, 1 j 1^ 78 The i\fomy Market, was certainly complicated. Thus she let herself often dwell on the question ; and the tMore she dwelt on it, the more it troubled he Ai one time she would label her with most uncomplimentary epithets— she was insincere, her alTcction for Percy was an all< ction of a purely selfish kind, and she was aposn- comes out of l.ard jagged clouds through a ner feet y transparent atmosphere. There are a liun- clred beautiful things to see. And then two days ago, when we had, as you said, a hard frost, did you ever see anything so divine as the clearness of the morning? Oh, I like variety ! " "It seems to me insincere," said Blanche, think- ing of Sybil. ' "That is a cruel interpretation," he said "A person may have many moods, and >'et each one is sincere. lu fact, moods are a great evidence of sin- cerity. A man who goes through life with a hard, set face if he is sincere, is scarcely human, and one concludes his absolute consistency is an effort But a beautiful variety of moods is one of the chiefest charms of certain characters. Sybil for iiistance-but I can't pretend to draw logical con- clusions where she is concerned, for I am dazzled However, you would not think that her religious emotions were very keen. Yet I had told her last Saturday evening that I should go to service at St. ^aul s and she said she would come with me. We had a beautiful choral communion by Wesley, and in the Gloria, when they were singing 'We praise Thee, we bless Thee,' I looked at her, and her eyes were full of tears. No doubt it was a mood ; no doubt the mood passes, but while it is there there can be no doubt of its sincerity. How impossible that she should pose, to me, too, of all people? She ( \ I a a f / The Money Market. 81 has a most cxlraordiiiary power of syiiipatliy. Do you reineiiibci how delightful she was to Blessiug- tou (lowu at Abbots worthy ?" "While we were having tea, do you mean?" asked Blanche, not without purpose, but wonder- ing whether her reception of lilessingtou had gone from Percy's mind. But he answered at once : '^ At tea? No. What happened at tea? I mean wlien we went to the housekeeper's room to see the linen-pattern panelling." Blanche found it hard to be loyal at this point, but .she replied bravely, thou;rli feebly : "Yes, she has a wonderfully winning manner." "Of course she is by herself," said Percy, "only she is the best instance I know of what I mean by saying that variety can be perfectly sincere. But there are plenty of instances." Blanche frowned. "But Percy," she said, "it always seems to me that manner— I am speaking quite impersonally, of course— is like .style in literature. In itself it may be beautiful, but it may be very dangerous. The book itself may be poisonous, and if so the attractiveness of its style is an evil instrument. So is manner in a poisonous person." "Oh, I disagree," said Percy. "If you read a book critically, in the only way in fact in which any work of art should be looked at, what you admire is the beauty of the presentation. Even a hue presentation of a repulsive subject is, to the V ?!■] 82 The Money Market, critic, perfectly without blame A'i c»k- . subject-matter for Art- 1^.^* ^^""^ ^'^ to make a J.J ■ requires a Flaubert judge." ^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^ we should man poisons his father sracefu Iv w , °^ "' ^ ness to condemn the acf rt ft 7 '" "° ''"^'■ Percv wr,=f » <; ,; ^"e style saves it. Oh " I don't say that at all," he said " v„, concern yourself either with Irt nr T T" you mnst not mix them up J T ' ''"' rs,r^ficfcot'o7'it"' "T" '-- trement ■p. iS\rt?m y%',!:^rirt''°'"' °^ father. " l^^'^Moiy justify poisoning one's BllIC '°"'' "^"^ "^^" "'^'•'" -claimed ' tl.at is, to the realm of Art IT' *' ^^''^^- cerned as tolheS.e acttd th "' "' °"'>' ™- ctacr ne acted the scene well. We (• i I 'and f i The Money Market. 83 accept the fact that the dramatist has a right to put a poisoner on the stage." "Oh, Percy, you don't see what I mean!" she cried. " Let me begin at the beginning. Do you regard your fellow-creatures from an artistic or a moral point of view?" Percy thought for a moment. ' Most people are so inartistic, that you cannot regard them from an artistic point of view at all," he said. "But very few people are so immoral that you cannot regard them from a moral point of view. So I suppose one regards one's fellow-crea- tures from the moral point of view." ''You are talking like a decadent or a cynic," said Blanche. "They are equally detestable." "No, there you are wrong. Also, you are allowing yourself to speak strongly. The cynic is the lowest of God's creatures, without any ques- tion, I am not— -I assert I am not— among the lowest of God's creatures ; I know many lower." ^^ "That is beside the point," said Blanche. "What you have admitted is, that you regard your fellows from a moral point of view. Then you cannot judge them as you would judge a book ; style cannot save them." "Well, if I grant that, what then?" asked Percy. "I don't see what you are driving at. Why are you falling upon me with such extraordi- nary vigour?" Then like a flash it came over Blanche that !;l i. f ij 'I 8i The Money Market. what she was driving at was Svhil Tf causine- her pv*^g f^ k^- • , ^ ^ccimg, wJiich, & iier e>es to briin with tear«: of fi,^ r^ ness of tlmncri^f 1 . ^-"^ the instantaneous- c, UMJ ' 1 ' ^ ^^ anxious to believe ,•« nner consccsness proposed a reply, "Because I_a,„^Jea,o„s of her." And wit,/th;t httee for the first cvcle of ^''^> --^"^^^ to Baireuth consider her actions where Perov .Jt Ki concerned .nuch .nore carefi'^fo; e fut .' e"^^ ;Tan r;nf ^"^-f '-^^ '-' ra^n-dropf be.at - ■ .-!n ...e overchar<,,ed clouds, and Percy hur- i t The Money Market. 85 ried away in order to get home before the storm began. Had he known it, lie had left another storm in Blanche's heart, imminent, threatening to burst. ^ That evening it so happened that her father and mother were both dining out, and she was left alone at home. She dined by herself, and after dinner went up to the drawing-room, threw the windows open, for it was still stifling, and, drawing her chair outside into the thick hot darkness, had an honest half-hour with herself. ^ She was disposed at first to treat that little inward voice which had suggested that she was jealous of Sybil, as an ignorant and impertinent bystander, the cry of a street boy; but if it was, why liad she been startled? Had the accusaiion meant nothing at all to her, there would have been no reason in allowing for the possibility of its truth -It would have been unintelligible, a message in an unknown tongue ; yet, in consequence of it, she was looking out into the darkness determined to argue the matter out, yet shrinking from it with an uncontrollable shudder. Decidedly, the suggestion had come from some part of herself, some mean and uncnaritable part perhaps ; but still, sugges- tions from any quarter ought to be given serious consideration. Supposing some other of her friends had been engaged to Sybil, would the question WdcuKi- oy Oil was insincere or not have appeared so vitally important to her? ;.ue knew it would not 86 The Money Market. III B She leaned back in her chair, and clasped her hands behind her head. It was a favorite atti- tude with her, and, her body being completely freely'' '"'' ''''' '" "^"' "^^^^ "-- -oTe Well, if the fact that Sybil was to marry Percy was more important than if she was to marry some- body else where was the reason for it? Certainly because she liked Percy more than she liked any- one else ; or, if not that, because he deserved a better wife than anyone else. Supposing theii-to give herself every chance- that Percy was engaged, not o Sybil, but to an epitome of all the vktues would she be satisfied? And the answer came instantly, "No! the epitome of all the virtues would be a prig." These thoughts might be salutary, they were certainly impleasant. The inevitable conclusion was, that she liked Percy more than she liked any- body else. And in the darkness Blanche felt the blood rush to her face, and she stood up. "I am a wicked little fool !" she said aloud. M^ru u ^'''''^ ^^'""^ ''"^^^' ^^'^ ^^^^^"^e practical. Which was the greater evil-to avoid Percy, and hus make herself ridiculous and incomprehensible to him and to all those who knew how intimate they had been ; or to put a stopper on all her internal nonsense, and continue her lines of frank comradeship towards him ? She had some idea at me moment that the question was crucial, but she The Money Market. 87 decided almost without thought. It would be too absurd to appear to break with hin,, it was also inconceivable Then, as her thinking was done to th?"^'^''^^""^ ^"' "^^^ l^ayofL overture to the Meistersingers, the " III H (1 ; I f I ' CHAPTER Vn. Parsifal A FORTNIGHT afterwards they left Undon for Baircuth. They were to stay, not at the place itself but at the village of Fantasie, half an hour's drive off. As a party they were very typical of other parties. Lady Otterbourne went because she was tired with the London season and meant to have an Idle week ; Sybil, who was musical in a kind of second-hand manner and admired what she was told to admire, went because she felt she ought to so fit was so tiresome when eveiyone was talking about Baireuth m the autumn not to have been) ; Lady S oak ey went because everybody else went ; while Blanche and Percy went because both of them regarded Wagner as the supreme artist of all the ages. Percy had been twice before, Blanche never and she looked forward to it with the awe of a viU grim gomg to Jerusalem. She expected a sort of revelation, and an initiation into mysteries They arrived at Fantasie on Saturday, and the first performance of Pars^/^/ ^^s to be on the next day. They drove into Baireuth, breathing deep of the scent of the pinewoods, and hmched tliere and strolled about the gardens. Before long they heard the mo^t/of the first act sounded on the horns, and tuey went oack to the theatre. Lady Otterbourne, The Money Market. 89 Sybil, and Udy Stoakley liad found several people whom they knew, and they were talking and laugh- ing together as they walked towards the theatre Blanche and Percy strolled behind, and as they entered Blanche touched him suddenly on the arm I am frightened, Percy," she said. "Suppos- ing I am disappointed ! ' He smiled. ''You will not be disappointed, Blanche," he replied. They were among the last to enter the theatre and almost immediately after they had got to their seats the great silence, like some flowing tide grow- ing deeper and deeper every moment, began to fill the theatre. Blanche felt it was like diving down and down into still black waters. Gradually the house grew darker, and at the last, from the unseen orchestra, came the first notes of the prelude After the phrase had been given out, it was again repeated covered as with a veil by the rising arpeggios on' the violins, and borne away. Again it was wailed out in the minor, and again carried oflf; and after a pause the Dresden "Amen" fell full and firm on u^ ^m'; ^^^"^ ^^^"^ov^^^ the seven notes of the Grail motif repeated and again repeated, but falling the third time into the minor. Once again the Amen " followed, and then the armies of sound began to collect and gather ; stream after stream fed -1 e,, -.«.., vviiiSpciuig -'The (^raii,- till at last the roll was complete, and the air was thick with 90 The Money Market. \ that one melody, rippling in the treble, marching through the middle octaves, thundered in the base and echoed again above. Soon the probation and temptation began ; broken reminiscences and half phrases of what had been complete and established died in the air ; a dozen times the violins tried to tell the story of the love-feast, but faltered and failed, and shivered into cries of wailing only half articulate. The struggle seemed hopeless ; yet they struggled on, till after the darkness came day and on the wings of the morning salvation, and at the end once more the "Amen" blessed and crowned the redeemed and ransomed. Blanche gave cue deep sigh, and half turned in her seat to Percy ; she could barely see him, but from the other side she heard Sybil whisper • " Oh Percy isn't it pretty?" and she could just see that he did not turn his head even, or reply to her. Next moment the curtain rose. When they came out for the hour's interval Blanche could not speak. She only wanted to go away somewhere in the woods alone, away from Sybil's rapturous and frequently expressed pleasure m the drama. " Oh, it was quite wonderful ! " she cried enthu- siastically to Percy. -And did you see the dear little bier of green leaves they made for the swan which Parsifal killed ? I thought that was so sweet of them. Poor Amfortas, I was so sorrv for him ■ and there was a wasp on Parsifal's bare arm I The Money Market. 91 noticed, Percy, and he didn't stir a mnscle ; it was crawling np him from wrist to shonlder. Wasn't that extraordinary of him ?" Percy frowned; something in this speech set his teeth on edge. "Of conrse Vandyk is a real artist," he said ; "it wonld have been much more extraordinary if he had moved." "Well, I should have screamed," said Sybil ; "I can't think how he managed to keep still." Percy did not reply, and his eyes wandered to Blanche who was sitting a little apart. "Come, we must have dinner," he said. "Let us go to the restaurant. Well, Blanche, and did you find it disappointing? " Blanche looked at him a moment without reply- ing. Then, " No, I was not disappointed," shesaid and the soberness of her reply pleased him. Sybil and her mother were in the best of spirits and girt themselves about with the atmosphere of the Savoy restaurant. The Harrogates had a table close to theirs, and they shouted a rechaiiffce of the latest gossip across to each other, and posted each other up in all that had not taken place since they saw each other last in London : "Yes, it was really true that the Willoughby marriage was off, and was it not terrible for poor Lily ? She had to send all the diamonds back • but ^.. u rras 4UJLC hcr owu lault, ai'i ■ she would behave so stupidly, of course no mai could W\ ■/ I It; m ■I ' Hi" ■ 92 7"// °"'' ""^ ""'^^ "^^y ''"-" -' Car- Then followed a series of enigmatic allusions and screams of laught^ r. Very sad, was it not ^ but really too funny for words. ^The cZe sarion »oo„urned on Wagner, and Lady Harroga e id t made her feel qn.te uncomfortable, as if someone had been playing music in the middle of her H^ntasi. TheH..,..tiri,Sln;i: Svhir>;,'f ''"."'^•''^^ ^"^y Olterbonrne Id Sybil without much difficulty to stop for an hour or two; the others went back alone. Lady StoaUev was tired, and after supper she sat with then, on y a few minutes and then went off to bed, leaving the two seated in the verandah of the little hous! which Percy had taken for his party. For a long while they sat in silence; but each was strangeh excited, and each strangely conscious of the other Percy knew exactly how Blanche was feeling, and hem """"if ^y^P^'^y had been created befUL tnem. Great excitement and exaltation of the senses is certainly communicated without speech and It seemed to Blanche that it was a pity to tllk • for they were sharing each other's emotion'^n a new and startling manner, and the knowledge that Percv and she were partners of each other's unspoken at Car- llusions, it not? ersation :ate said iomeone of her nd Mrs. )nfessed :al-box. ning to ty after ne and m hour toakley m only eaving house a long angel y other, g, and ;tween »f the pcech, )talk; a new Percy poken TAe Money Market, 98 thoughts made her thrill and tingle. But the strain of the silence grew unbearable, and soon she <,' up and leant on the balcony in front of where he was sitting. 'I Oh, Percy ! " she said, and no more. "Yes, I know, I know," he replied, feeling also relief m speech. " It was music itself, was it not > and you have found out that hitherto ^•ou have been hearing only a translation of music. ' I felt it like that when I came here first ; and I think each time I have heard it, I have felt it more. One is like a deaf man made to hear, and I am too happy even to cry." "It was not only a revelation of music," said . Blanche ; " it was a revelation of everything and in i particular a revelation of oneself It seemed to show me all sorts of experiences which I have lived through, but of which hitherto I have been uncon- I scions. Once, I don't know when, I was Parsifal once I was Kundry ; I have suffered with the pain of Amfortas ; I have been a knight in the worship of the Holy Grail ; I have starved for the Salutation of the I.ord, like Titurel ; I have been Klingsor in his i-iiagic castle ; I have waited for the long-delayed return of Parsifal, and one Good Friday, when the hawthorn was in bloom, he came and knelt in prayer by the spring. I was there: I saw him." " Ah ! you have felt that, too," said Percy, rising and standing by her. '^ More than ever to-day I have been conscious of it. Who am I? Am I Percy IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 1.0 I.I 1^ lis lliio 2.2 11:25 i 1.4 m III 1.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation V ^ .^ r<\^ c\ \ ^>^ 6^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 (7)6) 872-4503 ^ 5^^^ ^ .^\^^ ^ 4^c .'.<^ ■I I m 94 T/ie Money Market. Gerard? Am I one of those that we have been see- ing in Parsifal? Indeed, I do not know." " I cannot tell you/' said she. " Oh, Percy this won t do ! Has Wagner bewitched us all ? What has happened to me? Is it a trick? My nerves are all strung up tight and twanging. I am terribly ex- cited ; I could scream or burst into tears with hap- pmess. I could paint a picture or write a poem or compose an opera. All these, and all at once, and now Percy laughed. " You probably could, if it could be done in a moment. Achievement is nothing but a passion- ate effort. So few people achieve, simply because so lew people are capable of passionate effort If one could only keep it up ! But it is not given one to live on the edge of one's limitations. Something gives way-and we collapse, like a pricked bubble You look very tired to-night. Excitement is the most tiring thing in the world. You will probably sleep to-night as if you were dead." " Sleep ! I couldn't sleep. Why should I sleep ? I want to run and howl. I have been shown a mystery ; I am initiated. I have penetrated into a realm which I never dreamed of before. Sound i There is nothing in the world so marvellous!" Percy turned suddenly and faced her. " Blanche, I wish we had come here alone " he said. "Just you and I. Udy Otterbourne doesn't care a rap for it : and Sybil, poor darling, she tries The Money Market. 95 been see- ercy, this What has :s are all ribly ex- vith hap- poem or >nce, and one in a passio.i- because Ofort. If iven one tnething bubble, t is the robably [ sleep ? hown a I into a Sound ! ne," he doesn't le tries so hard to be appreciative, and she appreciates it all wrong. She said it was pretty ! Pretty ! The over- ture to Parsifal pretty ! Of course I love having her here, but I would sooner be anywhere else in the world with her. Quite suddenly to-day I felt that there was a great piece of my life— a great piece of me— in which she had no share. At this moment that oppresses me terribly. Away from here I shall not remember it. But here " Blanche made an immense call on her loyalty. For an ignoble woman, for one who did not recog- nize the great, clean human distinction between what is right and what is wrong, it would have been a dangerous moment. For her it was only a difficult one. She laughed lightly and naturally. " Happy are the couple who only are not in ac- cord about Baireuth," she said. "But what in Heaven's name did you expect? You were wanting an impossibility. She is not musical, you must have known that." Percy shook his head. " It was not the music she did not appreciate," he said. "It was the— the It, the whole thing, Parsifal in fact. She did not know it was there. Oh, Blanche, it is so nice to be able to talk to you like this ! " Blanche felt a secret and, her conscience told her, an evil joy in finding that Percy had perceived the inability of Sybil to appreciate It. She disliked herself for being capable of such a feeling, but it 96 The Money Market. was there ; she was ashamed of it »n^ .. ,. ■' close. Percy had not the sma lest ^w ""F^^ science in so speakin<, H .}^^ '*'"ge of con- ashamed of himself L . n-^'^"" ^ ^-^'l have felt did not care irf the det"l fv "."^ "■^' S^"'' church ofthelnnoc n i At fhf '''"' °" *"^ felt acute disappointme^f » ,. '''"'^ '™^ ^e had first act. He h!d h '"^ f ''"' ""'^'^"^ on the i' would Imve impS f "-' J'S-nst hope that only she had sIm ^0?,! I '''*'-^"">'- Even if n.ost faith haretred^e; Z" hW/'^ «" were too deep for words If X Za 'Noughts that a look, a pressure rf th e hand a b^^ °v ^^'"^" '"■" were, he would have filled ^nn.'l^'' '''^<1"^ '''^ i* ;;o-. Butshehadheel!tl:^It:d'r/;""; the wasp on Vandvk's arm fi. if r ^'"Sfled out fortheswan,asthethj::rft^;^^^^^^^^^^ admirable, and they had impress Jr!t ^ "^^^ tut it was like coLe , W :.1l e' ''^•''^°°<^' of the little toe of the Hermes of Pr.Tr''' '^"^^^ moment of seeing the sVaZ r ., ^"^"^'cs, on the the lips should have b n'dumb L^th'e'™^"''™ J.therspokeforamome„?orttf?ren^- this f r^ U'atTere TV'^ "^^^'^^ ^^"- on so sweet in its pas 1. h "'""'' ^"'' ^^^^h dav, ber. And i m'akes fw;r' "' ^'°^^^ '» Septem! have a friend "ke you'"^l,,rf" -"Pjf'- ""•" ^ I hear their wheels." ' ^'^ ''"'^'^ ^"'v ! le hugged ?e of con- have felt iiat Sybil !s on the le he had 3 on the lope that Even if the ut- hts that ^en him nie as it of mil- ?Ied out 1 leaves ey were Osgood, ^ shape on the J when dim. m said ow on h dav, ptem- :hat I -arly ; T/ze Money Market. 97 They had arranged to spend eight days at Bai- reuth, thus seeing the whole cycle once, and Parsifal twice ; but next day, at lunch, both Sybil and Udy Otterbourne were eager to stay another week if Percy would be very sweet and stop too. They had both enjoyed their supper-party tre- mendously, and Lady Harrogate, who was one of those women who are really a sort of " Extra Spe cial," with all particulars of scandalous news, had simply been too amusing for words. Her narty it appeared was also going to stop a fortnight, and life in this dear little Bavarian village was quite charming, especially since Percy had brought an admirable cook. "It would be so delicious to see each opera r'"';, -^^t ^^'^^'^ ' " ^"^ '^ ^^^y ^« t^^^"^ ^ well as they did Parsifal yesterday, I should like to hear one every day for the rest of my life. Oh, it was too beautiful!- and she helped herself largely to some pate. s y ^^^ ^ "There is the question of tickets," said Percy I don't know if we can get five tickets for the next cycle, but I will enquire to-day." ^ "Oh, never mind if you can't," said Sybil. In any case the Harrogates are stopping on, and they have arranged a couple of picnics next week on the days that Tristan and the Meistersingers are to be given, and mother and I thought that we would go to them." Percy sipped his glass of wine without replying. ,^^ 98 I ' The Money Market. Syb,l was not qu.te ingenuous, he thought. Why not have said at once, that she wished to stop on in order to go to the picnics ? ^ " said^^'w!"'? ''%''°'' ^' ^" f^^' ^bout it," he said. Which performance do you want to SL next week, Udy Otterbourne > " ^^ '° "I wanrto T\ '\f\ '° ^"^••" '^^ ^-d. frankly. ,hi.T, ■, ^^ ""'" ""^week; but ne.xt week I pt, " ; '° "''^ "! '""^ P'"^--'» -"so to picnics. I am perfectly straightforward I want to stop at Baireiith, and hear no music." ' min J'T " T}"1^ '° '"'""■'■""^ ^' l^"owing one's ™.nd, langhed Percy. <.Aiid yon. Lady Itoak! she'sai"""ff ^t"^,r ^°"^''^' ^ I ^"-"ged." sne said , for Stoakley and I are going to st-v It ;'But yon will leave Blanche ?" said Percy. be so kfnd" f T f ' ^"^ ^^''y Otterbourne will oe so kind as to be chaperone " ;; Delighted," said Lady Otterbourne. .. And you, Blanche ? " asked Percy ance:,"''srBLtr°''^"'^°'°^""'^'^-^-- ''Good, Sybil?" "I should like to see Parst/a/ once more " saiH Sybil, -and-and Ithink Tain/unJr'Z% / It. Why stop on It It," he to go to frankly. t week I nd go to I want ng one's ^ Stoak- anged," » stay at will be y. ne will rform- " said tothe > very The Money Market, 99 difficult and long, and Udy Harrogate said the Meisterstngers was one long banking from be^iu- ning to end." Percy smiled. '*Very good. But ask Udy Harrogate if she doesn't remember a song called the ' Preislied ' ni see about the tickets when we go in to-day We must start in half-an-hour." "That is sweet of you, Percy," said Sybil. You ve no idea how I enjoyed Parsifal. How I look forward to next Sunday ! And it is Tann- hanser to-day, is it not ? I long to see Tannhduser agam ; it is perfectly thrilling." There was found to be no difficulty about getting fresh tickets, as some half-dozen had been returned at the last moment, and all but Udy Stoakley stopped on. Udy Otterbourne since Sybil's engage- ment had completely buried the hatchet as far as sh_^ herself was concerned ; the other had failed, and she had no animosity left against the vanquished, bhe had also another reason for wishing to stay on which she had mentioned as yet to nobody. Her bill with its terrific accumulation of interest fell due on the fifteenth of October, and it had been now arranged that Percy and Sybil were to leave England directly after the marriage and spend six weeks cruising in the yacht. They both loved the sea and they had planned to be away till early in November. Udy Otterbourne had rather opposed the scheme; she said it was far more sensible and I* 1 ) iP 100 I if I i; I t w i. ILi J ,v| '! I ^/^^ J/^;/^j. MarJte/. civilised to ^o and l,\r« • for a weaker two Zt 'l:'""'}T'y ^'^'^ house press her objection n fon '°? ?°' ---^^onably °"cethe„,a4gewLoverl ,"'"' "'^' ^''^" ''•" t- "er bi,! .::rd, e ^Id' -t' "°' "^ '^'■^>' somehow, since she had „„ "^^^ necessary »ake kn<;wn to hr^ hfr ° T"'."^ ""''"'"S it, to «'>e was disgusted a her „ ° "''■ ^'''^^''y worst moment to c^^elrr'.' "'ought of the bad one then was „! "''^ "''^ ^^^ shirked the 'eft Baireuth C^S^'^' '° '"• ^^en they ^■-es, and, mJuT.H^ i^^J^^^^y^t --«! of her confession, she realized 7w ! """""ence get it over here than to hte ,> h ^"^ ''^"^^ '° "eek, and perhaps run the risk 3'"!":;^. ^""0 ''^ introduce the subject "°' ''^'"e able to ^'^^t^^:-:^^- -p- He August, and he would 1,= • ** '""'die of been otherwise eriS/?!! "^"^<'. '^ he had no. =>ble. It was also vfrv iltl T"^ "^^'^' ^^ P"" jogically to wa,cl.Te "efef :? tl° 'r P^^'"^- Blanche. He had always kZT i ''""^^ "" ■nusical, though hiS sheTad :,Tr'^'r^'>- much, and Baireuth seem«!i ! \ "°' ''eard very the bottom of he soul V "i''^ '"°™' ^er to vivid ; she noted fresl L.^ /k'''^ ''"' «^^" -""^e in the interweavinrif'^d tl ^^^"'y^"'' strength and accounted for hefownTulr. '"'^ '"' '""^''^ "wn impressions with an ex- e's house easonably ^lat when see Percy 'lecessary ing it, to Already not tell- ^t of the ked the en they various ninence stter to md her able to 3. He Idle of id not IS poy. syclio- as on 2niely very ler to more •ngth T/ie Money Market. kjj traordinary reasonableness ^\y^ \. a instinct for what was ^od b^t at m" '•"'"'"« rami- ci,. ij b""a> out, and this is much rarer, she could say why she fouud it so She seemed, for instance, that evening after thev dtur;' ^""""'."^'':i '° — er the rfddle of th^ alThk ll ^'7r J''^"fi'^''"°'' f°r what Percy, w h Art walT '/f '''^^''"' fr°" morals ;ree Art was concerned, had always considered a dfffi! ha7s^rtote:tv;:;"""°"i '^. ^'"-'--" >- evening. " For mvse f L \''""°^ ''°'"' "^^^ jHe an o, ,.;S;4%^r; ^M-li%^^^^^ It ^t^Thr^'^e x^f„^^^^^^^^ ^^ >- ^-^ lighthearted and brtim! wrer.'L''"'^^ andtceti^^tcrnnoTh 'f" ""^'"'>'' ""' »»"« absuM- a^Studero'lteT ' "°'^' "' ^"' ">=" '^ - Blanche shook her head W, hut it is comp,et:,^'Sl-"-:-f -.J 'h[ ,.:|! 1 iff it t't 5 r;!i 102 T/ic Money Market. healthy real strength is ! It cannot even be anythijur else than healthy. Strength always, always, alwaxs implies perfect health. It cannot exist without But I do not mean by strength what horrid little men with long hair, who write bad poetry, call par ful ; I mean real strength, that is the secret. Here if yon like, it is treatment only that makes the thing possible, as you said to me once in Lou- don. Think of the maudlin, sugary, how-naughty- we-are garden scene in Faust, That is 'par'ful' and simply disgusting. In Tanuhauser you have exactly the same situation. But Tannhauser is healthy, bracing, what you will, because it is strongly done. Nothing is shirked, which is always a healthy thing. If you take as your subject the everlasting struggle between the higher and the lower man, state your case. It is only when you cover over a point with innuendos and phrases capa- ble of two interpretations that the thing rots and breeds corruption ! ' ' Blanche spoke with extraordinary vehemence, and Percy was fairly astounded by the uniformity of her view. She might be right or wrong, but certainly she was vivid. Tristan, Lohengrin, and the Meister singers fol- lowed during the week; and Blanche, considering she had only seen Wagner before on what she called the great comic opera stage at Covent Gar- den, continued to make the most surprising dis- coveries. About Tristan she would not speak, she The Money Market, ^ s>ing. All, that is exactlv if t^ ; n ten in the same time e^ceo^on. . ''" '^"'- Percy referred to theseore inl "'"'""''"■'•" him before that this w- sTh' ^'' ""^"' '''""^'' Blanche was fonn',,-;: rperfXtht'^'^^""' ^"" Sybil meantime rave ntteranro f^ f i ;: he 'best to hI:.'" '^'^^'^^ "'^' ^he had doTe — tbetihrk^r. ^^- -^" expressed solie t^d ° for hTh °d r'^' ''^"^ :nt:-fS;;-f"Si^.o^"-^^^^^^ her nTo a ea rt2 Lf d-r' '° '•""• ""^ ''^ ?«' <-arriage, but did not offer a was, a little too much nterested in «io u > opinions on Warner- b„f nt, T Blanche's wdgner, but on those occasions when ! I I w !■ :..! 'I 104 The Monry Market. she had entered some discussion of theirs she no- ticed that, thougli he replied to her readily cnongh her contributions to the conversation had the un^ fortunate effect of paralysing the others. Besides It was impossible to hazard a contribution to the justification of augmented intervals when one did not know what an augmented interval was, and so tor the most part she kept quiet when such subjects were i„ the air. She felt now and then a little out of It; but knowing, and having excellent reason to know, that Percy was completely in love with her she agreed, sensibly enough, that his interest in Blanche was merely intellectual. I ;;■ :t I CHAPTER VIIL Lady Ottcfbourne's Difficulty. Am. through that week Udy Otterbourne's anxie- ties had gradually been getting insupportable, and she deternnned on the earliest opportunity to con- fide the enormity of her affairs, this time without reserve, to her future son-in-law. She was a woman of courage, and she did not as a rule flinch from a necessity, when she faced it as such, though she was often disposed to deny as long as possible that anything unpleasant was imperative. When a thing certainly had to be done, she did it, and wasted no idle and bitter reflection on the necessity It was perfectly clear to her that this thing had to be done; otherwise there was no doubt that the house of Samuelson would, as the junior partner had so politely phrased it, " adopt the usual course " and the thought of " the usual course" made h^r feel cold. After they left Baireuth she could not be certain of seeing Percy again with sufficient pri- vacy; no doubt opportunities might occur, but here he was with them all day, and as the thing had to be done, it had better be done now. Saturday gave her the disliked and desired op- portunity. There was no opera that day, and, Ts the weather was very hot they had decided at lunch 105 I u ■ ' I • » tit :,S I J m 106 The Money Market. L'i i ' I WiS> X"'' I u not to go out till tea-time, when the s(:ress of the heat would have abated. After lunch tlieyhadall sat for a while on the verandah; but first Blanche and then Sybil had gone in, and at the eid of half- an-hour Percy, in a state of extreme relaxation from heat and lunch and continued cigarettes, was left alone with Lady Otterbourne, who was doing needlework very badly. Sybil knew that needle- work well ; it only appeared on occasions of anxiety, and it had long been to her a sort of sign that some- thing of extraordinary import was at hand — a kind of storm-cone. So when she rose and went into the house to write a few letters, and observed that her mother did not follow her, she concluded for certain that she had something troublesome or im- portant to talk over with Percy. Lady Otterbourne was not easily balked or dis- heartened; but though in the course of her life she had been in some difficult places, she could not re- member ever having found herself in so thoroughly unenjoyable a situation. It was only better than *' the usual course." She had more than once thought of negotiating again with Percy through the medium of Sybil ; but she did not wisli Sybil to know the extent of her debt, nor indeed that she was applying to Percy again, and she had decided to get through her scene with him in person. To- day he was in a peculiarly relaxed and foolish mood, the effect no doubt of this emotional week succeeded by an off day. As he had told Blanche, i sbess of the tliey had all rst Blanche e:.id of half- i relaxation ;arettes, was ) was doing that needle- 3 of anxiety, n that some- and — a kind d went into bserved that nciuded for some or im- Iked or dis- her life she Duld not re- > thoroughly better than than once rcy through 'isli Sybil to ed that she had decided lerson. To- and foolish tional week )ld Blanche, T/ie Money Market. 107 to live on the extremes of your limitation entails a subsequent readjustment; and the readjustment was clearly on him. At lu^cli he had talked the most futile ana extravagant nonsense, and now he was lying at full lengtli in a long chair, with his whole mmd fixed on the blowing of one .noke ring through another-an arduous feat, for which both skill and luck are necessary. "It hardly matters at all," he said after accom- phshmg this with remarkable success, " what one lays onejs hand to, provided one does it with all one's might. Considered in the scale of ultimate good, the best and noblest thing which a man can do, is so infinitesimal. And the best and noblest thmg has often a great deal of resultant evil in it We are like children trying to draw a beautiful face. Behold, when it is done we find that we have made a satyr. And then we go about trying to persuade other children that it is beautiful, and for the most part we succeed. Now, there is no such objection to smoke rings. They are entirely and absolutely innocent, and of a pure and globular nature like microbes. And then if one blows smoke rings one doesn't inhale the tobacco Also one smokes quicker, which is good for the cigarette- makers. Finally, one always thinks that one can blow a better one than one has ever yet blown, which is a fine and stimulating reflection." ^ Percy delivered himself of these surprising futili- ties with great gravity and slow enunciation. He I H.: I \h i I : ■ i t'i 1 f 1 k 1 4' if ^ k' i , i I tr : III ill 'i i. Ill f ^ ,■$ 108 T/te Money Market. spoke as if nothing in life was so important. Lady Otterbourne laughed with a little nervousness, and he went on : "To-day I have acute paralysis of the will," he said. "I have a dozen letters which simply must be answered to-morrow. I daren't think what will happen if I don't answer them. And I shall not answer one of them — not because I won't, but be- cause I can't. If a coach and four was to drive down this verandah, do you suppose I should move out of its way . Not a bit of it. I might give one exclamation of passionate dismay, but I should not move. I would not move for the eight cream- colored horses of the Queen with their false tails." This was worse and worse. Lady Otterbourne pricked herself violently with her needle in agita- tion. "Oh, Percy !" she said, " without exception you are the happiest person I know. You are desper- ately interested in many things, and, to crown all, you have the power of loafing, which most energetic people lack, and which nobody can be complete without. Give me the receipt for h.^ppiness." "To be engaj^ed to Sybil," he replied promptly. " And to blow smoke rings." " I can't be engaged to Sybil. Will nothing else do?" " Yes, I suppose plenty of other things will do, until you are engaged to Sybil. Certainly I was very happy before I ever saw her. The chief of the :ant. Lady usness, and lie will," he imply must k what will I shall not n't, but be- as to drive hould move ^ht give one should not ght cream- false tails." 3tterbourne le in agita- ception you are desper- > crown all, st energetic )e complete iness," i promptly. lothing else iigs will do, :ainly I was chief of the The Money Market. 109 other things is, never to worry. Che sara sara Jt IS no use fussing and fiddling with one's destiny." Ah, but who shall say what is one's destiny ?" asked Udy Otterbourne. " Some things seem un- avoidable ; but perhaps if one made sufficient effort they would not be." ' "•^J'l!T \^T^ ^^'^^"'^ ^^ '^y^ 'Never make an effort, '' said he, " though ' Always make an ef- fort would be truer in most cases. What it really comes to is, ' Never make an unnecessary effort ' And never make an effort when a thing is done never try and grab backwards ; you cannot catch It : and never, oh, never, indulge in regrets. Tliey are useless and poisonous, and most tiring. Spend your strength in making the best of what remains bo much more always remains than what has been taken from us. Dear me, I am afraid I am gettiug more fatuous than ever." Lady Otterbourne put down her needlework. ' I don't find you fatuous," she said. "If you knew It, you were speaking wonderfully to the point. You are saying things which have a valua- Die bearing for me." Percy threw away the end of his cigarette, and sat up. The time for smoke rings, he suspected, was over. ' uw^'?, ^rf something to tell me," he said. What luck ! I love hearing things. It is even pleasanter than sayin- them. But first, there is nothinjj wrong with Sybil ?" 1 H ! " 1 ii 1^ if (I a 110 T^e Money Market. ' ' Dear child, no," said Lady Otterbourne. " But —but I find it difficult to tell you. I do not find that saying this is pleasant." " Do tell me," said Percy. " Take a long breath and tell me." Lady Otterbourne took up her needlework again, and began to sew savagely. " I am in great difficulties, Percy," she said, " and I ought to have told you long ago. I ought to have told you when you were so generous to me before !" "Oh, it's only money!" said Percy, half with relief, half with disappointment in his tone. "Ah, there you speak with the blissful ignor- ance,'' she said. " If you only knew how awful money is to those who have not got it. To have plenty, you assure me, is no pleasure ; I assure you that not to have plenty is not pleasurable either. Well — when you were so generous to me I could not bring myself to tell you all." "Why not?" asked Percy, in frank surprise. " I don't know. I couldn*t. Yet even while I was keeping something back, I knew I should have to tell you sometime." " Promise me then one thing," said he. " I will promise you anything." " Promise me that you will tell me all now. Oh, my dear mother, it is of no use to — to conceal things from one who really, as you know, finds the greatest pleasure in helping you, in doing anything to make you or Sybil happier. So tell me." The Money Market, 111 >urne. " But I do not find a long breath ework again, le said, " and ought to have D me before !" y, half with I tone. lissful ignor- 1 how awful it. To have I assure you irable either. • me I could surprise, even while I [ should have he. dl now. Oh, — to conceal ow, finds the iug anything 1 me." ** I will tell you all," she said. " Some time ago I borrowed ;^ 12,000 from a money-lender. The interest has been accumulating ever since. The debt is now ^15,600— that is to say, it was in June. It has been renewed again for six months— no, not quite six, but till the middle of October." "At what percentage?" asked Percy. He had lit another cigarette and was smoking quite con- tentedly. "Sixty per cent." " That will make it between eighteen and nine- teen thousand, will it not ?" he asked. "About that." . Suddenly a distressing thought struck him. The f debt was due on the 15 th October— a month after the marriage. He could not help remembering that I^ady Otterbourne had been incomprehensibly unwilling that they should go yachting. The thought was a nasty taste in the mouth. "Of course it shall be paid," he said quietly, " though I cannot pay it till my birthday. But that will be on the 15th September. That is all right, then. Oh, tell me the name of the money- lender ; I will pay it dire-t, for there is no reason why you should be mixed up in these things." " Samuelson, of Jermyn Street," said Lady Otter- bourne. "What a greedy name! How horrid it must have been for you all this time. Oh ! one more promise. I insist that you shall never refer directly 1 (^ ■'' 'J:|J 1 V! ( t 112 The Money Market. or indirectly to the matter again. If yon don't say Yes at once, I will bny the debt from the old Jew and sell you np myself. Qnick, please, promise ! " I promise," said I^ady Otterbonrne more to be said ; and with yonr leave I will say some of It," continued Percy, withont a panse Supposing yon blew them in a temperature very greatly be ow zero, would the damp particles of one s breath turn them into ice ? If so they would in " w"'^ " i?'i "^"''^ ^""^^ ^^ ^^'y disconcert- ing. We should have to invent ring-blowers' nose- protectors How lucky I am that the tcmpl- ire IS not below zero. Gracious, how hot it is ^ We' wTtn '^'^f^^'"^- ^«- "ot get nnbear-" able. What shall we do this evening? We mirrht drive out after tea, and those who'are eneS of whom I am not one, could walk back. I hate dnvmg out and walking back. What do you Udy Otterbonrne looked at him a moment with something like tears in her eyes. ''Percy," she said, almost in a whisper. tone^''" ^"^^^ ^^'''^' '" ^^^^^^^n^Iy matter-of-fact " Percy, may not I ?" ''Certainly not," said he, seeing that she could hardly speak. " Yon may walk or drive. That is all.^^ I shall go in and ask Sybil what she wants to 'on don't say 1 the old Jew -, promise!" ere is much 2 I will say It a pause, srature very particles of they would disconcert- 3wers' nose- e tempera- V hot it is ! get unbear- We might ■ energetic, :k. I hate at do you >ment with r. tter-of-fact she could . That is e wants to y/ir xlfoiiry Market. 113 And he hurried off into the house, thinkintr it better to leave her alone. He found Sybil writing letters, and, after arrang- ing with her, went to his own room. The inter- view with Lady Otterbourne had been harder for him than she knew. Why could she not have told hiin a couple of months ago about this wretched debt? Though he was generosity itself about nioney matters, he did not in the least care that he should be paying 6o per cent, for these months to a horrible money-lender ! Perhaps he could arrange with them to pay it off in September instead of October. Why could she not have come to him who, instead of a loan, would so willingly have made her a gift, and charged no interest ? Again do what he would, he could not help his thoughts recurring to that question of their spending the honeymoon on the yacht. Why had she not then, tor the second time, have told him of her diffi- culties ? It was impossible not to connect her objection to the yachting with that 15th October when the money became due. He hated to har- bour suspicions, but in a moment suspicion had shot Itself in his mind, and in the same moment was converted into certainty. Again, what he coveted from others was, to be trusted by them ; and of whom had he a better right to expect confidence than of Udy Otterbourne? He felt bitter and angry and disappointed. But soon his mood changed, and the invincible o 11 :-i t I'iit. I I .1 i*- \ 114 il ii ^1 f; ■'I ^/« Money Market. Money „ad ncv. .«ea:.. ' S^. ^t ,i .f ^'f ^i no experience in.? fi. / ^ to Jum ; he had what L :::; " t eat" H° t"r'^"«^' °f anger were selfish and Z'thf " r f^fT "'' lie had told Ladv ntt.,.i, ""^- ^^^giet also, as to be indulged He :^,';"™^',"^^ "" «°°'ion "ot remained, atd the^e aW ""'''"'" ''^^'"f ^^at been tak n Mea^Iif 'T '""""' "°^<= «■» ^^^ was calling him ^ ^'' ""'''^y' «"d Sybil the'^weigL'^hicrLrr '"" ■■'"■"^"^^ '■^-^ "-" noon made herself secure fro « ''th ' , ' ^"^'•■ referred to by the nrK, >? } ^ "*"^' course- she had not know "^T, "'' S^'""^'^". junior, sible expos .reoTtefn "rrr""''^^ ^°'' P^' S»e quite realised the mmetl "^^'""^ ''^^• Percy had done her and -^T. ■'"""'' ^'"'='' intensely grateful R,?. , '*'" "^^^ ^''^ ^^^ same fine^ratu"e »f ' ^'^''""^^ ''"^ «'e gratitude ^Z^L^^T^L^ f' ^"' "^^ grateful as the o-„nn<., i V^"'^- She was only is grateful to the eart, J I '" "'t*''"^ '"^ '^^""y shot plunges and m w^t i" ^'''''' "'^ ^"^■"ies' Fiuu^et,, and to whicli he owes hk i;r^ ci lan reasserted ■ to judge, so -Ii tlifficulties. ' J»"" ; he had nowledcre, of >itterness and egret also, as I emotion not best of what lore than has Vi and Sybil se had been m the mind I this after- ual course" son, junior, ies and pos- sessed her. vice wJiich ^ay she was is. of the -» and her e was only his battery e enemies' lire. She t it would earthwork uld never TAe Money Market. i 115 have managed without it. But neither giuiner nor Lady Otterbourne regarded their saviour with any passionate thankfulness. For one moment it js true, when Percy cut short her attempt to thank iim, she was moved and touched, but almost before he had vanished into the house she had no thoughts but those of relief at having escaped the hreatened danger. She realized, however, in the back of her mind, that it was possible that he might at some future occasion be her protection again. Slie did not attempt to make any further allusion on the subject to Percy, and though this was in accordance with his expressed wish and his real desire, he was surprised at it. They had a delight- fill drive after tea, and his future mother-in-law was in the best of spirits. She had scarcely known how heavy her load had been till it was removed. The next afternoon they went to the second per- formance of /'^r../^/. Percy again sat between Sybil and Blanche, and once more the overture was to both the picture of the pure man made perfect through suffering. The "Stainless fool" shook his head to the questions of Gurnemanz ; pi y touched him for the death of the swan he had kiUed ; the Grail was revealed to him ; and at the suffering of Amfortas, he clutched for a moment at us heart Percy was intolerably moved, and, with tnat sudden yearning for sympathy whi-^^ touches us all when our finest emotions are ...used, he I' I! l5 ! » fSl I < i I L 1 1 116 T/ie Money Market. turned and looked nf- c;,.k;i ^ ^"•■."ce. Her head r s^^d on';:!? ";-"-«!"? came evenly, she was rS aTle'; ' "" '"^"' h^fhr^tttTd^'^''''''^''''^'"'^''- To '"3 artistic instine , Ir'tt"'' '"'' ""«^'' ^" -d integral part oTi.ir." Ir/I ,; ;->■ /- moment that it was incredib l th^ i, " '°'' ^ and moved hi,„ so profo, fd,'' ,hon 7f '"""'"'^ been a luMaby to her-sCd tj'^™ "'""'>' for her than a dull sermon "J f T "° """'' there was no doubt of ^^1,^ T^' '""'''• '^<'' « 'ittle parted, s.eepLg itke Teh !f "&"'"' "P' qiiite cold at the dreadful tfc .. "^ ""'"'=<' would also snore Afte a f ^ •""'' ^"^^^^ ■"'''- smiled at him and "l- '^=^'"'"'"^5 she woke, «..;•• and inst"ant,;''fetsTe:;i^::"'' ■'' — whom her sleep had «• ^''O"' with Sybil, to "I thought^Llrr '" '"''"'="' ^pp^'i'c. fore," she IL "t'c "it wf '"'^^ ""-■" "- bring us here." ^' ''^ «^°°<' "f you to Percy laughed. fa.t'S;e?'"''''''°"^^"" ■'--<•• "Von were with dSty""' ''^ '"' ' '^^ '"'-'-■ " -'-^ Sybil. " My dear child," s.ai,l Percv " vn„ -n after Parsifal shot the sJIiTbortlS iri r answering her breath )inted. To vivified all I very real 3 him for a It touclied ave merely e no more nch. Yet rwith lips ie turned :rhaps she she woke, • wonder- vas over ; Sybil, to petite, than be- ' you to The Money Market, 117 die of the love-feast you awoke, and said to me, 'Isn't it wonderful?' and fell asleep again. Don't come into the next act, it will only bore you : and it would be dreadful if you snored." Sybil was offended. "And I suppose it would take away your pleasure in the music ? " she said. " Yes, it certainly would ; I could hardly attend at all in the last act. Come if you wish, of course, but I don't see what object is served by your being bored." "Or by your attention being taken off the staee " said Sybil. ^ ' Percy saw that Sybil was angry; but he felt that he was in the right, and did not see his way to alter his mind. " I did not mean to offend you, Sybil," he said, "and really I don't see that I have been unreason- able. If you enjoy it, come by all means, of course. But why bore yourself, and sit in a hot theatre mstead of in the fresh air ? If it only sends you to sleep ' ' "I wasn't asleep," said she. Percy did not say any more, and they turned to go back. The others were still sitting outside the restaurant, and Sybil left Percy and sat down by Blanche. In a few minutes the second motif was sounded, and they all got up to go to the theatre. He saw with mixed vexation anc' amusement that Sybil said a word to her mother and went in first so that she sat two paces off him. ' % 118 l!§ I ' I!? The Money Market. """g. and they alwlys denL t^ ' ^''^''"''"^ was surely „„.c'h si.„; e.to d ' t TIT"' , ?' case he reallv rnnl.i . , ^' ^"^ "* this sHouM p^ r„ z'Li^H ror let z'/ t martyr of Iierself rofi, ., ^"""ler act and make a '.adb'eenJr^enSTvi :■; tuTo^^ ^"^' of l>is eye he saw before I,! f. P "'^ ™™^'' "'at she was sitdig bolTunri<^hr '.T *'*™^<'- was fixed on the Irte,, f ' t"^. "'^' ''^'' 8"^^ up, as if the .uott s" Lw ' ''"^ "°' y^' S°''^ upon it. The "as 2 ^^''^T^ ^f ^''"S P'ayed '■""self a memal I't '^ ■"=«""■ ''^ ^^^^ being annoyed 'and f^rt'l'S*'"' "T"^' ^- ject altogether dismissed the sub- buf:trt:d^?retfwi.r^-'--"'- Syhn approaches ,.i.U^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 1 aifi ?vjt hear you, ' ' sai'H P^r^ ^--•,' -r-ot'sitS^sr^^ "'^"'' '''^u'i;:ai:r:n^^;'e"''^''''-''''»"erof T o^ rx ^^ ' ''^ more. i^ady Oitf-rboume had seen fT.of wrong, and before they we.Tt n """,'"-« "^'^ "ley went in again she spoke litesimal and to laugh at e people, lio lit to be told disgraceful :usation. It and ill this why Sybil and make a 'ledge wliat f tlie corner s darkened, lat her gaze Dt yet gone iing played n, he gave himself for 2d the sub- ain at al! , came out, judicial, last act?" ly; "but, flutter of hing was he spoke The Money Market. H9 with gre.it frankness and not a little hard common- sense to her daughter. '• VVhat has happened?" she demanded abruptly Percy has been very rude," she said. ''He told me I went to sleep during the first act." "So you did," said Lady Otterbourne ; " I woke you myself twice. I suppose you denied it. A gratuitous fib of that kind is simply pitiable Was that why you gave yourself absurd airs and would not sit next him during the last act? Ut us have no more of such nonsense." ;'It was Percys fault," said Sybil, flushing an- grily. * " Fiddlestick ! Of course Percy knows you are quite unmusical ; but he does not yet know, and it had better be long before he does, that you can give yourself silly airs like a school-girl. Well Sybil that IS my opinion ; but no doubt you will act as you think best." I-ady Otterbourne, having thus borne her testi- mcry, left Sybil to digest her words as she best might To the mouth they were bitter, but Svbil soon began to think that they were wholesome. Consequently when they went in for the third act she agam sat next Percy, and, taking off her left glove she slid her hand under cover of the darkness into his, and their reconciliation needed no words 1 i.!!' i'i I I'* '. .) f i ', . i* CHAPTER IX. The Broken Cast. Before her engagement to Percy Svhil Af. ^ had earned, perhaps unjustly, tSafacltr something of a flirt Rni- fi' ^^^^actei of being and it would be mor!t t r ^?" "^^>-»e, q..ite as much on her tT ,' ''^'^ ^"'°*<^'' ..egie, an A.n:.™ ' by b:>h ^TA: f ' .^""^ ^^^- Englishnian He snLV ! " '^'P^"^' «" in England, tho"ghTe e al: ZT ''"' '''" Hved the greater ^art of I .sthn th rt^Sr" ''"' yo-mg n..„ of abont thirty, extren el tolfr nTl'' >.e had fal enT ove wi h's'vW,""°';rt^ "^""^ Gerard carried anirfo^ ^h to ' i:"', "°' """^^ rapid courtship, it seemed v " hkety thTsTp ' fate would have t^W„ her Lr .• . ^ '' ' lWe^were,however:two%e^-:-,t^-;c^ I The Money Market. 121 bil Attwood ^ter of being m ugly one, at she fully during the 'lat she was ight present on. There he had be- though in d bestowed Arthur Car- respects an every year 'erica n and He was a lerant, im- >f indoniit- k^e manner not Percy Mpetuous, at Sybil's Atlantic, him : the first, that he spent so much of his time in nis native country ; the second, that he was liable to allude without shame or warning to the origin of his for- tune, which was enormous. But the origin of it was pig, neither more nor less, and he said so. He was a man of few words, and he appeared to take his ill-success in the matter of his marriage with calmness. He wrote Sybil a delightful letter of congratulation, and told Percy, with whom he was slightly acquainted, that he was a lucky dog. What he did not envy him was his mother-in-law ; for that lady, he considered, had led him on in an unwarrantable manner, and had cast him oflf again with almost disconcerting composure. Sybil, he confessed to himself, he thought had led him' on too ; but being naturally mof'est, he was willing to put this down to his own c^..iceit. On the subject of Lady Otterbourne his resent- ment was perfectly justified. Barring the two dis- advantages mentioned above, she thought he would make an admirable husband, and up till the day that Percy had proposed and been accepted she had kept him on hand. But then he got his dismissal at once. Percy was distinctly the superior article, and Mr. Carnegie, for all she cared, might go and fill himself with the husks that his own pigs ate. It was a little annoying to Sybil to find that the rejected one was among the party staying at the Montgomerys', with whom they spent a week after their return from Baireuth ; and it was even more '" Ji "I i, ;J1 |::,l r ■i:^ 1:^2 T/ie Monej' Market. annoying to find that he treated 1i.,- vt, , utmost indifference Tt ' '^' "^'^^ ^^^ quiet. Percy was there as well bnf fli. f„ \ eaiy, tliat there was no romance in life. I'ercy completed tl,e party Mrs M ' , ' ' ■'' istme, counted for two b„t her' In K ^T"'^' " other hand, connted for' ,'o e at U H ' °" "" me noiise, and Percy, who inclndprl fl,. c i ■ among the absorbing pursmts of . ^^ff'^?. plenty of entertainn.e^u' He fo"! IfX ' T^ -ast in Carnegie, and the Jnpe„tt":T"'"- ^ -.y wonia take one side of the stream, 6arnegie ^ lier with the ^nly polite as itation or dis- ie two seemed t, discontent- Ci 1 the house : friend, was ' Sybil, and ntgomery, it band, on the He was a ine face and 1 it any one seldom did. 2 to Goring, then begun, ? had. A ds close by fly-fishing Olid, found ^ow-enthu- oiiie hours : the shin- Ji, chcrish- liiig. She ight sonie- '<^ how, to ily, 1 Carnegie VV/r Money Market. 12) the other; and sonicLinics, from a sort of childish perversity, in tlie unformulated hope of recovering Percy from the fish, Sybil would attach lierself to the other. In this she signally failed ; for while he was fishing, Percy was sublimely unconscious of the behaviour of auything in this world except that of the trout, just as when he was listening to music the rest of the universe was a thing of smaller moment than the orchestra. Carnegie also seemed to pay no more attention to her than he would to a tree, or a flower in the grass. On one of these days they fished the stream several miles higher up, where it was smaller and harder of access, driving out and taking lunch with them Sybil again had joined their expedition, and she was unpacking the hamper for lunch under a tree some twenty yards away from the stream, as the two young men made a few final casts till it was ready. They had had but little sport in the morn- ing, and they were both anxious to have something better to show before they stopped for lunch. Sybil had not brought a knife, and she was get- ting rather impatient over the string of the hamper which was in a hard knot. She had called to Percy once to come and help her, but he had only said • " Don't bother about it. I will just fish up to the bend, and then Pll do it for you." In consequence she was feeling a little neglected, but determined to be severely magnanimous and get It done before he came. Vj H f! ■■ .; i ■■:j ! 124 T/ie Money Market, Right in the middle a "o, t I ^ I """ "^ '° ''• earnestness that the d" flv fi^I ,'"^ "'"' *^ Three flies, one after the'o^,e ^at dTo '° "" hnn, and lie snaon^d fi,» ,, ""^ "^^r heart in liis moTp '" "^ ' ^"''' "'"' his at the fl/ b^ m L^d f T' °^^"^ '""'• «- ™- "y, uuc missed it altop-eflif^r o«^ i, agam. This time he was fast T 1 ' t ^^ "^''^ to a delicious curve IT f, "" ' ""^ '°^ ^ent his h-ne scr^red out VrX':/^'^''' '''' ""barrin, for he was J^.^TCL\t:'' ^'" co'td^tthr nfr;' "T"' ^'''^^- -«« as Percy ^XfTlJ^tC'^^^-^^'^-, tliem the chances were a hundL f ^' '^^ ^"'""^ the fish ; at all cor H,t , ° °"^ '" ^^vour of them, ke was dasLinr' t '"T ^' '^^P' ""« "{ once he ju:;:,''^:^;'^ [ ;;r:2P7'. T ^^:^z^7zr^'^' ^-- -Xv him :: After a few minutes he be""" T'" "'"^ P™"^- he was perilous"y near th^r, /'',!• '""• "'°"8'' began to count Mn":: .I'ded "' "'= "^'^ "^"^^ cry^came"rr.%lf ^' "' "'' ■"''■"-'^' '^ -"-ng •' Oh, Perc)', do come ! » she cried di^:ri:Tef;rc:'f°^r^^^''"'''^'-"^''^'the ,„^. . ^ ."^^ ^°^ce; his line slackened fo . -eut, and „,stantly the trout was among tt Teedl I a 1] £ b tl here Percy as up to it. r with the es to see. down over ', with his He rose d he cast s rod bent - fish, and iven were sh. low water ^as there, ^e among favour of pt out of poo], and In the 'liiin, he pounds. though 1, Percy waih'ng i at the r a mo- ? reeds. T^e Money Market. 12i^ The heart-breaking disaster came soon, and the breeze dangled his flyless cast in the air. He swore once quietly and regretfully, and laid down his rod on the bank. "lyost him? " asked Carnegie, who had reeled in and was watching. "Yes." '' Bad luck. Got in the reeds, eh ? " Again Sybil called. "Oh, Percy, are you coming?" she cried. ' ' What is the matter, Sybil ? " he asked. " Have you hurt yourself? " "No; but I can't untie this string. Do come and help me.- ' Percy stood stock still a moment. "Is that all?" he asked. "You nave lost me the heaviest fish I have seen this year." "What nonsense!" said Sybil. "How did I lose you your fish ? " Percy made a grab after his retreating temper and recaptured it. "Never mind, dear," he said. "You couldn't know ; but you called me just at a critical moment, and I turned round, giving him a slack line. Didn't he make for the reeds ! " " He must have been badly hooked then," said Sybil. "And I can't untie this string." Carnegie was some way off on his way to the bridge, by which he would cross in order to join them, and was out of earshot. "I ill 1 % ,( >' i I ,, '( ; 126 T//e Money Market. " You don't understand," said Percv "It w,= question of the hook. He carried offThe ZZTn Sybil pushed tlie hamper from her- .h. : exactly that mood which when > ' ™' '" children, is called fraction:^!" '"""" '" ^"'^" cricd^*"" hI' T f°'" '■°" '"''"'"' fi^h ? " she - ovcrfirthi^trttX^^^^^^^ me for losing your fish. " '''^"'^ Percy looked at her in surprise "What is the matter?" he asked. "I didn't blame you ; I said you couldn't have known He^' et s have a try at that string. Bv Tove I it if knot; my knife will do it. ^iJiftleb tril' never untie a string if you can cut it " ' hav^d''r;.'l"''''""'''f' '■' "'"' '^'==^■■'1 'hat he be- He looked a heavy fish," he said. " How did you manage to let him go among the reedr> I should have thought yov wo,„d ij, landS h m a oiice. He seemed played out' Tlie Money Market, 127 "It was 110 whole fly." she was in rs in small fish ? » she making niy s to blame "I didn't '11. Here, it is in a best rule : it he be- lt a man never be ■ were he -, be she I that on - untied, But he ■ing and ful alac- fow did eds? I bim at I vSybil interrupted indignantly. "He says it was my fault, Mr. Carnegie!" she cried. "As if it could be my fault, when I was sitting here! I just called him, and he looked round and the fish was off. ' ' "It v/as his fault then," he said. "He should not have looked round or paid you the smallest attention just then. If Queen Victoria asked me to come and see her when I had a big fish on, Her Majesty would have to wait. " Percy frowned. " Oh, well, the fish is gone," he said. " He was a big one, though! Biggest I've seen yet, I soberly believe, though the fish one loses always are the biggest. ' ' Sybil was wise enough to say no more, and the soothing influence of food had its legitimate effect. She had a shallow nature, which soon got rough under a squall and was quickly calmed down again, and in a few minutes, apart from the little resent- ment she still felt against Percy, still believing him to have been completely in the wrong, she had quite recovered herself. They had found a delightful spot for their lunch, of the sort of which there are so many hundreds in Eugland and so few anywhere else. They sat under a willow in a long-grassed field, at the end of which flowed the stream they had been fishing. Beyond, a long slope of meadow land, with tall copses planted liere and there, ran down to the \ fl Mf: |t!^ < I' ; I if iff:;: 128 Fh c Money Afayket. ^ere ctat intervals „thir?.""'PP°'"^- ^y^es '^■■'I of burdock and he, ^f ''"'*•-"' 'h-e were Little blue forget „enn^^"''°^'''"°"-''^'-''- grasses by the b^k of" Z T"""^'^ "' "'^ '°"S o^'hesky, and trembLd o,f tT'"',"'^'' ^ '•^''^^'■■°" - -f longing and fear ng V kT^' °'"'^ ^^-^'-^ lark, an invisible soert """ P'^ng^- A '""incus do„,e of tatn'T'nt ^'°"d-flecked the infinity above theTr h";^ i'^. somewhere in Pangbourne, which L bef ■\?'^ '^'°"' "^^ ^°«d «« cheerful whistling oftC^'r ^•'"'' "'^^ ''^"d ">e « living Lis flo^ck of sTeep ' %T^^f'}'''^^ ticed noises which go to m?V , '"'■■"'^ •"»">- country were in thef elrs f ^ "" ','" 1"'^' "^ the myriad sn,e]Is of greenTn'r '^>''^" "°^'"'' tl,e stream, which ran fla" ,1 ^T"^ """S^' The trotted bright and sDarkr '"'^' <^'°^^ '° them, and here f„d therfgrew ^c^"' "^ ^^^'''^ ''«<' which had been fatll Zl.r '""^ "^ *^ ^^^^^ "ke a bow in the water so 'r; "T ''^'" """'"e quivering with the suck ofX '"''""^ "P"'^'" ""<' 'ng strange twitchinrmnV """^"^^ °"'^« "'ak- ward.asffsomet'b^qut :'::;'::,^'^--^-^fcr- them. Tlie sun, which for an T ' ^"'^■"S ^' """•ning had been too s rol T' °' '*° ■" "'e fishing easy, was now 2?" "^ ^^'^'^ '" "="^0 "•at it hard'; cast I s L ow ' nd't he ' "'" "'""''' ^ --<'tobringoutintoas;,i:;tf^,::rnrJ^«';; faintly be- site. Dykes these were illow-herb. the long t reflection the water, unge. A id-flecked •where in le road to 'leard tlie le hedges ed unno- ?t of the itrils tlie ■s. The o them, >ly bed; e reeds double §:ht and 's mak- ! or for- ivingat in tJie > make uds, so 3 light of tint The Money Market. 129 the gamut of greens and greys which Nature has mixed in such soft proportions for the summer colouring of the inimitable Thames. After lunch tobacco tasted sweeter than ever, and the profound animal content which is the great re- ward of having been out-of-doors all morning, and having lunched under a tree, descended on them. The tragedy of the lost trout had spent its bitter- ness, or rather it could find no fodder in Percy's pleasant soul to feed itself on, and died of inanition, and as he helped Sybil to pack the hamper again with the utensils of food, he pronounced the world very good. The afternoon too promised to provide all the circumstances which lead to full creel, for the sun was now entirely concealed, and a light breeze ruffled the smoother places. " And what is to be the fate of the luncheon bas- ket ? " asked Percy when it was ready. " We are to leave it at that farmhouse. They will call for it, " said Sybil. " And you ? " • " I shall walk home," she said, '* I shall like the walk, and it is only a mile or two. Will you come with me, Percy?" Involuntarily Percy's face fell. He was out for a day's fishing. The morning had been sunny, but the afternoon promised perfection, and the trout were heavy. Carnegie wlio had been diligently em- ployed in burying the dottel of his smoked-out pipe in a hole in the ground and covering it with daisies 1» 1 1 5 '!t f' ■ I 130 T/te Money Market. planted in a life-like manner, stopped, v.itin^ for his answer. Never made mistress to her lovfr so liopelessly mopportune a request. But Percy hesitated only a moment ;' Yes, of course, I will walk back with you ' ' he smd, ''let's start at once, and then I can whip th s on, bybil. Ut me give you a hand." Percy had his rod in its case in a moment and he shouldered the luncheon hamper, and Took 'it off to the farmhouse where it was to be called for Carnegie sat quite still for several minutes afte; they had gone. " ^f l-^'l' ^ ''^"'"^'^ ' " ''^ ■'«"' at length, and resumed his fishing thoughtfully. ' Sybil was delightful on the way home. She was pleased at being able to get Percy to co„,e with ZTr and .she was doubly pleased at the presence of an audience when she made her proposal. She was a born coquette, that is to say a shallow and vain tfrl and she considered it a beau rile to carry pLv away m this offhand manner, while another ma^ who had certainly been seriously interested in her was looking on. Had she known it, she had ample for hlfrl ""^?"'^'""' ^" ^^™^g- -°«dered for half an hour, what it was about her that made a keen fly-fisher walk home with her instead offish! mg, and he argued to himself that it must be some- thing really remarkable. He had a great respect for success, and certainly this unreasonable reques m "ting for lover so ''Oil," he ^hip this . Come ent, aud ok it off led for. "s after th, and 'he was th her, e of an J was a in girl, Percy r man in her ample idered made ffish- some- :spect quest The Money Market, 131 of hers so unquestionably obeyed, had succeeded be- yond the measure of what he would have thought possible. For himself he had a memorable afternoon, land- ing ten fish weighing nineteen pounds, yet wlien Percy enquired after his sport in the evening, he exhibited not the smallest shadow of jealousy, or regret. And Carnegie's respect for Sybil's achieve- ment grew to admiration. Mr. Montgomery was away from home that even- ing, and after the ladies had gone to bed, Percy, Carnegie, and Ernest Fellowes sat up talking. The night was cloudy and thickly overcast, and occa- sional glimpses of summer lightning were winked overhead, and reflected sombrely on the surface of the river. The moon had got lost somewhere be- hind the masses of clouds, and the light was no more than sufficient to show the broad outlines of the river and the hills beyond. To the east only was there a rift in the blackness ; and a couple of stars, looking as if they had been painted with too wet a brush, and run in consequence, made a dis- piriting glimmer. They sat on the edge of the lawn which sloped down to the water's edge, and the noises of night crept about in garden-bed and shrubbery with padded footsteps. Three islands of lamplight were cast on the lawn from the open windows in the drawing-rooms, and soft white moths, from time to time, appeared suddenly on them as on a magic- n\ 'J ■ 1, 1 i m ! 1 ; I I i 132 li . 5 I .< 1 ,1 »ii! rt T/if Money Market. antern sheet and drifted aimlessly away again in,„ he -rronnd.ng blackness. There was a fhreaten- .nc of thunder n. the air, the remote storm was comn,g drowsily „p along the river-valley, and Percy, who was keenly susceptible to influences of the weather, felt somewhat excited and restless. Why ,s one such a puppet in the hands of the clouds and the winds?" he said. "Why because t .e hghtning smoulders in the sky, sllonW I feel a .f some misfortune were going to happen? What a parody of a summer's night ! it ;» t,,i<,k „,•„ presentiment." '' It's all stomach," remarked Carnegie That IS no less odd," said Percy " t"i,1''°'!''J'!""^ "' P'-^=«"«">«"ts!" said Ernest. I have had too many of them, and they are always rSirl^i^^r ■"'™' "^^' -""^y -uld buy said Pe^e'r ""'" """ ''°'" ' '*""' ^""^ """•" "I know it was. I ought to have known that it would have sold for that vety reason. What's vou presentiment now ? " '' Vague misfortune. I shouldn't mind about a definite presentiment^ There's going to be a storm, and the stream will be unfisl.able to-morrow morn' ing, and I go away in the afternoon ; those are the " You ought to have stopped on the stream to- The Money Market. l:]3 fain into hreaten- >rm was ey, and ences of less. 5 of the because [ feel as What k with Srnest. always P'or in- Id buy ^orst, >> that it s your 50Ut a torm, morn- re the n to- day," said Carnegie, "the fish were leediug all afternoon. " " I had something better to do," said he. "What did you do?" asked Ernest, who had not heard of Percy's earlier return. "I walked home with Sybil after lunch. We went out in the punt until tea, and explored the island opposite. Also a truculent keeper made mouths at us." Carnegie stroked his moustache thouglitfully. "Have you ever lost your temper, Percy," he asked with apparent irrelevance. Percy laughed. The question did not seem irrel- evant to him. ' ' Not with Sybil, if you mean that," he said. ' ' I was surprised thij* morning, though, that I didn't lose it, when she lost me that fish." " I should have," said the other. " Not if you were going to be married to her in a month." " You're going to wait till after you are married," said Ernest. "Oh, that's just in the style of The Sheltered Life,'' said Percy. " I should take care if I were you, Ernest ; that sort of thing grows on one. The cheapest thing on earth is that vile species of repartee ; and that odious and vulgar class of un- cultivated person which reads your books, thinks that it is smart, and that the upper classes talk like that." r V' I' I [ ^ U IK -■ ■* r ^'l r 1 « , ' » 1( • t 134 77^^ Money Market. Ernest lit another cigarette from the stump of the old one. "Quite right," he said. " I am cheap. I know It. I found it didn't pay to be expensive. I write for the great uncultivated class. In the suburbs they think I am a dear, delightful, naughty crea- ture. The suburbs are one gold-mine, and yet we invest in South Africans and West Australians. And the tools you want to work it are only cheap- ness." ^" Cheap things are nasty, and they never last." " Who wants to last ? I have no sympathy with the man who aims at a million when he can never get there. Browning speaks, somewhere, of the man, who, aiming at a million, only misses a unit. Seven or eight hundred thousand is what most peo- ple who aim at a million, miss. It is a considera- ble deficit." 'Tm afraid you've a grovelling soul," remarked Percy. " I know I have. That is no discovery." " Oh, don't grovel! " exclaimed Percy. " It is so easy. Anyone can do it. Think how fortunate you are, for if we are to believe you, you have reasons for grovelling; you are disappointed and overworked. So if you don't grovel, it will be a fine thing. It is not always given to everybody to do a fine thing. It is great luck to be given opportunities." Fellowes sat in silence a moment. You are welcome to my opportunities," he said. u tump of I know I write suburbs ity crea- 1 yet we tralians. J cheap- last." Iiy with n never of the a unit, ost peo- isidera- tnarked It is so ate you ions for worked. . It is thing. le said. <( The Money Market. 135 If I could, I would give you them all. And I suppose you consider yourself unfortunate, for not havmg any. You, if you like, have no excuse for grovelling. Out of mere curiosity, not for any en- mity to you, Percy, I should be glad if a quantity of untoward things happened to you, to give jou an opportunity for not grovelling." "Many thanks," said he. '' Suggest some op- portunities." " Well, you might lose all your money to begin with, and then get jaundice, and have a Job-time of It. Oh, there are lots of things which would be admirable opportunities. I wonder how much it would take to make you knock under." Again the lightning winked behind a mottled floor of cloud, and in the interval before the thun- der answered, an owl flying softly across the lawn hooted and vanished like a ghost. Percy laughed. "It thunders on the left and an owl hoots " he said, '' your wish is heard. I wish I was supersti- tious, it would be so interesting. Well, it has struck twelve. I am going to bed. Good-liight ' " He went in through the drawing-roo!n indoors leaving the other two still seated on their chairs on the lawn. They waited till he had vanished before either spoke. Then said Ernest : " There goes the child of fortune ! He is rich he is young, he is handsome, he is engaged to the girl he loves, he has the temper of an angel, and the digestion of an ostrich." 'I' ,. iii Hi 136 II u h i' * I ^ :i i S .If, • '. ! Ill T/ie Money Market. Carnegie paused before answering. " Is she very much in love witli him?" he asked. '' Sufficiently I sliould tliink." " 'Sufficiently,' means a great deal in this case » said Carnegie. "She lost Percy a big fish to-day because she couldn't untie a string, and he didn't swear at her, and she walked him home after lunch when he wanted to go a-fisliing, and he didn't say one word of protest. You don't fish, I think • but I can tell you that to go for a walk on an afteriioon God made for fishing means a good deal. Cleopatra wouldn't have persuaded me to walk a yard with her on such an afternoon." " Cleopatra was probably cleverer than Lady Sybil," said Ernest, "she would never have made such a request." " But she wouldn't have got it done for her There's the test, Udy Sybil did." " It looks, then, as if Lady Sybil was very stupid and also very clever." ' ^^ " That is probably the case," said Carnegie. And that is half the secret of her charm." " I never felt the charm. " "I did," .said Carnegie, with truly American can- dour, " and I feel it still. I was deadly in love with her a few months ago." He paused a moment, then spoke with the frank- ness which he used when referring to the pig in- dustry in Chicago. " And I am still," he said. le asked. is case," 1 to day e didn't ^r lunch dn't say ik ; but "ternoon leopatra rd with 1 Lady e made or her. stupid, rnegie. in can- e with frank - pig in- CHAPTER X. The Eve of the Birthday. Percy had arranged to keep his birthday down at Abbotsworthy, and it gave a good opportunity for the reopening of his house. The tenants had very obligingly vacated a fortnight before their lease was up and he had instantly poured into the house an army of painters and carpenters to do a quantity of small necessary jobs. He was only meaning to spend a day or two there just for the celebration of his birthday, and he would then abandon the house again to painters and plumbers till his return with Sybil from the yachting trip at the end of October, when they would establish themselves there for the winter. The wedding had been definitely fixed for the twentieth of September, and he would say "Good-bye" to Sybil the day after his birthday, not to meet her again till they met at the door of St. Peter's, Eaton Square. He had gone up from the Montgomerys' straight to London, where he had an interview with the elder Mr. Samuelson on the subject of Lady Otter- bourne's debt. The old money-lender licked the dust beneath his feet, offered to make him fabulous loans whenever he required on infinitesimal inter- est, but entirely declined to shorten at all the re- 137 ■" •-((I est silk 10 is her t?" T/ie Money Market, I39 Blessington beamed. " Eh, I thought you'd like your old room at the top of the house," she said. " And I got it readv for you all myself There's your old cracked look- ing glass, which I've had in my cupboaid ever smce you went away, and your two china candle- sticks. Eh, dear me!" Percy smiled. "You dear old Blessington," he said, ''that is just what I like. And are you next door, so that if I m frightened in the night, I can tap at the wall ? " Blessmgton broke out into gentle, toothless laugh- ter. * "Bless the boy," she said, - he's fon^^otten noth- ing! And I shall bring you your cup of tea in the morning. Master Percy ; but if you've woke me up with any of your tappings, you shan't have it. I say so, and my word is enough." Percy's guests arrived tlie next day, filling the house. Some were friends of Sybil's known only slightly (o him, others were school or college friends of his own. But the fact of all meeting for one particular purpose seemed to produce an amal- gamating tendency, and promise success u the party. Carnegie was there, looking as radiantly calm as ever ; and among others, Blanche Stoakley who had come with her father. ' Udy Otterbourne had never seen Abbotsworthy before, and she was quite "carried away," as she expressed it. She made Percy conduct her right Mm 140 Tlie Money Market. ii,;i I It f* « , If 1 1 through the house immediately on her arrival, and surveyed each room with an air that seemed appro- priate to one who is making a bargain and wishes to see what the other party offers, and to an auc- tioneer inspecting a property. She regarded every- thing from its market value ; and while neither car- ing nor professing to care for pictures, the fact that a masterpiece which she did not look at was signed by somebody of whom she had heard, was recom- mendation enough ; and, to her, the authenticity of a picture was evidently worth more than its beauty. Soon, however, her air of calm inquiry gave way to respectful appreciation, and the magisterial atti- tude faded into admiration. In fact, at the end of the picture-gallery, she sank into a chair, and, like the Queen of Sheba, there was no more spirit left in her. "It is among the first houses in England," she said. "I hope you will entertain royalty, Percy; that always gives a house a cachet. A fine house, good shooting and pretty women, that is what they enjoy." And she added to herself: ''Thank Heavens, Sybil is not on the eve of a marriage with a porkbutcher ! " After dinner. Lady Otterbourne called Percy to her, and told him to take her to some secluded cor- ner. This he did. " Percy," she said, " I shall not see you again, after to-morrow, till we meet on the 2oth. I want to say two words to you. I am giving over to you ( A ( V. ] t d The Money Market, 141 val, and 3 appro- 1 wishes an aiic- d every- her car- 'act that 5 signed recom- ticity r.f beauty. ve way ial atti- \ end of nd, like irit left id," she Percy ; \ house, lat they Thank ge with *ercy to led cor- again, I want to you I v/hat I hold dearest, and there is no one to whom I would more willingly entrust Sybil. There is a subject to which you forbade me ever to allude again, but I shall do so. You have shewn yourself splendidly generous " Percy stopped his ears. " For Heaven's sake," he said. *•' And you have shewn yourself modest," went on Lady Otterbourne, after a pause. " You love Sybil, for she is lovable. You will always be kind to her —that I know. And God bless you." lyady Otterbourne looked remarkably handsome at that moment, and she uttered the concluding words as if she was conferring an order on a thor- oughly deserving object, one whose merits had fully entitled him to receive it at her hands. She rose, held out her hand to him, and then kissed him. *' Thank you," said Percy, quite simply and nat- urally ; and together they went back out of the smaller drawing room, where they were sitting, to rejoin the others. In certain ways the party assembled at the house was a rather remarkable mixture. I^ady Otterbourne' s sister and her husband, I^ord Tewkesbury, were there, the wife looking about Sybil's age, and he an ill-preserved man of sixty. In another part of the room the present I^ord Otter- bourne, Sybil's half-brother, who had a face like a dull rabbit, was listening with ill-concealed inipa- lit •it if Hi 142 The Money Market. Mi ?!« ( ) Ma Alt tieuce to some quiet, precise remarks from Lord Stoakley, on the subject of guano. Mrs. Mont- gomery was pouring out floods of thick, unstrained gossip, like a river in spate, to several debilitated young men; and Ernest Fellowes was deep in conversation with Sybil's younger sister, Udy Catherine— who slept, so to speak, in the stables, and dreamed of dogs— on the treatment of laminitis in fox terriers, a subject on which he held perfectly unbiassed views, having never heard of the disease in question before. Sybil was enjoying herself immensely; she loved beautiful rooms and fine pictures, especially when they were shortly to be her's, and she was talking ecstatically about the beauty of Parsifal to Carnegie, who was not quite sure whether Parsifal was a musical composer or a place in Germany. Blanche Stoakley was making herself fascinating to two little cousins of Percy's, who had been allowed by Blessington to sit up till ten o'clock for a treat, and had already been treated as a confida7ite on the subject of that state-secret, what they were going to give their cousin for a birthday present. Others gathered and separated into desultory groups, and in the cardroom next door, Mr. Montgomery was already in the proud position of having rubiconed his opponent twice at picquet, which he did apologetically. Sybil went to her mother's room that night to talk to her a little before going to bed. "I didn't exaggerate, mother, did I?" she asked. The Money Market. 143 " It is a royal place is it not ? And I am going to be mistress of it. How well the evening went off! And what tact Percy has, hasn't he? He even made Otterbourne look pleasant for a moment." Her mother laughed. "That is a distinction," she said. "I haven't spoken to him : there is no good in talking to irritating people. Yes, it is a splendid place. Ivook at the tapestry in this room ! And I suppose there are other bedrooms as good. I wonder what it costs to keep up. How delightful to think that it doesn't matter what it costs. Sybil, my dear, you have a great opportunity. With this, and all that this implies, and with a clever popular man for your husband, you can make a great figure. It all depends on yourself In a few years, if you take pains, you can treat the world as you please. You will be rich enough never to need to make yourself cheap. How much that implies ! Yes, decidedly, you are a fortunate girl. I see Mr. Carnegie is here again. Did you get Percy to ask him ?" Sybil's eyes danced. " Yes, I think he is so pleasant. And I thought it would be so amusing to " "Well?" (( Oh, nothing, mother. I thought it would be amusing to see him in Percy's house. Did you notice that magnificent gold-plate on the side-board at dinner? It has the Hampshire arms on it, old Mr. Gerard bought it at the sale, Percy told me. I J" i4 \ A I • \' mm> I: ( I ;*!',, '! M ■'r II ^ f!* |, 1. ■I t , •I '. • >( t *i. ! ; I i ^: 144 77^^ J/^«^^/ Market. want to persuade him to have their arms taken out and his own put in. He shewed it me one day,' and I thought it must be silver-gilt." " I see no signs of electro-plate about this house " remarked Udy Otterbourne, amorously No everything is so genuine, and so like Percy," said Sybil. '« He is the most genuine old darhng I ever saw. Oh, mother, I love him !" and her beautiful breas: heaved under the pearls which he had given her. Udy Otterbourne came and stood by Sybil and warmed her hands at the little cedar-wood fire which was glowing on the grate, for the evening had turned chilly. Again as once before that evening, she was the prey to a simple, straight- forward, human emotion. 1 "^y^!^'"^^^ cried with sudden earnestness, "I should be miserable if I thought you did not. He IS generous, he is as true as steel-always remem- ber that. Ah, I know." Sybil raised her eyebrows. " You mean about that money he gave you in the summer," she said, with a slight malicious pleasure in dotting her mother's i's. - Yes, wasn't It dear of him. And the little note he wrote you really was the sweetest thing I ever saw. I almost cried when he showed it me." " May you never know what it is to want money like that," said her mother. Sybil laughed again. \¥ The Money Market. 145 ken out, 3ne day, house," so like [line old i!" and s which 'bil and >od fire evening re that traight- ess, "I 't. He emem- you in licious wasn't te you almost noney "It isn't likely is it?" she said. "And now, mother, I must go to bed. How late it is ! What a pity it is that when one has been amused one always finds it later than one expects !" ^^ "Yes, it is unfortunate," said I^ady Otterbourne, "but luckily, as long as one can be amused one remains young. The two balance. Good-night, dearest child. I,ook your best to-morrow and please Percy. That will be your duty for the rest of your life." "And his to please me," said Sybil, kissing her mother. "Again the two balance. I wonder which of us will succeed best. Oh, I assure you I shall try very hard. It would be too stupid not to try to please him always. Good-night, mother." Percy when he went to bed, sat long looking into his fire, and watching the red pictures there change and shift. Somehow he found that until this evening his future had never been wholly real to him. Sybil had been to him a dream, but to- night the dream had come suddenly true. With her under his own roof, with this coming into his inheritance, with his marriage but six days off, it seemed to him that he had been like some musician who has long heard a melody floating in the air, but in a moment, though it has been for days familiar to him, he captures it, sets it down in black and white, and brings it into the domain of recorded art. Already the yacht which was to take them on their wedding trip had left Southampton, ! 1 iif .!■ 146 • ( if ■« ; it ' » if 1. 1 I ■ it M- Tkc Money Market. and was even now steam i no „p channel to I^ondon wliere they woukl go on board lier. ' The same moon which to night lay floating on a sky covered with stars like swarming golden bees wonld only liave grown a little ronnder, a little brighter, when she watched them on their southward jonrney. fhe dew that to-night glistened on her deck won d scarcely be dry, he thought, before they walked that deck together. Before seven more ^uns had set the bar would have been broken be- tween life and life, the mystery of n,an and woman won d have been solved by each, the riddle of life would have been answered, and the crown of hu- manity worn with the woman he loved would have been made his. Thankfulness as deep as awe was on his spirit, the best that life offered was to be given him. It seemed incredible to him that all his life long he had never until the last year known bybil. He could not conceive how he had lived without her. Years had passed-each wasted - but how golden a repayment was his now! Of^en and often he had looked at her face with the deter- mination to be coldly critical, to demand of Nature the dignity of sweetness, the humanness of all that was best 111 art, and as often had his critical powers confessed themselves baffled. Each line in her face was perfect to the critical view, and to the eye of a man how lovable was each ! He had watched, so lie told himself, the dawning of love in lier eyes, as a man might watch a periect sunrise ; he had seen", I I The Money Market. 147 scarcely crediting the beautiful boon, the wonder- ful surrender of all to liini. There were many thnigs too good to be true. Here was the best of all, and of all the truest! He had met her first—how well he remembered it— at an evening party in I^ondon the February before, and, in a way, he had distrusted her. At any rate he had wished that he had been a perfect stranger, that she had known no more of him than the passer-by in the street knew of the passer- by. He had cursed the notoriety of his wealth, he had even, for a moment, thought that so welcoming a smile would not have been given to a man in rags. One day at Baireuth he had been unable not to tell her this, and she had half laughed at, half scolded him for the iLuught. ^^ "You thought that of me, Percy!" she said. "But I forgive you, you did not know me well, then. And, indeed, I am not always nice to strangers. But you " After that first meeting he had met her con- stantly and yet more constantly. At the different houses he went to, she had often been there, and at one time Carnegie, it seemed, had always been there. Percy thought that he must have been in love with her ; and the same did excellent credit to his good taste. The upper crust of coals in the fire fell in suvidenly, giving vent to hissing little escapes of gas. Some of these caught fire, and sickle shaped 148 I: '< <, T/ie Money Market. flapping flames sprang „p ; from some, spurts of bluish flame blew out, from others 1 Tet t one riiere would be a dinner of tenantry and he ine will, he supposed, would be read to liinf throughout which he would have to „,• , ' suitably decorous attitude, wl le al t." i '?, ' to sign h,s na„,e a great many times, and have to try to understand what was meant W debel e tock and first mortgage bonds. After ftathe"i! le lawyer would no doubt explain exactly whaVh» .nhented separately from his Ither, and plint ou wha can,e under her will. Finally Mr V. would o-i\7A Tit*«, 4-u 1 1 iiid-iiyf Mr. bale ..ad arranged Should takeVaibelJ^tr: the normng a party of them were ^oin. in 'Vin Chester, .hen followed the tenant's dinner, and after The Money Market. 14 9 L^tfhlf > '"r'^' ?' ^^^^^ ^^y ^'" be wasted in publicity ; he would hardly see Sybil at all J.r\"^^ T"""^ "' '^'" ^'^ *^" '' h^d almost died out, and only a crinkled arch of hardened ash remained. In matters of art and intellectual questions he was critical and fond of analysis but in questions of life and love and the ™t needs ot humanity he was as simple as a child He undressed quickly, and kneeling down by his bedside, he thanked God out of a simple and full heart for having given him Sybil, and for having ordained that they must love each other. WW fi: I, , - li! > ■ 1 ■li < 1 1 I, ( f'i' ■ ■ ''■■: .1 I ■ • f ' CHAPTER XI. The Birtbdny. The morning of the fifteenth was all that ,„rt, , morning should traditionally be bviXl t ! invigorating with the sligh't^' '^^ ' TC^ enough to g.ve a sparkle to the air, but not enough wluch ran in a glowing riband bed of colour down he path leading from the lawn to the fields by tie river. In the mornmg, as had been arranged son,! a d'svbT'' "^"' '"'° ^•'"^''-'-i "'•' Pe cy after the „r' TT^ *°^^ ^^° ^^-'''^d, and tenants, dinner and 1^::!^^^ SS.Th L t garden party and some suitable remarks, he„ al! the business, the reading of the will and so on A senes of suitable remarks in fact. However' the day has begun better than I expected fo7 1 :tlg...' '""''' "°' «^' ^ -^<^ -^'"1;u%,^ Sybil pressed his arm. "And I too," she said. "But Perov i,^ of you ! I should love all thisif iTJ^e'^oVl t such a i^isp and 'f frost, enough salvias ir down by the 3, some Percy -d, and about rh this le! A then a len all so on. Evever, for I 'U till V odd iU. I T'/ie Money Market, 151 should love to see all the tenants .^a .w 1 1 were the tenants of my propertv 't. '"^ '^"^ in of the promised iTnd And t'.I l"u '"'"""^ excited about the w^ll R. JT^^ ^" ^^^"^^^ years you shou Idn" reallv h! t '''' ''' ''' ''''''' money you had.'' ^ ^ ^"^""^ ^^^ "^"^h "I can't get excited about that" s;,id p wrstr&t/; '"^^^ '' --^ "- ^ -- " It ;= -l " "'^'' "'^ '>»«' m'lch I want " It IS quite , ,, ::,tic," said Sybil "aL « nothing in the world which can mJf .' " so long as nothing .nakes youl:r„: r,/° '"^• dear st/"sheti:'ir"r^ ""' ~""' ^^ '"at, liquidn'ess of h 'L:„til 7 ""'V' ."" '" '"^ -MM. seeded rlfthtr^^^^^^^^ "Z^Tu^.7~"^7 '" Thursday," said Percy and Tuesday ,s the twentieth. Next Th,!,^ where shal we be Svhil ? Ti, , Thursda-- London this evenTng " ^" ^""'" ^•" g^' '" Sybn blushed faintly over her face and neck said,'.t"I,Tir„'rb 7 t" ''^' ^"^>'-" ="« else matter?'. "«""' »>^ together? Can anything 4 .fi if 152 I' < If?: '"« The Money Market. In the field below the house there had been d ne /roHf tent where the farmers were to dine. From the garden they could see servants and already there were collecting about the walk little groups of ter .nts with their wives and red faced children all ashine with soap. Percy shook m::ft'atTb-rT^ ^' ^'^^^' ^^^ '^-^ ^^ -- ment at Sybil, who seemed to them more of a vision than a reality. She was dressed entirely in white W ^7/ '.^'"' ^"'" ^"^^^^ ^"^ °^ its ribbons and laces like a flower out of a flower. She had no hat on, and the wind gently stirred her dark, low- growing hair. And when she smiled at them and kissed those of the children who seemed to her pretty and less shiny than the rest, she won the hearts of the fathers and mothers by that s.mple graciousness, which was so clearly no effort to her As the garden got more full of these groups the^ scrolled back across the lawn to the house again The sunlight fell in rich and mellow abundanc'eon tne dull red of the old bricks, it flashed diamonds on the windows, and gilded the gilded vanes at the top of the two towers. Never had the place looked more magnificent, nor Sybil so worthy of being its chatelaine, and as she looked she felt a new pang of self-envy. ^ How splendid the house looks ! " she said * ' Oh P-oy, it is no use denying it, but I love gorgeou^ beautiful things I I love pomp and fine rooms and had been s were to i servants nd dishes, the walks I and red- rcy sliook in amaze- )f a vision in white, )bons and ad no hat ark, low- hem and 'd to her won the It sample t to her. tips they se again, iance on iamonds es at the e looked ■>eing its iw pang I. *'0h, ;orgeons e rooms The Money Market. 153 used to a worldly wife "' "^ '° 8row made for each other ! " ' ^^^ ""^'^ Whether Sybil ever really loved him or nof ,U' Saf rth":: ^^"^"^ 'f --'- b" "ti :! 1 nat probably , the deepest feeling of which a shallow nature s caoablc ai„1 n,; • """^" * they walked to and f„ ti 7^ tu ""?"""? T'^'" their splendid hon,e, at'L' ^r t 'S if Z^'^f ceived hun, she deceived herself Sh! j , "P in her nrind with all hetoughf tr-for .''r a least, she had a heart-felt admiration a pL on' ate craving, -and when they entered' tLT a«a.„ she said to hin. that w^id.te.e ^. o° .t on ter hps ever new and wonderful. T? ' uT^""-'" ^''e whispered. a sir ^hthfablritrtf '" '"' "^"^^ '"^^^'^ - ants dined, fndafeVL, 7ZZT'. '"^ '- tothedri..Hngofhishe:u;:hilltw:rs;bn sat next hi,n on his right, and when hnnuded t h.s approaching marriage and to her to whom n 'o beSte r """■ " " '"'' '" --irpts'u : able to be among yon to-day," they rose and I. n I I i i I If I*' Li: ir; I' > I- if 154 T/ie Money Market. cheered to the echo. Sybil, to whom nothing was so pleasant as popularity, bowed and blushed and smiled, and made altogether a very gooc impression. In due course the garden party arrived, strolled about for a few hours, and behaved as garden parties do, and when they had gone Percy went to the library, where he was ro meet Lord Stoakley and the lawyer, Mr. Sale. They were both there and waiti g for him, and without delay Mr. Sale produced his grandfather's will. "It is a very satisfactory statement that I shall have the honour to make to you, Mr. Gerard," he said, "and it will not detain you long. The busi- ness of which your grandfather speaks is still in a most flourishing condition, and of late years the in- come which has been derived from it, which has all, as you will see he instructed us, been applied to the same, has immensely increased. Perhaps you would like to read the will for yourself" He passed the document, which was quite short to Percy, and he ran his eyes over it. ' He read that the testator being sound in mind etc bequeathed all his property, personal and real' to his grandson, Percy Gerard. He held invested m various securities the sum of one million four hundred thousand pounds, which yielded an inter- est amounting to about sixty thousand a year His houses at Abbotsworthy and in Eaton Square he willed should be let until his grandson attained the age oi twenty.five years, when they were to pass nothing was nd blushed very gooc irdeu party :ind behaved gone Percy > meet Lord They were ithout delay [1. that I shall Gerard," he The busi- is still in a ears the in- which has een applied Perhaps self." [uite short, id in mind, al and real. Id invested lillion four d an inter- year. His Square he ttained the re to pass The Money Market. 255 which he was sole propHeto; ^"T ^°"'^°''' "^ would be learned hyZlT.'A ^'"^ ?^'«''^ of these the sealed letter wllh hould iTe " '' k '" °P^"^'' to him on his twentv-fifth hi ;t7"* ''"'""^"^<' he was to be ableTo draw 1 V '^'^- ^'"■' «'-" ecutor of the will 1,0^^^^ ^1?"'""" ^"'^ «" notexeeedinjj five tho ^f f '-^' ^"^ ^"^ ^"owance remained of « Us ut.st . """"'■' " ^'''- ^' -^ him, together with tie amun, ■"''''''' '" '^"^' ^o"- the businesses spoken c'ab^ '"eo-ue derived from two houses in Abbots^ortS'I^r^'"; ""' °^ "- Percy looked up. ^ °^ ^"''°"- ca^fafer t*^ ~nd'r:;- added to the " What is the tot:. ruLrfetle^'l'" "^ -•<^- visibrel^ltl^-: -■"-." said ':4's.,.„. 's°Godi.TrrT„r''--- the reading once more ' '^^''"'^ '^""^«»" to At the end of thp wmIi to his mother^ monTv Ih' ', '7 ''^"=^^ "'^^'-ff Mr. Gerard, and 7TlJ^l Y. ^''^ ^^^re old to Percy, w th Mr Gerard a^ ''''" '^^' '" '™^' to thirty-three thou^Xo^nt™'"- ^'^^-'^'^ he caS: I^*: ~ \7^^„^-ts to be paid when one hundred a^nd ^^^ur ^r'llff '-"fl:^ f iiif I '■ I f'l! m 156 T/ie Money Market. m ill'-'- I ( , I f I I sand^ pounds was given to Lord Stoakley as exe- Percy folded the will „p again and put it into its envelope. For a n,o,„ent he realized the grinding oppression of great wealth S"noing said'-W ^V^"' •""' '^ '"'''^' '•bsolutely,-' he said, mine to chuck into the sea if I wish-I beo- IZkl7 "'" ^' f'^' ''"«^> "I Lave no y1 thanked you, Lord Stoakley, and you, Mr Sa^e for your guardianship of my property. 'l am ve v grateful to you both." •■ ^ > ^ am very dow:aglf^"''^""'"'°*°^ *-•-"-' he'™d'™' vV ''"'''' '^""' ^^ *ere not,- he resumed 'which was to be given to me to-dav^ ? Have you it here ? " ' ^.,T^: if^'f °^T^ ""= W«"°^'' «n case which had held the will, and was lettered in white paiS ''Estate of Percy Gerard, E-sq.," and to"k out of I a large square canvas envelope directed tn hi ■ 'f ^-""father's minute haiiLri™ Wch ?;:: clearly remembered. The ink he noticed had turned rather faded and brown. "This is it, "said Mr. Sale "Iseeitic™, i. , • vate;ifyonwishtoreaditnow:v::i;irafei"; asif^rig^tVir-^^'"--^"'''^'-''--"-^ now, is L;:'" '"' "^ """""^ *" ■'^t-" ™e 1 c 1 a 1 ^ 1 ^^ 1 ^' 1 b 1 tl ley as The Money Market. exe- t it into its le grinding •lutely," he ish— I beg ve not yet : Mr. Sale, I am very 1, and sat here not," le to-day ? ise which lite paint, ^ out of it :o him in ich Percy iced had irked pri- ive you." moment, ■fore din- ?tain me 157 Saie""''' vfu'ir^^' "" congratulations," said Mr. ^ale. You have a princely fortune, Mr Percv and one tl^t befits your station, and, may I add' yourselfand your wife." > ""y i aaa, root^t^'"'"'/ ^""^ "*" °"'" ^«°' °"t of the room, leaving Percy there. He looked round the nM "'^^ "' '"'"■ *^" ^"'ked to the wrndow iooked out H,s face was grave-almost sombre Th.s great fortune of his gave him no feeli^ of pleasure, rather, it stifled and oppressed him. Hefce- forth he was bound in golden chains. OutsMe on s 'ttilr"' \ ^"!^ "' ""^^ ^'^^'-S with hh, were sittmg under the cedar on the lawn He cmild hear the tone of their talk, the rise and faU If tie ' vmces, and every now and then a tinkle of laugh e S t.ng on the grass was Sybil, with Carnegfe b y htr. At s.ght of her his face brightened- she at any rate, would hug the golden chains. He lalf tore open the envelope containing his grandfather! comnmnication to him, then sudlnl/"e sto'ed table in the little room which he had occupied had ha'd'on"' "'""• '"° "''^^ ^SO, Blessing!" had had once more got ready for him. He left « rtere, and, going out, joined his party o^ tie They talked and laughed awhile together but thf ho :? ff" ^°=^ ^"\''^^- st-"Wt;ard; the house. In a moment he had joined her, and i^if^ ;; m ■ ir uiii f ,' V' 158 T/ie Money Market. they walked up the long gravel path leading by the windows of the drawing-room. "Where have you been all this age, Percy?" she asked. ' ' I have not seen you — for — for hours. " "So long as that?" he said. "And it has seemed long to me. I have just been reading my grandfather's will, with the statement of his pro- perty." Sybil stopped dead; her face was all attention. " Ah ! " she said, " How interesting ! Tell me." " It was very short," said Percy. " I am heir to all he possessed. In my minority it has been ac- cumulating. In fact, Sybil, I am rich. Too rich, I think. I have about three millions, apart from the income of some business about which I do not yet know." She still remained stock still, only her eje brightened, and her cheek flushed. She looked di- vinely, radiantly beautiful. "That is a great deal of money," she said at length. " Yes, a great deal. Oh, Sybil, I wish I had not a penny." Sybil stared at him. " Why, Percy, why ? " she asked. "I don't know," he said. "Perhaps I hardly wish it. Are you glad, Sybil ? " Sybil restrained a sudden impulse to clap her hands, to laugh, to shriek, "Oh, Percy, of course, I am glad!" she cried. 1] d I ing by the Percy ? " 51 hours. " id it has Liding my f his pro- attention. Tell me." m heir to been ac- Too rich, part from I do not her eye ooked di- e said at I had not I hardly clap her he cried. The Money Market. 159 " I love, as I have told you, wealtli, and all wealth bnngs; pomp, luxury, power, the envy of others yes, I even love that. Poor, dear Percy, you look as if you had only inherited a law-suit. You feel the responsibility. Of course there is responsibility attached to such an amount. I,et me share it with you, give it me all— I will bear the responsi- bility." They had passed out of sight of the others, and Percy caught her suddenly and quickly in his arms " Oh, my darling ! " he cried, " what do I care for wealth? I cannot help feeling that somehow it comes between us, that I cannot offer you myself alone. I wish I could do that, dearest, just for the pleasure of hearing you say that you take me for myself. Oh, 1 know you do. I know that. But I wish I was poor; it must be exquisite to be i)oor." SybiPs smile, and her quick trembling kiss seemed to him a sufficient answer. ' " And the sealed letter," she said, '* you told me there was a sealed letter. What did that say ? " "I have not yet opened it," said Percy. " I left it on my bedroom table, because I saw you on the lawn. I will look at it when we go in to dress." ^^ "What do you suppose it is about?" she asked. " Can you make no guess? " " I haven't the slightest idea," said Percy. " Per- haps, I ought to have looked at it at once. But I don't care. You are with me, and that is ennn^l, Is it not enough ? "I j> gi 160 ill "I •ii T/ie Money Market. bed and stood looking out over the fields to the west Below, ,n the last glow of the sunset the flee o' o '«? ' f "^ ,"'"""^°" "°°'^ fro"' ">e - Heetiou of the sky, a tlinish in the thicket bubble,! out a throatful of song, fro.u the din. wate -n.eadlw n^;™'."^'''- Somewhere down the lane a W walked vvh,stling, and far away a ehurchbein-a^f and told the hour. The sky was cloudless and t ? lowly.ug meadows without a wisp of vauou, O ,K over Winchester a haze of viol»t coSed s.^Il'' prird-b'^ir"^" "'^ ""^^°^-<' '■- s aX': pncked by the grey pinnacles and gables of The Cathedral, A skein of starlings flyir.| i„ a v^h pe son of the sunset. Below in the meadow the m^ quee had already been taken down and the Z" were sett.ng up the fireworks, which were to be S off as soon as it was dark. Curious angular cl ther,ne wheels were already nailed to the Sreen on wluch they would be burned, and a number of r^g^ ad been driven m to support the rocket sticks In the centre was a large set-piece, look ng like a faintly traced map, and above it the initia^s^of Percy move t' /'"^, ""' ingeniously contrived to move towards each other on little wheels as thev burned, till at the end they formed a double inte'"^ lacing monogram. The two stood by the sunken fence which seoa rated the meadnw from ^h^^ S- ., f ^ ..om uiie iavvnfora iittie while Vl\ ! * the riband -I'Js to the sunset the oni the re- el bubbled er-nieadow ane, a lad ibell rang 3s and the our. Only ed smoke 3, and was es of the a V-shape the crim- the mar- the men. to be let ;:ular Ca- screen on r of rings ;icks. In r like a of Percy rived to as they [e inter- The Money Market. 161 in silence. Sybil's face was turned to the sunset which lit smouldering fire in the outlying threads of her black hair and flushed her face with rose- colour. Her mouth was a litt'. ^..-ted as if in a smile, and showed the edge of lier white even teeth, and Percy's eyes fed on 1 ei with , I,e hunger \ w i'i'f '^ "^^ ^'' P^-^^ '''■ -^"'^ identity even-had faded from him, and that he had awoke to find that he was merged in the personality of another. Sybil met his gaze with radiant, un- averted look, and her smile deepened in her eyes and in her mouth. Percy had no words for her and did not seek to find them, he felt she did not de- sire them; never, he thought, had each so under- stood the other. The boom of the dressing gong from the house roused them. " Come, we must go in," said she. " You have to read that letter before dinner. " Percy started. J'^ Ah, yes, " he said, " I had forgotten it. Ut us 11 % f r 1 ;h sepa- ie while :fT CHAPTER XII. The Opening; of the Letter. He went up to his room, parting from her at the top of the great staircase, on which, as the sunset died, the little bunches of electric lights were be- ginning to glow. Then he turned off the main passage, up a smaller flight of stairs and through a baize door. There were three rooms beyond, one, which had originally been his day-nursery and was now Blessington's sitting room ; a second, her bed- room ; the third, his own bedroom, whi-h he had occupied when a boy, and which had in former days been his night nursery. He well remembered his pride when it ceased to be called the nursery and became " Master Percy's bed room." His man had put out his dress clothes for dinner, and he dressed quickly, meaning to reserve the reading of the letter until he was ready. Partly a kind of vague desire to put off the reading of it prompted him, partly, in case it was long, he w:.^hed to be ready for dinner, and so could continue reading until the last moment. It lay with the envelope half torn open on his dressing-t ble, where he had left it. As he dressed, he noticed how his mind, full to overflowing with the *1'ought of Sybil, dwelt on tinv and trivial things with microscopic observa- 162 The Money Market. 163 tion. He smelt in his sponge the salt freshness of the sea ; his carbolic toothpowder had a vivid pun- gency about it, and reminded him of the smell in a Ivondon hospital which he had gone to years ago, in order to see a friend of his who was a medical student there. When he poured a little sweet ver- bena into his bath, there rose before him, unbidden and extraordinarily clear, the garden walk at Mr. Montgomery's house by the Thames, over which grew that delectable plant, the leaves of which, as they strolled up and down, he and Sybil used to pluck and rub in their hands. On his niantlepiece stood a small photograph of Titian's "Moses in the Bullrushes" in a brass frame. Blessington had given it him when he was five, and he remembered with the most minute distinctness how he had taken it out of the tinsel paper in which she had wrapped it, and thought it the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. On his dressing-table stood the cracked look- ing-glass which his nurse had kept in her cupboard during all the years he had not been at Abbotswor- tliy, and which he had broken himself with a cricket ball with which he and a boy friend were playing on a wet afternoon in this same little bed-room . His diary seemed to be written on the walls of his room. His bath was refreshing after the long and tiring day, and it was a relief to get into fresh and clean clothes. He dressed himself as far as coat and waist- coat, and then sat down in a chair in his shirt sleeves and took up the half-opened envelope. :{i- 164 !i'l ■1.1 il! I i « 7X^ Money Market. n,iml r'^' ° sheet, covered with the exq„isite minute hindwntnig of his grandfather, a hand more l.ke a wonum's than a man's, and he unfolded , : ,, 'S P^'P^'' ''"^"^'' '■^'""y »f the camphor a"d thel?''' ""'r" ''^'' P"' ^'-"S^e paper" and the mk, as on the envelope, was turned brown rie read thus : "My dearest GRANDSON.-This letter I write to you to wish you every good thing on this your twenty- fifth WrtJ day. To-day you will have had read iyou or yL wuS and I.ord Stoakley. Perhaps they will not be alive and other executors will have been appointed, but in any case t am sure that all will have been done in order and tL^^n you will find yourself a very rich man. Tl^f course wiH haye been dead for some years, for the doctors have Sd n " to day I cannot live many weeks, and as I write this I wonder w:th intense curiosity whether I shall be"onscious of what you are, at the moment, doing, and whetheA sha be perhaps by your side, looking over your shou dtr .^i watching you while you read. l1,ave ne'^ermuch doubled myself about what will happen after I am dead for^hf simple reason that I have no means whatever of tel int and It IS quite idle to guess at and invent answers for^a nddle. when there is no one to assure one i7 one has guessed right or not. ^^® " Well my dear grandson, here are many happy return. of your birthday to you. and health and hap^p^, ess to enable you to enjoy the wealth you have inhe'rk d By }1 T ir ''^^ '^^' ^'"''' ''■ °"^'^^ t° h^^^ become very considerable quite enough, in fact, to enable you and your wife and children ( f you are thinking of marrying) to pass through this life without being obliged to deny yomseWes anything m reason that is purchaseable. The money is The Money Market, 166 yours absolutely, and you can build a college with it, or send out missionaries to non-existent islands, or lose it on the Stock Exchange or double it again, without causing me either pleasure or regret. For of one th-ig I feel cer- tain, that as soon as we have ceased to do with this world, we have ceased to do with money, and therefore the dispo- sition of my money after it is in your hands does not give me a moment's thought. " Years before you open this letter, my dear Percy, you will quite certainly have been told two things which con- tradict one another ; the first thr^t money is a curse, the second that it is the only thing that matters. Neither are true, though both have some shadow of truth. In the hands of a fool, money is a curse ; but then anything is a curse in the hands of a fool. In fact, that is not a bad definition of a fool— a man who misuses all that is given him. Again, though not the greatest blessing, money is a very considerable one, and it will buy you everything except those few things that are really worth having, and of these it will buy you a sort of counterfeit, which' you may easily mistake for the real thing. For instance, though It will not bring you health, it will buy you surgical and medical aid and alleviation, and though it will not buy you a loving wife it will buy you a beautiful one. Take this money then for what it is worth ; do not depreciate it, but do not exaggerate its importance. You early showed a real taste for artistic matters, and in this, though it will not buy you skill, it will enable you to receive lessons from any- one you please ; and if you have decided not to paint your- self. It will enable you to surround yourself with beautiful pictures and lovely things. La consolation des arts : there IS a great deal of truth in that exquisite phrase of Flaubert's ! I' It IS exceedingly pleasant to me to look forward like this, and be able to talk to you once more, and at the risk of seeming tedious, I shall continue to chat to you a little How have you grown up, Percy .? You promised to be tall If < ■ 166 Tkd Money Market. (1 ^i'' It ,, •f< 'M jjil % and handsome, and you were always sweet-tempered These gifts are worth more than all my money, but money is bv no means a bad frame for them. It will be in your power I fancy, to make a great nane, and here again money will be an immense advantage to you. If you go in for an artistic career of any sort, you will never have to work against time or turn out anything which seems to you unworthy of your best. People ofte- say that to be poor, to have to work for one s bread, is a great incentive. Possibly it is to all but absolutely first-rate men ; but the best work, ^ .\,ak, is always turned out by men who do not have to do that ' I dare say you could quote instances to the contrary, but you can always get an in^^tance of everything. Again, if you go in for politics, it is no bad thing to have a good deal of money to back you. Electors feel that a wealthy man who takes the trouble to bawl on hustings must be in earnest, when, if he chose, he might be drinking and sleeping (the paradise of the proletariat). Again, I don't know what the current price of peerages will be in England when you are tw uty f -e but of course anything of that kind, if you wish for it, will be well within your means. You ought to have about three million pounds, under the excellent management of Mr Sale and Lord Stoakley , by the time you come of age. as well as a very handsome income, which, if I know anything of the world, is not likely to decrease as the years go on.'^ Percy had drawn his chair close up to the win- dow, but he was obliged to stop a moment to light a candle. Just as he lit it, the dinner-gong sounded from below, and he glanced to see how much was left of this communication still unread. It would not take him more than a minute or two to finish It, and he sat down again, wishing, in some unde- fined, nervous way, to get it over, glad to see there was so little more. He turned the page. red. These oney is by ir power, I ley will be an artistic ainsttiiue, hy of your work for to all but ■^'^nk, is o that. I y, but you , if you go of money takes the 'hen, if he iisecfthe it price of \f -e, but t, will be out three it of Mr. :e, as well ^thing of 3 on.'* :he win- to light iounded icli was would o finish e iinde- ;e there T/ie Money Market. 167 tnlti"^ "°T' ^^^' ^'''^' ^"^^'"^ ^ ^'°P' it ^'"1 ^e only right way but'all r T'' V '^^^""^^ ^ ^^^^ '" '-^1 way, but all I could save I put into a money-lending busi- ness -Sam nelson, of Jermyn Street. On the dea h ofUie old Mr. Samuelson, I bought the concern right on re an 2 his son as business manager. He now'a Iso has a si about the same age, I think, as yourself. I realised as vou can well beheve, now that you know the folly of the world enormous profits, and I bought two other businesses Tth '■ street. With my growing available funds, I speculated enormously, and I had. as I suppose everyon; has ups and downs. But I amassed the fortune which yon now nhedt and from these three money^endingagencesvoulre draw' ng. as well as the bulk of the capital I leav:e you a very handsonie income. That is the history of your forhine! ^ ,. , o"e more word. It is possible when you read this hat you wil have a sudden pang of disgust and loathing for your wealth. Such a feeling will be natural, even cred table to you, but it should only be momentary. You are I imagine, a young man of artistic tastes and considerable fastidiousness. All I say is, think it over, and remember that every penny that anyone gains (unless one owns a mine) is made at the expense of somebody else. " I am, my dvar Percy, " Your affectionate grandfather, " Henry James Gerard." Percy replaced the paper neatly back in its en- velojDe, put on his coat and waistcoat and went quickly downstairs. The others had all assembled and were waiting for him. He apologised for being so late, and giving his arm to Udy Otterbourne, ieci the way into dinner. 1^1 ;fT'" I'' '. ; ■ f it m ').; r- ii If- a I' -f' r i;; CHAPTER Xin. The Evening: of the Birthday. Percy took his se^it at the table with a heightened colour and a flashing eye. For tiie time a sort of wild irresponsibility ^a > o^er him. He knew the worst, and the worst was as bad as it could be. But at present he hardly felt it, it was like a blow de- livered under water, not painful at once. He would have to think what should be done, though as to that he felt no doubt what conclusioiiS he would conre to, and tell Sybil of it. Bu: just now he had a party with him who would go lo-morrow, Sybil and Lady Otterbourne he must persuade to stay till the afternoon, and when the others were gone he would tell them. Let him meet the thing at any rate, if not with courage, with the show of cour- age ; and for the sake of good manners, banish from his mind, while it was his duty to entertain his guests, the horror that lay in those sheets which he had folded up and put away in their envelope. Suddenly he remembered that he had left the en- velope lying on his table, and he had a spasm of fear that some housemaid tidying his room might read it. He beckoned to c 'e of the footmen ai 1 told him to get it and bn'i? t to him. With it \\: his pocket, he felt that for the present his secre'- 168 ightened a sort of « i«.f .1 . ^^^^ ^^^ decision, but he had ZTtT^ '' 'T ''""• ^"' ^- that',„oL„t he f n u . ^^^" "'"^- *•' exquisite torf.re and h! still shrank from fear of tl,» ?, i " '^^i *"° "^ of that horrible pafn W '"^'"'""y ''ePe'ifon aft„, '""iDie pain, just as a patient will wince after sonie surgical incision, for dread of the knife Mr 'sale ,n- "' "''." ^'"^ "^ "^ 'able he saw meetll hifr^'' ^""' '■"' ""^ f^" ashamed of meeting his eye, for he probably knew the secret He turned to Udy Otterbourne. '' I particularly want you and Sybil to stay till to-morrow afternoon," l:e said. "I have an affa" of some importance to talk to you about rf really important." ^ "'• " ^ Lady Otterbourne looked doubtful. said '< dT ' '1 '°''°;" ''™'''"' 'o-»o"ow," she said Dressmakers also are affairs of some im portauce or so Sybil and I thiuk. Are Z sure" your affair is as great as that ? " ^ " ^ ^^2-, I am sure it is,., said Percy, "I beg you " Well, I daresay we could. There will be tele grams to send. By-the-way, Percy, I mnst con gratulate you on the upshot of the will. SybilTsa I ! % :TT B}: 170 T/ie Money Market. B* • I'M'*. ' ■ '■Y . v^ery fortunate girl. 1 have never seen l.'er so ani- mated or excited." She turned and looked at him, and noticed his raised colour and flushed fiice. " You too look excited," she said briefly. Percy drank off a glass of champagne. " Yes, I too am excited," he said. "What fun it is coining of age, and what a pity one cannot do it oftener. And there will be fireworks after ; I love fireworks ; I always feel a sort of affinity to them." " But not to the fizzling out, I hope," said Lady Otterbourne, "and the descent of the rocket- stick?" "O, who knows?" he said. "Who will assure anyone that he won't fizzle out. After all so many people do nothing but fizzle out from the first. They, like Charles II., are merely a long time in dying, for all their life is a sort of dying. What if I should lose all my money ? There would be precious little left of nie." " O, three millions is too large a thing to loose," said Ivady Otterbourne. " Besides, you are not the kind of man to whom a fortune is merely a sort of label to prevent his getting lost In this big world. Without it you would still have an existence, whereas most of us wouldn't." Percy turned eagerly to her. The doubt again threatened him. "Do you think that?" he said. '' Are you sure you think that ? " ou sure The Money Mayket. 171 tady Otterbourne laugl.ed. Sure? Of conrc^ T ter with yon ?' ' ^ "'" '''"'■ Wlmt is the mat- knew Sybil What . ""^'^^^ ^""^ ^"'ce I 'o jilt me to.,"or oJ tw m,;, ^'T/'"^ ^""^ *- be in her debt. OlT I ^ ""'^"'^'y ^ should still Once more as he LT f''" "'"'- "^ »"rse," sailed him°and a.^Lr'^'- "'" ''°™We donbt as- >"•' face, bit it p^^ed : T "''"" °' ^'"''^ "°--d I adv Oh u " " ""oment. actt^in''it;;r:f:,;tt:r'-^'-"-foiiy,Had wLolly trust her concl^^rr'' ""^ ^''^ ^'^ ""t "e I.ad three :,m^'";;V3''::tf"r^*^' excite Percy like that tT ? "'^^'^ ^""'^ Lave excited her bnt P.. ", T """' " "°»ld t>.e -pectation'of some« r^ofth^e'r^ "''' '" rate, he was used to being "icV "^ •' "' ""^ of '^tSlheZrifti''"^ °" '"^ ^'-'^ ^'"'^ and Lady Otterbon n t^lT.T'' '°"°"^''- otl.er neighbour. "^ansferred herself to her Do you consider conp-ntnlof.v -anded Lady Tewkesb™ '^f't 3?"'^-'" ^- Congratulations h'.> eT,t,V»i 1? . «.e ^pirit in which they J'S ^sal ^ y '' Am 1 to conclude then fT,^^ • ■^'-rcy. ''THatisnotwhati'.t„f;:rSdS^ r*% '•!' 172 T/ie Money Market. \\\ c 'i r" * si . ■ 'if 4 « ' ' y •»?! I I i ' ■ Lady Tewkesbury leant forward. " Tell me what you meant me to cor"^^"'^" '* she said. "I am not stupid, and I wiii try to under- stand. But I rather think you are hard to under- stand. I al'.vays feel that you may have a surprise in your pockt j for us all." Percy thought of the letter in his pocket which had been sach a surprise to himself and laughed. '*I am delighted if you really tnink so," he said ; **but I cannot conceive it to be true. For indeed I am very straightforward and obvious " " I notice that people always refer to the things which I have not perceived as obvious," remarked Lady Tewkesbury with some asperity. " Perhaps you are so fond of peeping "round cor- ners that you don't see what is straight in front of you." Lady Tewkesbury shrugged her v^ery white shoulders. " I acknowledge that I prefer to look about for queer little traits in peopi-, than to only observe what is patent to everybody. And, no doubt, from not caring to observe that, I often fail to " "Ah ; but who can tell what is r>itent and what i^not?" said Percy. "To a certfl e> nt we all wear masks, and the most cunning ^^opi*. of all are those who wear a mask which is exactly like their own face. They would deceive the very elect." " Whom do you mean by the very elect?" " I mean you, Lady Tewkesbury." A^ '» she uiider- :o under- surprise et which ighed. he said ; r indeed le things e marked und cor- front of y white ibout for ^ obser\'e ibt, from md what it we all of all are ike their ect" The Money Mar kef. 173 I understand you less and less," said she. " But I promise myself that \ou will surprise me before I have known you a month longer." Per-cy's face suddenly changed : for a moment he looked hunted and frightened. But he recovered himself. " A month is a very short time," he said. " But if you are not to be disappointed, I must think and try to find out something surprising to do. People are so often surprised, yet it is so hard to think of anything new by which to surprise them. Do help me ! V/ould you be surprised if I went and stood on my Id in the corner?" " O, dear no ; I should only think that you were studying ar atistic effect. Everyone tells me you are so artistic ; sv of course, anything that artists do never surprise c .e." " Then how is it that you promise yourself that I shall surprise you before a month is up?" asked Percy. " Did I say that ? Yes ; I believe I did," she re- plied. ''The only explanation is that you will do something very obvious and expected, which, as an artist we should not have expected you to do." Percy laughed. *' You got out of it fairly well," he said ; "but you had to have recourse to subtleties. For I as- sure you that T am entirely and completely obvious." "The Sybil is an even luckier girl than I had imagined," said she. '' But I don't believe it." llj tllr t! I 1l 11/ k :i ( 174 T/ie Money Market. " You don't believe what ? That Sybil is luckier than you supposed. That is ambiguous." *' You are incorrigible. No, that you are com- pletely obvious." " But why if that is so, should Sybil be luckier than you thought," he asked. " Because she could alwajs count on you." " And you, not believing tluit, do not believe that I am always to be counted on. There is another opportunity for a subtlety, if you are to get prettily out of it." " I could if I wanted," said she. " And I won't try." " A Parthian retreat," said Percy. " No, I have no arrows to shoot at you as I run. But tell me one thing. You said that compliments took their colour from the spirit in which they were made. Give my compliments their quality ! " Percy replied without hesitation. " Sincerity," he said. I^ady Otterbourne caught the last word. " Sincerity is one of the seven deadly virtues," she said, with a certain dignity. "And insincerity one of the seven living vices?" suggested Percy turning to her. " One of the seven essential vices," she corrected him. " And the other six ? " he asked. " Really, Percy, it is not polite of you to ask me for a list of the vices," she said. " Ask my sister ; she kuows more than I." IWS Hi The Money Market, 175 is luckier are com- •e luckier 1." ieve that 1 another t prettily on'ttry." as I run. pliments hey were virtues," ■ vices ? " orrected ask me y sister ; "I want the other six essential vices," he said turning to her. " There arc more than six," said Lady Tewkes- bury. "Six will do. One ought to be able to get on with six." "It is easy to give you six : wanting what you have not got ; not valuing what you have; speaking well of your enemies before their faces; speaking evil of your friends behind their backs ; reading the papers; going to the Royal Academy." Percy laughed. "That is sufficient," he said, "to last a whole season. They might even last two, with a little care. Will those do?" and he turned to I^ady Otterbourne. "Yes, very well. But they are the vices of women." ' Tell me the vices of men." " Ask Sybil a month from now," said L,ady Otter- bourne, laughing. "Am I to show the way ? I see every one has finished." The men soon came out, and a few minutes after- wards the first rocket went up. Percy was desirous of two things only, to talk to Sybil and to let the hours pass. More than once duiing dinner had tlic great doubt came upon him, and he felt exhausted with the effort of repelling it. Sybil alone could do that efFectually, and it was impossible to see Sybil this evening to tell her all that that horrible '\\ I ire if' ! I' !? I f % i' ' ? '1l ' I < I, I^M.h .,^:'^'^ 77/^ J/^;/^j/ yl/^/-/^^/. "^T^Zf;^^^^ "'-f he was sure i„ had not definite y stated v., ' ''' ^''"'<' -^O' ^- would have to read tit 7^. "''? '" '"'"'^^"'- He --a.etodi:t,:rj---f;a especially the last, wherrSvbir"-.,' '""""''• own were brought fogetL to f ""^ ""'^ At the sieht of tl„f '""" * monogram and clutched t'^^rif"" ^^^'^ ^°"''' "- "■rust it away. °''' '"''' °"^= again he .i:a;:p:"eVSint%r '"^ '^''■■— ' in the billiard room and w^."^""' ^^^' *e men Stoakley was staXgIn th Tfu ''^°- ^-^ whisky-and-soda, and! Pel >' "'^ "-^y "^ said, "Good night "he' r!,Pf'''^ "'""«h and " Do you know J ! ''""^ '^'' '^ "°'"e«. ope?" h'e asked "' '^^ '" "^ «-«>ed envel- Wd Stoakley nodded. Yes, my cfeaj. p^^,., ^, for the executors alone to 7 m ^ T" " P'"?^' 'eft "■e business. We w^r; stri"f, ' r "^ '" ^^"^ "" ^■•on the matter to yJt! u, t to'd 'f '" '° "•^''- ffl^ich upset about itT" ' '""''"y- ^re you very ;'Ves," said Percy, blankly. (-ome and talk to Mr QoI j to-.orrown.or„ing,':?s^idf,t:;: -.^^tr^?" v\e thought IS sure in ild do, he iself. He igain, he t into his md were tenants, and his nogram. "^t rose §ain he es went he men Lord tray of ?h and It. envel- er left ry on nien- i very The Money Mayket. ^ego ught 177 probably that 3011 would want to part the connec- ^on ; hougli the fact that it has been carried on so long w. hout any one knowing to whom it belrd IS a factor on the other side. Still you will pro-' bably desire to stop it." win pro Percy suddenly threw back his head and laughed loudly and unnaturally. ^ " Yes that is probable,' ' he said. ^ ' If only that were all. Is it possible that you do not see the bideousness of the thing ? " ^ Lord Stoakley looked at him gravely for a mo- " Pe^cy> promise me you will do nothing in a hurry," he said with anxiety in his voice. '?NoV perhaps, you take an exaggerated view of it au' That IS or course natural ; but cease to be exae* gerated beiore you act." ^ ''I will promise you that, " said Percv. - Indeed I do not see m what direction it is possible to exa^! gerate the truth of this. " ^ He went up to his room at the top of the house l.t several candles, and sat down in fhe chair wher; he had read the letter. He drew it out oTh s pocket and read it again ; then he poked the fi 1 and as on the night before, he sat down and star d at the burning coals and communed with them Samuelson, of Jermyn Street ! That was what ana Lrores — how pvniiioifpu. : • , ^ _. n^^ 4.U- 1 .t '. — i'-i-Keiy iiumcai was i-'ate ' To think that ,n August last he had promised to mi h:ii 1; '^ "'f-i. "IT ' ik^' 178 77^^ MoHej^ Market. fnterest't'/f.^l" Ot.erbourne's with cruslung fifteenth to . n '':"''' ^^^ " °" 0<=t°b« thf filteenth to himself! To think that when he ar, renewal, ne had only approached himself Aft^r what hewas himself! To thlttl,: , LCLlT all hat the world envied him for, was derived from felt'l .,TT"°"^' In what disgust and heTrt felt Ioa,h.ng he had held those vampires and blood- suckers of nnprovident people ! Who was the chief of them? Again himself! The house he enter tney ate the millions that bought all these thimrs Je Sn Strtirr^ '™"' ^-" S--elIo„ "^f iiaions nmtured in luxury, with power to bnv »I1 :^^rt haf r^ °^ "-'if- thm;" "rn'; wnere did that power come ? To whom did Ik- owe his education, his boots, his hat ? To SamiJ son, of Jermyn Street !" '*^ • ^ o bamuel^ For a moment his old habit of stinHi, i r rHnl /■ "^ completely dramatic was the climax, as far as it had hitherto developed. It was a Sophoclean tragedy without even the ambigulus warning of the oracle. Till this evening hfC been utterly ignorant and innocent of thelurce of I; • ■!■ 1 crushing ctober the lien he ap~ ; short the ^If. After !oii he liad at sort of man was is wealth, ■ived from nd heart- nd blood- the chief he enter- the food !e things, lelson, of ^ent, fas- buy all •' From 1 did he Samuel - if, aloof or, reas- was the It was biguous he had >iirce of The Money Market. 179 this gathered gold. No honest and struggling man enveloped in his toils could have reprof hed l^m no one could have besought his me'rcy ^o^ non"' S fir the T^'' '"'" "'^^ ^^ ''^' be- ^^• t>o far the climax was totally unexpected as sud- den as l,g, tning, and admirably set. ^ He was o r- taken on Ins birthday night and on the eve of h s marriage by this horrible discoverv. The scene had closed on it, and he was alone again The next scene would open in twelve hours! He was had m store for him. The main features of his own Peti; wdf^ " ^'^^ '^^^"'^^ °^ ^^--^^> ^- knew thi^k n '^ T^ ^""^'^ ^'^^^ ^'' ^"^^^^ i« order to to tal^rr ^'''' '^''P "^"^^ ^^ -- determined o take to-morrow and the consequences of that step. In a word, he was going to give up everv penny of his grandfather's money which hfd been acquired ,n this horrible wav. If it was DossihV he would find out what was^his grandTth'e's f : tune before he took to money-lending; he would add to that his mother's fortune, and tha he Zou Id Kmo; necessary he would pension off the busnie^s managers, he would get places for tie c erks, he would close the offices, thereby forfeiting his mcome, he would realize all the investment worth. Mr Sal- hi-l \r^^ V ' • '"^^^^'"^"ts, pounds, give the money either en bloc to found ■f-s 180 II ' (I. Ill' 'I. '> ill 77/^ Money Market. some college or charitable institution, or divide it up between a dozen such, thus washing himself clean of these atrocious trades. Abbotsworthy, a fruit of his money-lending, should be sold, eve^- thmg shou d be sold except his own personal pos- sesions, which he did not feel called upon to part with since he had bought them out of money which yielded an income below that which his mother's fortune and the original possessions of his grandfather would equal. He would make a clean sweep of all this iniquitous compilation of wealth. It hardly needed a determination to arrive a this ; the idea was a necessity. The money was iilthy, he would wash his hands of it There would certainly be an enormous amount of business to be done. What line he would take with those uufortunates who were still owintr laree frir^'^-ffi" u "'!.*''' '"°°^y-k''di"g houses, he felt It difficult to determine. For himself he had r.^i /I '"'"'" "''"'"" ''^^ame of the money, but the debts were debts, and he saw no reason why they should not be paid. I„ a curious, half-senti- nental manner also, he considered that he owed it to his grandfather to wind the thing up properly. In spite of the shrinking, invincible disgust he had to concerning himself at all in such affairs, he saw that, till to-day, the money had not been his, though left in trust for him. He passed, on his twenty-fifth birthday, but not before, into possession of what r.,?...^ -.vi^diiig uusmesses iiad produced. Cer- )t divide it tig himself tsworthy, a lold, every- rsoiial pos- 3on to part of money which his sessions of d make a 3ilation of a to arrive loney was IS amount ould take ving large louses, he If he had le money, ;ason wh}^ lalf-senti- e owed it properly. St he had s, he saw s, though ^nty-fifth of what ed. Cer- T/te Money Market. igl taiuly, uo one, seeing to what use he put the monev recovered could accuse hin, of the \^T£l u t Mr «T' "'f ■ ''°"^^"- ''^ ''^'"'"i-d to con. suit Mr. Sale, who, so Percy reflected, grimly had a heavy month's work before him His grandfather. . . . The thought of him eave Percy a cruel wrench. His remembrance of !Z ^T.n 1^^:T^' "r."'^ '^•■- g-y-'.e:ded"ld np;r!i ^^l,'7•''°"^=^"<^ his endless interest o him ^^'""■«\j°y= -"d 'roubles, was still vivid of t^; t 7 ""'V P°'^'"^ '° '^<=<>°<^»e the image of that kmd, gentle old man with the proprietor S Samuelson's business? Which image mnt give way to the other? Yet neither could give wly They were both real. Had it been kind or brmli of h,m to delay this discovery so long, or w« i neither kmd nor brutal, but wise only,^ o hrthe momen Percy knew of it he might be able to act to gL^wt "" '"' "'-^""""^ '' ' «^ '-''"^ In any case, he would have to tell the whole to Th "'\' f'r'" """ ^-"^ '^^dy OtteTbou ne Then, washed of his involuntary vileness, he would g.ve her him.,e!f The contemplatio^ o7tti moment, m a way, excited him strangely, and fi led h.m w.th a sort of tremulous exulL o„. "ow often before now he had cursed his wealth whel she was with him I H„„. „ft„_ ,-_. ., "'"'. wnen himself, would he haveliLr.:\eThe'XTh:l"" ■\\ hi }■ k 182 T/ie xMotiey Market. < •( -It. ! : < wealth h! I '"'■ ^^ ^"' ''''"• T'"" ^"'^ 'oved wealth he knew ; but that, weighed against the love they bore each other-how ft would ^^U the tlie iuuset, he had said to her that he wished he was poor to be able thus to receive the outward and vstble sign of what, in his heart of hearil I e assured himself he kuew so well: that, ifTe Lad been a beggar, she would have come to him with the san.e self-surrender. He loathed himself fo ever having let the hideous doubt cou.el^to hi he kfw 1 e'r 7'"^ '" '""^ ''""^^'f ''"- well her b1 I ' ' '"'"• l'°"""«Iy he trusted it his d air ;' ^"■';r' '"°"'"" "^^ '^--^ ^aek 1 his cha.r, torn and beaten by the self-same invol "ntary question. Again he wrestled with it Ihis time It came more insidiously in the form of reasoned logic. Had he been poor, would he have even dared to ask Sybil to shnr; hi Hf ! and, even if she had consented, would not he have' absolutely forbidden her to do i( ? Wo„ d it nit part to let her sacrifice her life like that ? She was born-so he had often told her-to all t he splendour and beauty that wealth can gL he 's by birthright. It was right that minf s Ihm.Id work, sweating i„ the earth, to give hera mo« ace radiant, : she loved igainst the d kick the -y watched wished he le outward hearts, he if he had him with limself for e into his unbidden, ie scorned how well le trusted ned back me invol- it the form »vould he his life; '■ he have Id it not 5s on his It? She all the ve, her's 5 should T/ie Money Market. 133 every creature tha treat ted" rT' °' '"'^^ ''^ w.tl. which ,na,. was endowed Mt;;^^'' '''' v.ronment, had its money value A !^, ■-'"" clever and industrions necis 'rilvt ' ^^■°,^''' t - expense, .nay be, of the tTp * ",' m": C. ' f then, on the oiip«f;r^« ^r • ^^- Clearly We. Too hel-a' d% /"."''•'■'"''"'y^^^ '■"P"^^^ or the atlnos'herfof it a""T°f"'"^^^-"" eo.nprehensibethn° wisa- r/" f"'"" """ oxygen for the Inno°' FoT heT7 "' '"■" "' '^ was for her a st„nH^' f , '" '"''= otherwise, hTr" dtJ^rt - "'--^ >.ert poor n,:; ':, ^ otherwt:^' ' "'' °"^ <=°"'<' --. '-' ordained Again, would she consent to it ? u ■ , sting of the doubt. DidsLll "'^'■'^'" '=»• "'e ".ako a m.,rriage which should 1, " 1''°''^^ '" Wioh relegated her " ' orher" "!!i'""^' h:rt^•t°td'r, ^"'■"' ^^^Vol^rCur ;';: fortune? It was tlX , , ''■''Position of hi. Percydreaded,":i^t:drby:Cd'';:'"«'''^' expre.,sed regret even, he wonld IlZ^'t^', ^" """ tiiey were anarf t^ • " .' '" '^^ ^'- ^^aK»««^s y apart. To give up instantly a fortune 184 V< " III I 77^^ Money Market. If"! , , •I 'it , ' I j! ( <> 1 "'♦ thus acquired was as necessary to him as breathing. Snnply he could not possibly act otherwise. He could not even argue the question with her, and indeed, on such a matter he had no arguments' With him it was a question of instinct, and irre- sistible. On the other hand, he could conceive a thousand admirable reasons for not giving up a penny of his fortune. In the first place the manner 111 which it had been acquired was altogether an agency outside him. He had not till to-day known It, and if he had known it he would have been powerless to stop it. Again, what money except money earned by the mere toil of the hands in use- ful and necessary trades, was altogether clean ? All acquisition of property was immoral from this point of view, the stronger worsted the weaker, the clever the more stupid. Unless, as his grandfather said you discovered a gold mine, and that, too, on your own property or on no one's property, every penny you made was made at the expense of others. All this he allowed, but it was absolutely powerless to alter his decision, or make it possible for him to contemplate its validity. Again, was he in no way to regard Sybil's desire? If she pleaded with him how could he resist it ? If she used cool and rea- sonable arguments how could he answer? He did not know ; all he knew was that he could not do otherwise than he had determined. Once again, as only twenty-four hours ago the core of burning coai faded and ceased to glow \ c \ V c The Money Market. 185 Jreathingf. vise. He her, and, ■guments. and irre- onceive a ing up a e manner jfether an ly known ave been y except is in use- ean? All his point he clever her said, on your ry penny ^rs. All ^erless to r him to 1 no way ith him, and rea- Hedid d not do ago, the o glow. Once again, tlie half burned cinders clinked in the grate as the arch of half-consumed slag fell in, and Percy got up from liis chair, and threw the window wide. It was a glorious night, the September moon shed a flood of ivory-coloured light over the gar- dens and fields. It was swung high in the sky and a little behind the house, so that a great square of shadow was cast by the huge building over the nearer lawns. The Triton fountain tinkled in the stillness, and the wind was hushed. The utter want of sympathy between man and Nature never struck him more forcibly. Because his world was ready to fall about his ears, not a whit of the love- liness of night, with the trees sleeping in the moon- light and the noise of falling water from the dark- ness, was abated. The great serene Mother had no time or inclination to listen to his puny question- ings. Then, with a sudden great wave of shame, he definitely cast his doubt aside. He had been doubt- ing Sybil, no less— he had been committing treason to her. She had promised herself to him. Was not that enough? And his loyalty and his love to her shouted the affirmative. He had a moment before thought that Nature was cold and unsympathetic. Indeed, she was far otherwise. She sympathized not at all, it is true, with his weak, timorous doubtings, but where could iie have found a more perfect symbol of his I've for Sybil or Sybil's for him than this flood of lig'i,, full li^' ;'.r < ^y • t "I 4 il ( •!! ui'i tU If ■if I i 186 7&' y(/o«<;)' Market. no of he strength of violence and effort, but full of the strength tlmt isu.ore than these, the stre.g of stUluess, winch ,s above all effort and striving To-morrow he woul.l tell Sybil all. He would confess and ask her pardon for the wroug hH ad done her m lus thoughts, and say that which mi sure y have sprung into her u.ind as instin:t" ^y 33 It had sprung nuo his, that they must give all this up, without demur or reservation Percy turned from the window and undressed He had conquered ; that of him which was bl t and truest had vai.,jr.i.hed his doubts. But e deserved h.s penam.; ft,r his treason, and would confers ,t to Sybii And he went to b d andTept U\ :li ^^^h^- f ^^^■''f >, ^^^^■st.i'' ^mti ■ DHi^li B: : ^■ljlj> 1 t, but full e strength ■triving. He would ig lie had iicli must tinctively '■ give all ndressed. was best But he d would nd slept. CHAPTER XIV. Sybil Decides. The weather seemed disposed, in spite of Percy's momentary accusations of its want of sympathy with the puny creature known as Man, to continue to pay its congratulations to his coming of age. The next morning dawned bright, cool and invi- gorating ; a more perceptible hint of frost was in the air, and the exquisite, indefinable smell of an autumn morning. The beeches, earliest of the trees to wear their red and yellow liveries, were already beginning to put on the gorgeousness of their brief colouring. Thrushes scudded across the lawn, and broke into a perfect torrent of repeated melody as they found and devoured their breakfast ; and rooks, with feathers so shiny that they looked as if they must have been lately blacked and pol- ished, strode like soldiers over the meadows below. The guests were all, with the exception of Lady Otterbourne and Sybil, to leave by morning trains, and the breakfast at half-past nine mustered a full complement. Percy had awoke that morning with a strange feeling of having escaped from some mortal dan- ger, and Blessington, next door, heard him sing- ing in his bath, an indubitable mark of un- 187 IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 2.2 I.I 11.25 mm 2.0 U 111.6 Photographic Sciences Corporaticn V ^N^ <^ 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-450 J o^ t/i Wl 188 T/te Money Market. oeiie Jiim. He found himself rid of the into mKi« ,„oM f [r * save not a thought to the matter of the sealed letter. His fortune he regarded as gone, and might all ill go with it < pl?! r hou. it had been his, and tLe ftw hours had co^ tamed for h,m the worst moments of his life when ToZTCl 'r'""' "^ "^-'--"edwith hi dolts' I^a on wi teT "iftd'h' " "V"^ '''^'^'- k <- • .1. -^^ "^^ Deen made excitpdU- but in the coo morning- he fn„«^ ;f i , ^^^^^>' That change in^ic ^i^^ '^ '^°''^ ^°^ ^^able. it tC^S^^ ^^ r^^ Py^^P^^^^' -nonnons as mig^ni seem to others, weig-hed if f^^ moment nothing to him \T P""^'^"* fixed conviction that ^^T^M ""^P^"^°« ^^^h his K.f^ "viccion that Sybil was no less his than without colour. ^^tS^hiTrtfeat environment as he would have looked^a n ctur^ SvWI 1 "^^ *"' "'^ ereat flood of S feLni' i^a r ""'!: '^^^^^^'^ ''■ drowned a fietails lu a luminous haze. The picture w,^ ^ ou'ti:: ' Tir-'i-r^""' o„in::rr;td ouumes. The details it would be his business to nirvrz\^ '"' "^■''"^ "-^•■'■' 'i^": - ingCd':rng:;rthafi"'^"''- ^°"- flooded his heart ^'°'''°"' *"°^'''"« §: did not intolerable e relief oc- rden, it is gilt to the ^e regarded For a few s had con- Hfe, when, lis doubts. ■ his deter- excitedly, ind stable, urinous as e present with his his than ■ery other eless and life and 1 picture, of light vned all was daz- n broad siness to at morn- . Noth- iunshine The Money Market. 189 It was not yet mid-day when the last of his guests drove to the station, leaving him alone with Sybil and her mother. He had asked I^rd Stoakley and Mr. Sale to dine with him that night in London, as he had affairs of importance to talk oyer with them. Both guessed more or less completely what these affairs were, and Lord Stoakley at least felt somewhat dismayed when he saw that Sybil was waiting till later. He urged Percy to put off any talk with her till he had discussed the matter with his executors, but he with a radiant face had refused. He only suc- ceeded in getting from the young man a promise that he would do nothing rashly. If he had known what a different idea Percy attached to the word he would not have taken his departure even in comparative ease of mind. Sybil and her mother were waiting for him in the hall as he saw his last guests off. "Well, Percy, we remain," said Lady Otter- bourne, ''and you have to prove to us that your affair is of more importance than the dressmakers." ^ "I think you will agree with me," said Percy Let us go into the library. Oh, it is God's own morning!" They went in silence up the corridor and turned into the library. The sun was shining in at the window and he drew down the blinds a little Then standing in front of them, he spoke, smiling at ease, confident. % 190 The Money Market. ''Mf '.( ^i.iii "I have read my grandfather's sealed letter," l,e Sybil before dinner. At first I was horrified, dis gusted; and I think last night at dinner I wi almost hght-headed because I knew what I had to do, and It seemed difficult. But this morning I hardly think of that at all, I have got my fofus tCht !?'• 'f ' " "°""' "^ '^'h- "b-'d if thought of anything except one thing " And he stretched out his hand to Sybil in entness She gave her hand to him, and he held it while he continued : "Yes it was terrible at first, and it was the more you Sybil. No, you do not understand yet. Wait I will make myself quite plain." Again he looked at her; but her eye caught his only for a moment, for she turned her he!d and S^rZ J""f ="'"« !'«"- »t her mother." Otterbourne, busy with her own thoughts did not notice Sybil and only frowned impatien^tly at Perc^ Go on, dear Percy," she said. " Go on " pense of her face that startled him. She looked hke a woman who expects to have terrible ^ela^ tions made her. From her he glanced blck to Sybil, whose hand still lay in his He pressed it gently, and did not notice how niechanLT^the pressure she returned. The Money Market. 191 letter," he last night, n-ified, dis- iner I was at I had to morning I my focus ibsurd if I >f puzzled 1, and he i the more I doubted et. Wait. aught his head and ir. Lady 3, did not at Percy. n." and sus- e looked e revela- back to ressed it was the ^^ "Yes, I have begun in the middle," he said. "Look, here is the beginning. My grandfather's sealed communication told me the history of his fortune. He made his money, three million pounds, as you know, by money-lending. He did not use his own name in the business. And one of the houses was Gore's, another was Appleton's, and the third was Samuelson's." Lady Otterbourne suddenly gave a little gasp, and Sybil turned to her. ''What is it, mother?" she asked. "What is it?" Percy looked at Lady Otterbourne in silence a moment. "Yes, of Jermyn Street," he said. "What is it, mother?" asked Sybil again. "Nothing!" said Lady Otterbourne. "Go on Percy." Percy paused, chilled and disappointed. He had pictured to himself that Sybil at this point would look at him with a moment's transitory horror, and then with pure pity. "Oh, poor Percy!" he had imagined her saying, with swift womanlike intui- tion, " but what does it matter if we are not rich ?" But Sybil did nothing of the sort. When her mother did not answer her question, she looked back at him, and withdrew her hand. For a mo- ment the doubt again assailed him. It was a bad omen. Yes, it is awful, Percy," she said, in a cool, dry * 1 (t I 192 m *A 1 ., ne Money Market, voice " Rnf T • thinking of shutt,"7.7tK^,']°"''" Are you you won't do auythiL ^ ! businesses? I ,,ope r^rd Stoaklev mean 1,, "^- ^-^^f'^^what He stood tLe Io:k uTat her blal7^^-" saw^he had ,„ade a mistake '''''^' ""-^ ^^e you. '"kr:7hC;;:„Tust7';'^' '^ '^-'"'^ ^^^ -^- -8ht, for I selwhat " , Z "^ ''^^''^P^ ^O" no more at all to do with X t^'" '° "" ' '° ''^^^ t^'feto Lord StoakIe7fnd Mr sif' /'" ^'''" ""' not? Will you forLt rn", If If:'.?' ""! ^''" Stopped. "'^^ "- and she Percy sat down. "Ant\1',-htr--,«^;7Heasked. you are so queer, Percy f ^^ } '° ^^- J^" again she stopped'helplLly ''" ''»°-— "and Lady Otterbourue recovered from 1, moment, and became a hard .i " "'"?" °^a .''Sjbil, you are quite iltrM*"""" ^S^'"' sa.d, sharply. " Do C n'tfr '"?'"■ " ^''^ wrong. You are meaninp- f„ ? ^^^y, you are And "-she spoke wth 5 ^^" ^^'''^ tl"ng. not know .ha^ it m;'Lfj/"P''-'--"you d'o Sybil looked frightened. ' ''w.at:re\i;tr;f;;:XrS^;, -''-■^- s. And is ^ Are you ^'* I hope s that what you to do ver. " y» and she ^rrible for rhaps you ' •• to have t you will will you and she e asked, ay. But — " and iporofa again. f1," she you are ! thing. you do 3lessly. The Money Market, (( 193 He is meaning to give everything up, of course, said Udy Olterbourne. " Really, Sybil at times you arc extraordinarily slow. He 'intends to give up everything that came from this money- lending business. What proportion does that bear to the whole, Percy?" Percy kicked a footstool aside. For the moment he felt perfectly hard and businesslike. " I don't know yet," he said. "I have not yet troubled to enquire exactly what my grandfather was worth before he went into this ; but of this I am sure, that, instead oi being a rich man, I shall be rather poor. That is a detail at present. It will be necessary for me, for instance, to give up this house ; to sell it or let it again. This certainly will be out of proportion to my means. I daresay I shall have two or three thousand a year." Udy Otterbourne got up with a quick movement, as if closing the interview. " It is impossible," she said, quickly. " You may take it from me that it is altogether impossible. I am against it altogether. My poor boy, you don't know what it means ; you have no conception how unhappy and worried for money it is possible to be on that sort of income. Besides you have not only yourself to think for." Percy looked at Sybil, not listening to Lady Ot- terbourne's words— hardly, indeed, hearing them. She had fixed her eyes on the carpet and was staring at It intently. He was stung suddenly by an intol- ■ M \\\ ir 104 I III 1 77/r Money Market. irlf erable pain, and felt himself 1,^it^i of it. niraseit helpless in the grip " Sybil speak ! " he cried. " Tell me thnf agree with me ! How can T A^ ! • ^^ y°" Sybil raised her eyis ""'^""^ ^^^^^" caule Tdk^' ''" ''V^"''" ^^^ ^^^^ --J^"ly, "be- cause I disagree with you altog-ether v^j^\ "vo«a.Sta,otT:,rDoSrtrT yourseltTpe^cyf How often"'' T '"'" »^ '^at I was born to all thaUsl, '?!! ''^^^ *"''' "^ "^at I will not aHorvo, t?5 fj.'^^"'' magnificent! Cut ofl^all con::tCwUh these Ln"'""/""" "°'- «=" them, realise : I dr„ot W T ''^^°" *"" ^ Even that would be quLo.t a„J^ ''°" '^'" ''• But the other i You t, 1 '^,'° "'^ ^''^-f'^- you are selfish!" ' ^°" ""°^ ^^'^ of yourself ; wo^: hThraZSi^ th^ r "f -* «- *« Sybil's. He thouSrit'^s n^: ;■; -^^^^ were gigantic hoax that his ear, w.7„ , ""^ *°'"« was impossible that he ou W hi """^ ?''""- " Lady Otterbourne, standingbi the Ihire^'" '"' sa.d nothing, and in the pause tW f '""^y-P'^t^e, found himself just star L wf t , °"°wed Percy without thoug,!t,"rs;r n^ L^ud^o';;'"' bourne spoke. ^^ ^^st I^ady Otter- in the gnp ne that you gelse?" ahnly, '«be. What you "• It is as 'ng energy, ot consider ve in that d me that W me that gnificent ! shall not. you will ; 3U call it. - absurd, yourself; - tliat the >ice were 'of some him. It ken so! y-piece, d Percy of him, ^ Otter- The Money Market. 195 **You had better go away, Sybil," she said: "I want to talk it over quietly with Percy." At that he looked at her. "Why should Sybil go?" he asked. "It is a matter that concerns her ; the matter concerns us equally." /'It will be better," said Udy Otterbourne, nod- ding to Sybil. " I want to talk to you alone. You shall see Sybil again afterwards. Go, Sybil." "Sybil shall do as she pleases," broke in Percy uTvu^^u^'"?,^'" ^^'^ ^^y Otterbourne, icily. Which will you do, Sybil? You shall please yourself, as Percy says." "I will go," she said. She went out of the library and down the corri- dor to the room that had been Percy's mother»s and that was to be hers. Her microscopic soul, not large enough for two emotions at a time, nor even for one fine one, was in a tumult. She was lost in agitated self-pity and dismay. She was furious with Percy, though she hardly yet believed that he was serious. He was mad, he was a lunatic to contem- plate such a thing. It was inconceivable that he should do it. It must be stopped. She would urge him, entreat him, she would even— yes, she would even threaten him. How could she think that it was possible for her to let him do this? He loved her— good : let him show his love, not by sacrificing himself, but by refusing to sacrifice her. He spoke of giving up Abbotsworthy as if that was a thing 196 The Money Market, threat, she did norsthX^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ necessary to „se that P ^' " ™"'<' I'c must see that he w^s conteZ, T" ""' ^ '"°°' ' '- thing. As she sZpt ^n a^l''.""^ ? ■''"P»»i'"e sHjallness of her trTle^uf a'S'V"""?' ""= sublime. **g"ation was almost wi?^Te::r "^t r:^r r ^^^ ^^-^ >- -•■< as clever as Sybil-^d T.^ ?''.'''°'" '^" «»" "■Senious, considering' h"''""^' '"="■ ""^""od was had been and how "^^st, '"^r''^'' the crisis as Sybil had left the ro^ t ? '^^- ^' ">°^ held out her hand " '•"= '«'^'>''«d to him and It il'ir/Vof ■= cl: ? 'r'" ^™ '"^ >-- idea. Sybil, PoorThnd'r; l;L'tafsh"- ^"'"'^- nonsensical. You mn-st „T . ^* '^^^ V»te I could have boxed he ears'T" T*""' ^''^ ^"i''- selfish." **" ''hen she called yon '^Oh ^""y'^^'^S^^ mildly at any hope -.fLttybT-/-fer;^;-^^^^^^ ■"--"«ef»^hef:2;\-?^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ thing, acquired villai ot,slT It"'' " '' ' ^''''^ le could not As for the ^t would be a fool ; he impossible room, the vas almost g her talk ten times Jthod was tlie crisis As soon > Iiim and our idea, quietly, ^as quite 'he said, lied you "But olently; ot, how a filthy !tion of it has >rror of >urself. T/ie Money Market. 197 It has been I who gave you all that worry and trouble m the summer over your debt. It is I who was bleeding you. What would have happened if you had not come to me? There are hundreds Ike you, whom I have been pressing and grinding down, or I should not be so rich. Any night at dinner I may sit next a woman from whom I wrin^ the money to keep up this house. Samuelson, of Jermyn Street ! Here he is." T ^^'^^.^?^ ^"' ^^"^' ^P^'^' ^"^ «t°«^ looking at Udy Otterbourne with wide eyes and parted mouth. .w ?r f ^"^ '"''"'^"^ ^^'^ ^^"S^t something of this thought which so covered him with shame, the next her habitual self resumed its sway. But she had seen how deep-rooted his resolve was, and, though she went on calmly enougli, the fear thai she was fighting a losing battle suggested itself. Do not say those things, Percy," she said. " t^ IS horrible, no doubt; but at the thought of you .nd Sybil I cannot at this moment bring myself to re- gard anything else as of consequence. And now I ercy, I want you to give me your very best atten- tention. As I said, and as I repeat, I honour you tor the impulse which makes you feel as if you can keep nothing of what was got by the money-lend- ing. But you have to look at the question from all Sides. At present you have only looked at it from one, you have only considered it in the light of your natural repugnance. It would be strange if you did not feel it. Yes, I know, Sybil did not, but i ■ I, I 198 The Money Market. • ■¥ ■f I Mr fill- I !*> ^* }f-' ' 'I; you mu t be mdulgent: she was terribly upset at it a 1. The money, as you so rightly sav is rlTrff filthy you called it, I think. Bu Svh^^' ^/'''' nothing i„ what S^bi! said ?^^ho«!h of "'' '^T poor cHUd was very wild and xag^^^^^^^^^^^ you thought of her ? ' ' ^^ggerated. Have added. saw It, and as you see it ! " he " You are right when you sav thnf T CO •. do." said Udy OtlerbouU ' I see Uf. l''/"" your point of view, but I also see it fmrn"^ T points of view as well." ""■ °"'" "There can be no otlier point of view " .»M IS not that enough ? " ^ ^ ^ ^''^^' matt'e'r ^'slfd^' T^;?'^ '' ^"" "^^^ '-^^-^ i" the matter, said Udy Otterbourne «'R„f ,,^„ not. You must consider Sybil " ^ " "'" " I will talk to Sybil," said Percy ea^erlv " t will persuade her that I am right ' ' ' ^ ^ ^ houlT-^^Tl^ *'^' ^^ "°"^^^'" '^^^ I^ady Otter, bourne; I have no objection to that ' ' You think I shall not move her?" said Percv I am sure you will not." ^* "What then?" he asked. ' upset at it , is dirtied; , was there "course the ted. Have would dis- itterly and e must see eit!" he "- it as you fully from om other iw," said 1 belongs, ?at a loss, le in the you are rly. "I ' Otter- Percy. I) The Money Market. 199 she'slid. '° '' ''^^' '''''' ^'^^ -•" persuade you." ag2t;L;lX:^^^''^-^^-^''-lhe. Mud qu^;^r'^::r no"::^ '^r ^^^^^^^ ---^^^^^ -.andshewa::^;l~:-^^^ but to spare him pain. Persuade Percy, "You will have to ncl- c.i m 1 said. ""'^ ^y^^' about that," she ;; Will not Sybil be guided by you?" otjrbt:;^^^^^^ *' That is not kind to nie." "You wrong me," she said- "it i. tl,. kindness I could do you Tf V 1 ^^'^^'^^^^^t fluence Sybil, my in Je.L iould1^:7be ,'^ "L" »i the way you hope.>' ^ ^lirected " You agree with her then thaf T o, " Yes," she said - As I ^nll r" '^'''"^•" impulse; but asltellvn,! ^"""'^"^'"^^^y^"^ terly im^ractX YLfwouM k'""/^^^°"''^ "^- especially when you ^^Z^^ nVo^ct:^^ "^'' ly fortune because it wa<, moj/- ' ^ P""<=^- do uot approve of I h ' ""''•'V'l"'"^' "''''^'' y°" ways of ™o„:Hrd:rs "l.^Ther "' '"^ .onate, graspiu,, and it is a'neferioT. Tral '""'Z the people to blame are those wh^i t '" have been wi.Hng to sati:'^;' dir^;- 200 ::l I M' 1 la, .J- T/ie Money Market. mankind makes money at the expense of other peo- ple, and It IS only because they do so in what I may call an elemental manner, without any of tliose softening pretexts which conceal the bare facts that you think as you do. Supposing your grandfather had been a great lawyer If you con- sider that closely you would find that he must then have made a quantity of money by successfully de- fendnig guilty people and also by his ingenious at- tacks on others who in his heart he believed to be innocent. That is not a pretty trade if you look closely at it. Yet the law is an honourable pro Percy shook his head. "It is not the same thing," he said. " Wlien you run it to the ground it is," she re- plied, and ,f you think over it, you will agree with me But all that after all is a very mLr ponit. You have pledged your word to marry Sv- b.l, and you have promised to make her, as far .is 111 you I.e.,, a happy woman. It is therefore im- possible for .you to do this. What .sort of a poor .nan's wfe would she make? It is not euougluhat you are m love will, eaeh other. Ordinary daily mterconrse w,ll not e.xist on s„eh a diet. Do yo, thmk she would have consented to marry you you had been poor? Do not reply obviously and untruly, and say: 'Was it then for my weTl h th t slje prom,sed to n.arry me? ' Of cou4 it was ll But It was necessary for her, as she fell, and as I )f other peo- in what I out any of al the bare »osing your If you cou- i must tlicn essfully de- genions at- ieved to be r you look rable pro- " she re- will agree ery tninor marr)^ Sy- , as far as refore ini- of a poor ough that lary daily Do you ry you if >usly and :alth that was not. and as I The Money Market. 201 felt to uiarry a niau out of a certain circl<> a man with wealth and position. When a pr „cess ma liusband only because he is royal ? Of coZe it k not,^gh she could not miry a^^^^ "I will not remind you of what the world will think," she went on, "becaii-e T H„„'/ care a pin what the\vor r:.^/ f, rnr^rwH yoj. niust consider is that you are '"t'liof ' ^It not wish to say unpleasant thinss • but wl,»t T i told you about Sybil is true, ^e'ca^l^t b p": :..au.s wife. Consequently you must give ^^^r Percy suddenly broke out into a laugh true "Z '"•!.' ".fu ^°" ^^'^"^ "•^' ^''^' y°" say is rue, he said ; but to me it is comic and incred We^ Do you seriously believe that Sybil will git ue up? \ou see, I can laugh at the idea T ,.f "'?"' 1" '""• ' "^^ "^-'by a hundred vtue and maddening doubts. I wronged her soTheZ "tterly and horribly. Again and agtln, durhig ,1 ^ nterview with you, they have beset m; and have thrust them ms d^ To1;„^ ^ r .., „ ' ^ "^^^ th up? I. shall not in aside. I cling to my faith. Sybil give me f 1, .1- ^^'^^^ "^^^ ^" ^^^e remotest manner to her that such a thing is possible. I shal~„ 202 The Money Market. am ready and willing tote convTnti ./Tr k' ar^dll ^°" "^^^ '''^- ^^^ I seems If^^ '''" ^^^ """«' *"" ^ «"• doing wl,a seems to me an inevitable one " He stood up as lie spoke, and threw awav the end of his cgarette. Inconceivable as his TZr conld, or even would, marry him if he lavf v .eaveJ.i^s^;-rX^^^^^^^^ rthtr::7-ST^^^ rrMils L ^bl!?""''".^"'' ''^^ """""ted fices as thl^ ^ 1 ^^' ""^^ ^°^^h such sacri- nces as these, and she spoke with repret ^^A ^ ^ng seriousness. ^^^ ^""^ S^^^" "A word more," she sinirl <<\7 that this revelation 'Lr„tJ;\rr:t I itter with niy as I have lis- 3 convince me liaken me. I )r me — to use a manner. I f^ if I can be shall try. I n doing w]jat away the end > resolve was hat she and don it, Lady ertain invol- f that Sybil ^e gave his ler he would eckless, un- s of money, they were tterbourne, unlimited rand scale, or morals such sacri- and gTow- >t consider I made to TAe Money Market, 203 you ; that you are stung and hurt hv fTi« kt a few days, or in a few weeks f^ n ''^' ^" ciab^less; you will geT usfd'^i'tJ::!!,^^^ ^^P^^' Percy, ''1^3 Tn^K/^^^' "^^^^ '^ ^V' cried .etti^ig u^ed tVi .T:oursror-^^ ^'^"^^'"^'^^^ "sed to crimes, I daresay w ''T' "''^"^ ""^ it." oaresay, but one does not advise "You are talking foolishly," she cnVH " r crune had anything to do w th it Y™. we saw and argned about at Baireuth xrf . ^^"^ say just shows that you are vet ; 1' ^'" ^°'' cide anythine- PuH I • "° "' ''^'^ '° d^" put it off fo ? jj'h '°p:;t''tr'"°" ""^ ^' ^"^ ^«'^ you will." P"' 'he marriage off too, if She stopped suddenly • she ha^ „ » quite that. It amounted almott tn "",?'" '° ^^ anything of the nature of a Cat she\ '"' ""'' only goad Percy on. She lookld a l2" VT'.' grown suddenly white to the h' s "' ''"'^ qnieS. ' ""'"'''"'' ^°"' "^ yo" '•'-k ' " he asked " I am making myself verv olaiti " «!,. , -j • desperation, now the thing waTdonT' " wV '" go to talk to Svbil vou will Ze P . r " ^°" ing soberly in ord J f P"cy, I am speak- S oeriy, ,„ order to warn you. She cara^ot I i 204 The Motley Market. % marry a poor man, and she will not. Do you want to wreck your happiness, to wreck hers? It is right to warn you : it may come to that." Percy moved towards the door. " It is no use putting anything off," he said. " I shall see Sybil at once; it is impossible that I should wait any longer without seeing her. I will come to you here again." He left the library and went down the corridor to his mother's room. Sybil was sitting in the window-seat, with a very fixed, sharp look on her face. She had not heard Percy's step across the thick carpet, and he had already approached her when she saw him. He looked at her in piteous appeal. " Sybil," he said, "Sybil!" Sybil had spent a fruitless half-hour. She could not imagine what she should say to him. She rose, passed by him and shut tlie door into tlie corridor! *' Well," she said at length, 'Mias mamma per- suaded you ? Have you given up that .stupid, im- possible idea? Oh, Percy," and a sudden anxiety struck her, "tell me you have given it up !" Percy shook his head. Sybil sat down in a chair and began to sob. "Oh, you are cruel," she said. " You do not love me in the least. You care for nothing but your own pride. Perhaps you never loved me ; for now, when you have an opportunity of doing something for me, you will not do it! " o you want It is right esaid. "I ibie that I ler. I will le corridor ing in the )ok on her across the )ached her in piteous She could She rose, e corridor, mima per- tupid, im- n anxiety )!" ► sob. o not love but your ; for now, oniething The Mo7iey Market. 205 ** Sybil," cried Percy, in a sort of despair, "do you not understand? Can you not have mercy upon me? I cannot take the money. It would sicken and poison me. You do not know ; but can- not you take my word for it that it is so? What does the money matter ? I shall have enough ; we shall be able to live comfortably ; you will have as much as you have ever had. There will be " Percy paused ; words seemed futile. "Answer me!" he cried at length. "Your mother has frightened me horribly! Supposing I go my own way-supposing I give up all this hideous dross, will you or will you not give me up? God, that I should have to ask you that ! But I am frightened ; I don't know what I am saying ! " His voice had risen almost to a scream, and he paused a moment and wiped from his forehead the dew of his anguish. Then, in a quieter tone, " So answer me, Sybil," he said, " and then forgive me for ever having asked you." It seemed to him that he waited years for her to answer, that in the pause that followed he grew old and grey, and that his youth passed and was re- membered by him only as a dream. He sat with his face buried in his hands, and heard only her sob- bing and the metallic insistent ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece. She sobbed once, he noticed for every three times that it ticked. And still she did not answer. After a while he rose. 206 Mm I Ml ' TAe Money Market. . " ^°" ^^\^ nothing then to say to me, ' ' he asked in a curious hard dry voice. "« asJced, She said nothing; and Percy, bending kissed her on Uie forehead and on the hlir. The'n heTft Udy Otterbourne was in the corridor. go to he7 't' ^''^V '' ^"' ' '' y°" ^^^ ^^tter go to her. She would not answer me. I asked her whether she would marry me if I gave up thi money. She could not say she would IfJi Innk you had better lunch in her room, and go up at my flat in I^ondon. Please communicate with me there. If you do not, I shall know." ' he asked, ng, kissed ^en he left had better I asked ive up the . And I iiid go up I shall be cate with CHAPTER XV. An Experiment. A WEEK afterwards Percy was still in I^ondon, living alone at his flat. A short, bald paragraph had appeared in the daily press, between the move- ments of the German Emperor's yacht and the announcement of a new piece at the I^yceum, say- ing that his marriage with Lady Sybil Attwood would not take place. The world read it with a certain amount of interest, talked about it a little in the evening at its shooting-lodges in Scotland, and shrugged its shoulders when it learned the reason for the rupture. Percy, meantime, since he left Abbotsworthy had stupefied himself with work in company with Mr. Sale; and that rubicund little gentleman was worn to a shadow of himself. By the end of a week they had got through the bulk of the demoli- tion : the three businesses had been broken up the three managers had been handsomely pensioned, and Samuelson's, Appleton's and Gore's were no more. Percy had gone into the smallest details with great attention, and dwelt with a sort of in- credulous horror on the methods by which he had been made rich. Sometimes he used to wonder whether, if Sybil had known as much as Udy 207 k i ■f. f <-'r 208 n^ Money Market. Otterbourne '"ve thought thatThe;;;:ran'vthr'' ""''?"'' madness nt the root of his action' Bu' h"?.""" encourage such speculatious, !^,d fo"\ ' ^'^ ""' gave himself no time for r». . ^ P''''^*"' the end of each Z ^ T °' ^Hef Tire,! at 'he waking mt' ' ^ Jt'/.r' ""'^■f was called Th*. ^„« / ^^^^^"8: "P as soon as he aiicu. liie outstandins- de?hf<; fr..,„ people wlio had borrowed moLv 1 1 , J;"^;""' taking, Jiowever nnl. !i -^ '""' "^^^"^ '". ■•nteref i at I i::t;a: } ^Tfr . ^ 7^' ^"" sum he had o,N,^„ ^ "^•' ^"^^ ^^le total The residue'cSug^f -s ^hlC ' "^'f ^■ tune and the money left hm bvT- ^'"" '^'■ found to amount t/=, / ^ '"" "'°"'<^''' ^^'^ thousand Zllt:o^X^' f"" '^^">' very comfortably ;fr and Ind ^ ^', ""•■" ■'"" so of£, h . '"""■"'' ' *"" ""^ '-^'' been supposed he°Xy 'or nT' ^^^' ■ '"'^'^ "^"^ -"^'-er or not. Suffernig, it seemed to him, -, she would more than Jje did not the present '• Tired at I shortened soon as lie ^111 various J called in, icipal with J the total ^it a dozen hospitals, 'ginal foi- other, was d twenty was still 10 change It had it ny result Abbots- here was tiely Mr. ^cided to • United he was supposed oit. whether to him, The Money Market. 209 coldness was not the right word for t indilference to everything t..^. .„. ,,, ,,,a ..^ctii. Since he parted with Sybil and Udy Otterbourne at Abbotsworthy, he had seen Sybil not at all, and her mother only once. The interview had been hopeless and useless, and when it was over he thought that he would have been wiser not to have seen her. She came, she told him, not from Sybil, but on her own responsibility, to ask him whether there was any chance of his reconsidering what he had proposed to do. But already he had begun the division and distribution of his property and even if he had not, he could not have promised her the faintest chance of his changing. He did not even ask after Sybil, and half wondered to him- self whether a sort of necrotic process had set in in his heart. Suddenly the whole of the last six months had passed in his mind into a state of utter unreality. He had been worshipping, so he told himself, a dream-like creation of his own, and at a moment when Sybil showed her real self to him she ceased to be real at all. She had broken his dream, and wakened him into reality : it was morning, and hard light streamed in at the windows. He had imagined a beautiful soul, a fit inhabitant of her peerless body, and he had found that from that splendid shell there looked out a spirit that was false and base and utterly untrue. In a moment the fabric of his dream had been shattered, and h^^ I 210 H ''<'i. hl.il li '- yy^c Money Market. i i was left not with a reerct hnf o a which mocked hin, tl If he had h '''' ^'""^'^ in a day he seemed to l!! , i ^^" '^ deceived. as ti:e^::rfT%^^^^^^^ ^^--^ ; - ^on, he merely lived as fronfd^ 1 1 '^7 ^"^^' cession of busy hours U^ h ?^ ?"^^' ^ '"^- owes had seen him once when he Lj T "'" but he had been unable to help or stfr I ""' way. SiuiDlv 1,^ 1,<.^ t, ^ " "'™ '" any "1 hear you are in London," she said • "K„f you w.sh to see no one, I will not eome ' L.. know, however, if at any future tLeTl^ "" way help you Vn„ 1,0. iT '^^" '° ^^X daresay yoTare rtX^Tt^u """^ ''^<=^'^^''- I t1.at ^Z insti ctwHcMtror"' '"''"'^ tion. We come ,m Zja ' "'""' '° l^^- mas; t^ th " ;e^re atT" ?°" ^''^' ^''"='- Percy! . . .» ^' Ungton. Oh, Percy, •ary wonder so deceived. Jiis disillu- "d ; as long >erty lasted >"gh a siic- y got two nd he sup. r. that he rnest Kei- th e news, im in any ■ived, and ling more ger inter- omplaint, had not ', and the >d him. " but as lyet me ti in any ived. I anyhow to ques- Christ- Percy, The Money Market, 211 One moniing-the first on which his attendance was not necessary at Mr. Sale's office-Percy, hav- ing breakfasted, strolled to the window and looked out on the street. The traffic up and down St. James' poured by iu a ceaseless stream, and the pavements were crowded. A thin drizzle was fall- ing from a sky which was yellowish-gray and un- luminous, like a jaundiced skin, and the tone of the streets exactly matched that sombre hue of overhead. The wooden pavement was greasy and yellow ; umbrellas, without visible reason for their movement as seen from above, bobbed and jolted past his window, black and shining with the fine ram : the whole view was an apotheosis of sordid unrelieved gloom. Percy could not invent an extra detail which should make the scene more dreary nor could he see a single object which gave it any brightness. Horses, cabs, people, sky, pavement, were grouped into one masterpiece, the title of which might have been "Hopeless." Certainly the flames of the pit would be less terrible than an eternity of St. James' Street on such a morning. As he looked a horse of an omnibus which was passing down the street slipped and fell, and was dragged on a few yards by the impetus of the vehicle. It struggled gallantly to regain its feet : but It seemed doubtful if it could, when the driver, with a sudden savage lash of his whip, gave it the necessary effort. Percy turned back into his room with a shudder ; that one touch had completed the 1,1 ■il ! 212 iUV if., Ul\ The Money Market. <'es arts,. ,,e sai.l ; -. U cotfaHo,, t .T 'f 'S" be h.rl , interest, mouieutary it m\.\xt suddenly trilled a bar nf ! """^'' ''^'' laughed' Sell XZtlZ ' " '""' '''"^ phrase in a book of GautS 's i ,d f" '""'' "'" had arrested him Then L I ''' """"*"' " grandfather had qucS the p,r;™^"'""" '"^ Flaubert, and to 'satisfy hitnseTe ton^T'^ "^ ^eit 2bt;; di-fe :,:ethrth:';r T' "^ ■■" was merely a truism. ^ntZ^: :t^:'^:^r^^ It was not true at all m., • , "/"^ °tiier hand to be got frou/beau«f,V • "f "%"" "'"^" better than he; on the otV^r ■ '= , '"'"""''" wondering whether in".:;, ,7^^: ^-^--^ tress the arts would be found tfldnS; aty 3wn driver At ])reseiit id lying on md he lit a =>i'3«: flames !e from the " into his •onsolatioii arts." He down the ' it ini-, bright and illumina- ted froni the reflection of the sun on the water were executed. The tragedies of life did not touch Art • whatever events might take place in that blind hazardous, rough-and-tumble affair, here was a sanctuary which could not be violated, whe« the breath o morning was ever cool and here were l>'m, or as he was quite ready to admit, he had de- ceived hiinself, and that deception had spoiled and destroyed his pleasure in people. Life seeLd crude and cruel : its violence had battered and bell„ him. But what if his refuge was here? ract^ what" to'' "' ^'T"™ ^''P"'-- °f «>« race, what, to anyone who possessed an artistic ense, were the greatest tragedies and the grlate t triumphs of which the world had known? ?ert^ o. them no doubt were events taking place on the IS well as for- »uld be possi- ad once been is room, and ' child's face "g- table was le terra-cotta ace, its pose sides of the waterfall in id illumina- water, were r accurately touch Art : that blind, I ere was a . where the there were td deceived he had de- ipoiled and Jined crude nd beaten ice of the m artistic e greatest > Certnin ice on the The Money Market. 215 theatre of life, acted by living men and women ; but place, the fruit of mmd and imaginations, which cent d not be called less real, which were as' i.npo! wh chw"'"" "^ ^'^ ^''^ ^^ consciousness which we are given every morning, as auythinjr which actually happened during the day? AW certain crises in the history of the world,'historian were still in doubt whether they actually'took plac" or not bu what did that matter if Art had touclLd eaTtv IfT '^tr^ ''''''' ''' "^^ ^^-^ ^^- ' reality If it could be proved that Helen of Troy never lived, if Agamemnon was only a creation of Homer, if excavation showed that Troy was only a third-rate village in an unimportant corner of Asia Minor, would that make the //.W less real ? Who cared whether Hamlet was a historical or a real person? What did it matter whether Shakespeare owed anythingto tedious chronicles or not? Ham- uLT. ''if r ^r' ^'''' ^^^^^^' "«^ because he had actually lived and eaten mutton and feigned (or not feigned) madness, but because the art of Shakespeare had made him real. Should we not lose more If Shakespeare was lost to the world than we should gain if we found a contemporary and unimpeachable account of Macbeth, and a police- court record of the murder? What was our inherit- ance from the Greeks? Not the inventions, not even the patriotic examples of the Athenians at Marathon, or the Spartans at Thermopyl^, but a 216 The Money Market. W few marble limbs of gods, a few statuettes and vases, a few dramas. La consolation des arts became suddenly luminous. It ceased to be a truism to him, and it became true, a workable and practical statement of fact. Percy felt as if he had been dead and the hour of res- urrection was on him. Because he had been de- ceived, or because he had deceived himself in a woman, he had thought that nothing was good, nothing was true, and he had pronounced that the world and all that it contained was not worth an empty nut. He had had a smash, and he had no intention of letting such a thing be possible again, but m the debris that surrounded him he found that a whole waggonful of the things of life had not had a scratch. The whole realm of Art was as fair as it had ever been, the sun shone there with undiminished brilliance, there were no greasy pavements there on which one could slip and fall and be lashed to one's feet again. To Art St. James' Street was merely a geographical expres- sion, and Art knew nothing and cared less about geography. A timid tap came to the door and Blessington entered. Percy had written to her on his arrival in London, saying that he had lost his money and that Abbotsworthy had to be sold. If she wished to stop there, he would try to get the purchaser, who- ever he might be, to let her continue in her present place. But if not, why there was still himself to be ?s and vases, ly luminous. )ecame true, fact. Percy liour of res- id been de- imself in a was good, :ed that the 5t worth an he had no sible again, n he found of life had of Art was hone there e no greasy ^ slip and To Art St. cal ex p res- less about 31essington s arrival in syand that wished to laser, who- ler present Qiself to be 1 1 The Money Market. 217 looke 1 after, and if she would come and pour out his tea for him in I^ondon, it would be quite like old days again. Or again, she might retire and live comfortably on her annuity. In all his bitterness an 1 disgust of life, his tenderness for his old nurse had never for a moment left him, and when, the day atter, she had arrived, tremulous and tearful he had for the oniy time broken down and had sobbed with his head on her knee as if he had been a little boy again. " I thought I'd look in, Master Percy, and see how you are this morning," said the old lady. "And it IS such a wet dark day, I hope you won't think of going out." "I must take care a gypsy doesn't put me under her cloak and run away with me," said Percy, with a suddenly brightened eye. This was an old joke, founded on a supposed fear of Blessington's when Percy was out late fishing in the river at Abbptsworthy, or running about the park, and she received it with a beaming face. ^ '' Why, you look better this morning," she said. Its the camomile tea I gave you." " And I am better, Blessington," he replied; "but I can't stop in. I'm going to the British Museum." That's too far off on such a bad day ; pray-a-do stop in by your nice fire," said Blessington, who had not the slightest idea where the British Museum was. - But I thought I'd look in to see how you were, and if you won't get some young gentlemen if 1^' f w M 218 7//^ M?;e^j/ Market, II ii to have dinner with you to-night, for a little com- Percy considered. ''Yes, I think I will write a note," he said lowesT"' ^^""^ '^'''' '^^ ^' ^^^^^^^^^ it to Fel. " Come and dine to-night," he said • <* T a«, • to the British Mnseun, fo go on ^ ,; .H g^nf;'"! have d,scovered something this morning, afd 'has done me a world of good— ' I a rn„=„i *• ^ Gautier said it." consolation des arts.' yeatago'sv^r ^'"''>:'"^^™= ^h^"- less than a which he had 4en w«k L H^" -^^^ ^ith .eaved, and the page?;t^strewn"lh'l:L'r like charcoal that is fanned ^n, » J ^^" '° ^low drove off to Bloom buoCL^ obi' ""T""^ '" sion there to have certain cfsIs^enX^tCr he went straight to the superb head of iL'a'nder cut on an orange-coloured sard »nH . . "°^"^ custodian his card a.t..^ ? i ' , ' ^'""^^ "'c Jeweller's work h»H , '""" ** <^^ °Pcned. him ir t1, ' f ''''^''^' * Sreat attraction for h>m , m the nuest example, it was finished beyond f a little com- he said. ed it to Fel- "lam going the gems. I ^g, and it has ion des arts.' less than a he got down alogue with tiad it inter- i notes con- p of certain id over the rest which gin to glow hansom he led permis- )r him, and Alexander giving the se opened, raction for ed beyond The Money Market, 219 precious Tn'atL" s%r:^ '^^^f'- '"' •"'^^ -set a>„. i„ dark ™Ivet^f °n ^'T ^''^ palest yellow to pigeon'rlln^^ i " ^""^ "'" faded and rendered fore than ra?; " ""^'"^'^'^ the wonderful contr s tT„tn ^he'T u '"' ??^' ground of the sardonyx- and Tl, "^'"'^ translucency of the orr„g:"trat„,n"'':r™"''l"' world could you find vaU^JhTT' "^ '" *« by Art? It was id .f- "'^ '° apotheosized ge.n was t^reTrll hX-det/^^'Hor ",7.^ artist, holding the gem arawTif^,-^ """''^ **> at it with hfs grar r g/tt 'aTZ™'"^' have been ahl^ h^r ^u ^"" emery, painter produced his effects bv hn^'^'j^ "'^ which thrpainte'.o u f 1 ''^"'""^ ^^y'' by But for the ge „ eLT ""^ l'"'""'« '^^-'^-^S' ble; each ifrhaTtoTr: '^^'"."" P-'- «>ncea,afauu/ri;:^^SS='i^ 220 fill HH» : [■■i\ / W- '•III T/ic Money Market. "s work the engraver had to go, not only fault- lessly, but w.th dash and infinite spirit along the razor-edge of a hundred preeipiees; he could never retrace a step, a second too long against the wheel spoiled al! that had gone before. Art of this exacting kind was a severer mistress ha„ he rules of life. It denianded perfection a fault, however minute, put the artist's work i, to the second, the third, the tenth class,-it was all one. There were no undecided points in it: the thing was good, or it was bad ; everything but a signal success was a total failure. Above all the study was absorbing, and Percy felt it an exqu'isite thing to be able to be absorbed again Ernest Fellowes dined with him that evening, and found that Percy had recaptured his ^stheSc lo qnacity More than once in the last si.x months Ernest had said to him that he was only an amateur that art was only a pastime to him ; and Percy had denied i but feebly, for he had known that he would cheerfully have made a holocaust of all the pictures m the world for the brightness of Sybil's eyes. To! night, however, Fellowes retracted the accusation. I once called you a dilletante," he said as he rose to go, " but I was wrong. I told you thafyou cared for pretty things." ^ . Percy laughed. A ' u^^^if • 'f ^^^'"'"^^^ accusation," he said, "and I dont think It was ever true. Certainly I don't think It IS true now !" only fault- t along the could never t the wheel rer mistress rfection ; a work into -it was all in it: the hing but a ve all, the 1 exquisite ening, and :sthetic lo- ix months 1 amateur ; Percy had t he would le pictures eyes. To- ccusation. aid, as he I that you d, ''and I Y I don't The Money Market. 221 He paused a moment and then continued : "Why should I not tell you all about it? I made a voyage, and I was shipwrecked ; but I have scrambled to land, and I find I am not on a desert island. I mean to make no more voyages. I give it up. Women have become a perfect enigma to me. They became so as soon as I thought that I understood and was understood by one of them. Oh, I am not a misanthrope ; but my fellow-crea- tures are beyond my power of comprehension, and I don't care for riddles. Of course Art is an eternal iiddle; but one makes conscious and sure steps towards the understanding of it. It is not so with people. The better you think you know them, the more awful is the slap in the face which you eventually receive. I will have no more slaps in the face, thank you ! I have taken sanctuary." Fellowes poked the fire meditatively. •' You were always rioting into extremes," he said, "and this looks like another of them. Of course everyone who ever accomplishes anythino- only does it by going too far at first, and then get^ ting gently toned down again; and I prophecy that some day you will find you have gone too far And then perhaps you will pack your portmanteau, caulk up the leaks in your boat, and go on another voyage." "Oh, prophecy away, my dear fellow, if it amuses you," said Percy, aluiost gaily. For two months Percy held rigidly to a hermit's 222 ur ikli- i i;i The Money Market, occasionally to verifvl!,. ,■ • ' ^°"'« °"* •»" picture saHe^ H r^ "."« ^' « ""'seun. or a book l"^: ;Tf hfs subLT '"'"'r °' ""'■■"S'' be a„,o„g his fellow-creaturi agl^fle' ht'/' ? nse to his hps in happy tar • l^n, . . "'■ Mn>self whether the^wlfn; ^n S'^ir hi visitor, or to pay an^'^i'siis XttZ "I T' -al^st"".*"^' """ ^ P^found i„dr^,^L';^ TiTirasUrLtrtM^'-i'-^-- ccasionally, ^Pt the par- uit himself '"g out but useuni or a f writing a E was filled ain schools 1 amateur, it terribly questioned tile quest, a life ; in I desire to t his heart he asked ig in the art could I'liich Art , it might a man or ied these er them, see any ) at any ■lence to ■ world, jdom of iself, he TAe Money Market. 223 Percy in fact, made an attempt, as deliberate and in its way, as criminal, as the effort of the sot LnstTo r""^r"r- ^" ^^^--^-^y ; of the sen- sualist to bury the bitterness of one sin by the committal of another; or of the hopeless failure ot the coward to put an end to his life. It differed on y m this-that he, being by nature neither Drute nor coward, used means less coarse than ^in or a gun to attain his end ; but the criminality of his purpose was the same. For life, not mere con- sciousness, but the sane and healthy duty of living !•! social intercourse with one's kind, is the great ordinance from Heaven ; for it is nothing else than our duty towards our neighbour, which is our duty towards our God. ^ i!'!:'^! ': »f CHAPTER XVI. The Meeting at the Concert. instead of after her marriL ^"? " ""' ^^"'^ been so tiresome to ^r ^*' """ " *°"''' '""ve read abont, and it was terribi; Tf , ^'"^^ '° poor people with T. ce" 'd ^ ho ".' '" "" but you n,ust take the world as y u fold it"™" ' cially when you found it cc^Jl -a . "' ^'P'=- pounds for you. The world 1 ?^ ""■'" """'o" to take for granted tlrt^Kf '^"' ''■'"'' ^"ough Percy for Ust^,^ f '' """' ^°'"« '« marTy renoLed i it wasTot i, r'f'"'^""^' "''^" '-^ Hard,y„ade;;X?u It'atTr^r'' she renounced him Qi,o t, ^ ^""^^^s at the fact that quite of her ownTccorf thich w 'Tl^ '''"^''''' course, Lady Otterbou™;:o",d Z h" '' ''""' °' the marriage. Those X h^d br ^"^'V enough to cross Lady Ottobourn ■ l ""'"'='=>' ^^ ^auy jtterbourne s wishes usually lis property tain sensa- the great, at discern- they con- d, and that out before ould have tic. Hos- things to of all the horrors ; i it, espe- e million d enough to marry when he "sed and fact that ppeared, since, of ermitted unlucky usually TAe Money Market. 225 remembered it. She had an inimitable manner of saihng calmly on. like a big liner charging do wu on a fishmg smack, leaving her unfortunate vict7m a tmy wreck on the infinite sea. Even if she wa^ so f^^r Wmg as not to sink you, she bruis d Id paint off 'T-T' '' '° 'P^^'' ^"-ked all your cerUng ' " ^'' "'^^ "^^^"^^^^ -^^ ^iscon- She had always been a practical woman, one who did not waste time after a defeat in crying or be waihng herself; and on this occasion, w^.en Percy" unique among mankind, had trampled her schemed n the dust, she picked herself up witl an Iz^^ swiftness, and instantly began to conduct th " "f of Mr. Arthur Carnegie. That polite and^entT maHly fortress had been, it will be remember^ed "n" t^he pomt of capitulation before the appeamnc'e of Percy, and Udy Otterbourne did noraml^ate any long delay before it surrendered. Her < nns one might say were still in position, and there was no fresh mobilization to be done, barnegie ar i Sre'LfTbb? ^^\^^"^"^ '^ submil' ir h purchase of Abbotsworthy as soon as it was put up 11 the market was a strategical move to exoedi^e rtdlr"^^'^ Otterbourne looted uporlrhifsu" iTh/w "f;''''l^'"^^-'^^^^^^ P-^- -^d re- f4tim.nt^ hT wait r'^% T "^^^^^^'^^ ^^ Percv^s and V. 1 1^ ^^ ""^ ^^^"^ ^ ^^^^"^ of Percy s, and he would never have done to anyone 5 iii«(l < !' if^ I' ii ' v II •• > t' "'iji' I ill! r ■>'t\ i*J j',^:il| 226 The Money Market. what he considered a shabby trick. But Percy had broken with Sybil definitely and irrevocably, and no consideration, however exalted an idea one might have of friendship, could forbid one trying to get what one's friend apj^arently did not want, or at any rate was not willing to pay the price for. Abbots- worthy was again in the market, and it was natural to suppose that Percy wanted to sell it. Carnegie did not attempt to tell himself that he bought it in order to do a kindness to Percy, but lie did emphat- ically tell himself that to buy it was not unkind. He considered the purchase, indeed, a rather clever move. There was a great appropi lateness in Sybil's becoming mistress of Abbotsworthy after all, and she could not fail to notice a certain significance in his buying it. Ever since she was engaged to Percy she had seemed to him more to be desired than ever, and his purchase was a sort of guarantee that he was going to settle in England. He had had a slice of bad luck, so he considered, when she was engaged to Percy, but the sequel could not have been more fortunate. He told himself, with perfect justice, that he had a way of coming out on top, and it seemed that this affair promised to be no exception to the rule. Percy had gone back to his work at the Foreign Office at the end of his two months' leave. Why he did so he scarcely knew, except that he had au fond a strong distaste for insane proceedings, and to give himself no escape from his hermit's ; seemed it Percy had i^ocably, and 2a one might rying to get nt, or at any r. Abbots- was natural t. Carnegie bought it in did emphat- not unkind, ather clever ss in Sybil's fter all, and ^nificance in 3^ed to Percy d than ever, that he was id a slice of k^as engaged been more feet justice, top, and it o exception he Foreign ave. Why t he had au ngs, and to life seemed The Mo7iey Market, 227 to him to Imve this tendency. Living as he did now among abstractions, definitefacts an^d definit regt lar work appeared to him a sort of tonic. At heart broueht h^' 1 '" T' ^'^ '°^^°^^^ ^»"' ^"d had Drought him through a terrible time in which S ht V'r' \^'''' ^^^^^ ^--^ filter B.; bitter he had not become, for he had left himse f no tnne for morbid brooding. Deceived and dTsap pointed as he felt, he had, with a certain manfv But he had gone hke the drunkard to his bottle and had besotted hims.h with tint and colour' f^r%7om' hf" '7 T'^^^^^^^ ^^ ^-^ ^ff-etthe affair from his mind, called him shallow, and said talelThr; 'T?^'^^- ^'''' ^- - - '^- mt He had taken to going to concerts again and in ^e January of the next year he took a s^eat for To Wagner concerts which were to be given at S James's Hall. The firstof these was rfth r /„ pfy but on coming to the second, he saw when he entered the hall that the place ^as densely pa Iced The first piece was on the point of beginningand he sidled by rows of people to his s!at. 1; he reached it the music began, and taking a has^ glance round he saw that Sybil was sitfing n"^ him. Beyond her and next her was Carnegie. He had one moment's impulse to leave his seat 228 The Money Market. n I 1- 4 , but at the next he determined to stay. He bowed to Sybil, who turned her face away, and settled himself to listen to the Ta7mhauser ov^x\x\xt. It was exquisitely played, and before many moments were over he had half forgotten whom he was sitting next ; and when it was finished he felt no impulse to go, but only an immense curiosity to see what he himself and what Sybil would do and say. He found the interest of his own situation quite ab- sorbing. Carnegie also had seen him, and, when the over- ture was over, Percy leaned forward. " How are you?" he said. "We have not met since September." Carnegie had an immense admiration for nerve, and certainly Percy possessed that to a very high degree. His manner was absolutely easy, without a shade of effort to be easy. Carnegie made some reply, and Percy looked at Sybil. She was dressed, as he had so often seen her, in white, with a satin riband at her neck and another at her waist. Her dress was a sort of half-toilette, cut high at the neck, but somewhat short in the sleeves, which were covered with bunches of lace ; and she had no hat on. Round her neck she wore three rows of mag- niLcent pearls, and it was not till Percy had looked at them twice that he remembered that they were those that he had given her and which she had never sent back. He was desperately inclined to laugh, the thing struck him as inexpressibly comic ; '. He bowed , and settled Tture. It was lonients were £ was sitting It no impulse ' to see what md say. He on quite ab- len the over- ave not met )n for nerve, a very high asy, without made some was dressed, with a satin waist. Her high at the , which were had no hat )ws of mag- ' had looked .t they were icli she had inclined to libly comic ; The Money Market. 229 and not till that moment did he realize and formu- late to himself how completely his love for her was dead. He looked at her long, as he might look at a beautiful statue-critically and intelligently, and It seemed to him that she had never been so beauti- ful. Never had such an exquisite piece of modelling come from Nature's hands ; there was no flaw in it It was a piece of workmanship as fine as one of his favourite gems. She was breathing rather quickly with suppressed but evident agitation, and the moonlight pearls round her neck moved gentW like the heaving of a sea asleep. Percy saw it-saw that t was this meeting with him, and his long gaze at her which had disconcerted her, and, with the quick compunction of a gentleman, he spoke to her. Once he had spoken, he thought she might be at her ease ; what he could not do was to tro away. ^ ^ "Lady Otterbourue is in London?" he asked I saw 111 the paper she had been having influenza.' had^if' '' ' ^^^^ ^''"'^°" ''^^' ^° ^^^^^ The perfectly natural tone of his voice, as he had expected, reassured Sybil. "Yes, she is better, thanks," she said, looking at him for the first time. " In fact, she meant to come here to-night. How beautifully they did the over- "Yes, it was wonderfully done," he said. "And how extraordinarily full the place is. Ust week llj' ll ]•' 1 ^^^^^^^^■t 1 ,) 1 I ' ( (1 t 1 ^^H^ ^^^■^1 1 1- '111' ' if ^K'^i W 230 T/ie Money Market, it was quite empty, but to night there really is not a vacant place." They talked together quite naturally for a mo- ment or two, till the second piece began, and in the interval between the parts Percy and Carnegie strolled to the foyer and smoked a cigarette. Car- negie had something to say, which he found diffi- cult. He did not know whether certain news had reached Percy. In any case he thought there could be no harm in mentioning what he soon must know, even if he did not already. In any case, the fact that Percy had found himself and Sybil alone at a concert must have given him a hint. "It's to come off directly after Easter," he said at length. Percy looked at him inquiringly for a moment. The remark was not d propos of what they had been talking about. "I beg your pardon," he began, when suddenly he understood. "Ah, your marriage with Lady Sybil," he said, " I never congratulated you. Please accept my congratulations now." He shook hands with him, then suddenly laughed. "It will be pleasant for her going back to Ab- botsworthy," he said, with uncontrollable bitter- ness. "She admired Abbotsworthy enormously, I remember." ■ Then he recollected himself with a flush of shame and contrition. e really is not ally for a mo- an, and in the and Carnegie garette. Car- tie found difFi- tain news had houglit there yliat he soon ;ady. In any himself and given him a iter," he said or a moment, hat they had hen suddenly je with Lady i you. Please enly laughed. ; back to Ab- )llable bitter- inormously, I lusli of shame The Money Market. 231 " I beg your pardon," he said ; " I don't know now I came to say that." They got back into the hall before the second part^^began, and Percy took his seat again next ;'I have to congratulate you," he said, in a low voice, and I do so, Sybil, from my heart. I be- lieve you will have a very good husband, and I sin- cerely hope you will be happy." She did not raise her eyes ; but she felt for one moment a pang of shame for all she had done from the first moment that she had seen Percy, down to this pitiful appearance, wearing his jewels. It was a sorry story that the recording angel had against her. You were always generous," she said, and her hand wandered nervously and involuntarily to the row of pearls round her neck. He saw the action and understood it. It was ter nbly difficult either to speak or to be silent. Then just as the music began : ' Q 'i!.M n^l ^''^./^'" "'^ ^^^^xn^ present to you, t>ybil," he said, with admirable quietness. She looked up at him, and he saw that her eyes were brimming. At that he got up, and in his healthy soul there was infinite pity for the girl and no^grain of reproach. It was a good moment.' • Perhaps I should have gone at once," he whis- pered, "but I wanted very much to speak to you Please forgive me, Sybil. " And nodding to Carnegie he again sidled out past I 232 ' 1 'it if M •■'MM: If' fill !■■ I Ti,' * lis 7/2='" "lave to send them back," she said; and that salutary moment Carne te "^"^ "^^ '" '"''''^° ^'^"'"' ^"S^^ *'"' Besides Percy wouldn't like it. He's one of the best of fellows," he added. Percy „,eautime had walked back along Picca- dilly to St. James' Street. He felt as if he had been through some dreaded ordeal, which had turned out not be an ordeal at all. Now that he had seen Sybil again, he discovered that what he had been dreading, what had made himself shun the world was, in large measure, the fear of being brought' however indirectly, into contact with her, eithef b^ the sight of her, or even by the most distant allu- s.on to her. But the moment he saw her, he felt only intense curiosity to see how they would behave would be like the handling of an unhealed wound and now for the first time when the old wound had been touched, did he know that it was raw no longer, but healthy normal flesh. I„ some sub e way too the sight of her had waked him^p Im^^! ugly. Her incomparable beauty, which he felt he Ldiff"::--''^"'"' """»-' -d his absolute indii&rcncc to it except as beauty, was at the same time a stimulus and a consolation. He had lain in 234 The Money Market. mm bed, as it were, for tliese months, and now that he got np he found he was well. Once again the mys- tery and attraction of crowds asserted itself, and he strolled slowly along drinking in the streets like a thirsty man. It was a fine night and warm for winter, and the pavements were full of the indescribable froth of the I^ondon streets. Newspaper boys were shout- ing the horrible and revolting details of an East-end murder and the birth of a Royal Prince, all in one breath ; the lounger of the streets stared at every face that passed him; under the gas lamps of Bur- lington House stood two Members of Parliament and a Cabinet Minister, who looked like a butler out of place, conversing earnestly ; gaudy, faded-looking women made eyes at the passers-by; an elderly clergyman fled past Percy with horror written on every line of his face, as if he had unexpectedly found that the world was disconcertingly wicked ; a policeman stood in mid-street in the stress of a roaring spat of admirable law-abiding omnibuses and hansoms, and stopped this flood and let out that with a wave of the hand, like a lock-master, or like a conductor controlling an intelligent orchestra; a dog, carrying on its neck a box for the alms of those charitably inclined towards the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, trotted amiably along smiling and smelling at interesting corners, and a particu- larly seedy-looking individual sold copper-plated collar-studs at three a penny. now that lie ^ain the iiiys- itself, and he streets like a iter, and the ible froth of were shout- ' an East-end :e, all in one red at every imps of Bur- rl lament and butler out of ided-looking ; an elderly >r written on nexpectedly gly wicked ; e stress of a ^ omnibuses and let out k-master, or it orchestra; the alms of revention of 3ng smiling d a particu- >pper-plated The Money Market. 235 Percy could have laughed aloud at finding him ^ark. As he passed the Berkelpv wlf i .? , were thrown open and fi vf ^ ' ^^^ ^°°'^ """of ^r^'-°S--d one of the,.: "• '" ^ again, and it is good to be alive T 'J'"^ along a real streef, and mCouI^Z^^^^, me come to lunch to-morrow " "' P''"!"^- Let "I congratulate you, Percy," she said. " Yes dn come, unless you've forgotten the wav." ' ^^ it now " '^°"'" ''•" '""'''■ "''"' I -"ember She gave him a quick pleased nod, and got into waitinrir h:r'^^^ ""- ^='"- -^ -'- -: Percy turned and went home. It was still o„T^. half-past ten, and on the table lay a bolk with =o i 236 The Money Market, concert. But now he looked at it doubtfully a moment, sat down with an eflfort, and read a page. As he turned over it struck him that he had not an idea of what he had been reading, and he applied himself again to it. But the second attempt was no better than the first, and he shut it up and went to the window. The blinds had not been drawn, and he stood there some little while looking out. The long lines of lighted gas led down the hill in sharp perspective to St. James's Palace, and the illuminated clock-face shone out through the thick air like a large moon behind mist. Streams of that inimitable invention, the human race, passed and repassed, and Percy found himself gazing with an intentness and interest that the admirable work on Claude could not rouse in him. At last he turned. " Thank God for this world," he said. '.J,: \k\\ loubtfully a read a page. t had not an i he applied attempt was up and went Deen drawn, ooking out. 1 the hill in ce, and the >h the thick earns of that passed and ing with an ble work on t he turned. 1. CHAPTER XVn. The Rcsuffection. Percy woke next morning slowly and luxuriously with a sense of interest in the day which increased as his sleep evaporated off him. During the last few months the thoughts of the gems he would ex- amme that day, and the pictures he would look at had never showed themselves rose-coloured at wak! ing. Though he had been able to interest himself as It seemed to h-'m at the time, passionately, when he was at work, the waking thought that there would be another day, which both before he met Sybil and up to the day of the catastrophe had been habitually rapturous, had turned cold and dead as uiiluminous as the East at sunset. The joy of mere ife, the simple elemental pleasures of existence - like bathing when one was hot, eating when one was hungry,-had deserted him. But this morning they seemed to be with him again, and consequently since the joy of lying in bed is known only to the happy, he lay with his hands clasped behind his head, staring at the ceiling, counting the number of sprigs of fern on a line of his bedroom paper, and getting confused about half-way across the room • wondering what the time was, and forbearing to look at his watch which ticked close to his elbow. 237 ■I. ill 238 The Money Market. He even tried to persuade himself that he had not been called, and thought it quite possible that his clothes, which had been arranged on a chair near his bed, had been put there overnight by his valet A little gentle tap came at the doer, and Percy* knowing who it was, shut his eyes again and pre' tended to be asleep. He heard Blessington come on tiptoe round the screen by the head of the bed then very quietly she went across to the window and drew down the blind again to shut out the blink of yellow daylight which filtered through the panes. Percy opened his eyes. "Eh, it would be a pity to wake him," he said imitating Blessington's voice to perfection. ' Blessington had the faculty of adoration, which is rare in these days, and she exercised it exclusively on Percy. ''I thought you wouldn't get up yet," she said. Shall I tell Clarke to bring you your breakfast in bed ? " "What time is it?" he asked. *' Half-past nine," said Blessington, "by me But I'm a little slow." Percy groaned. ^^ "I've only slept nine hours," he said hopelessly Isn't it terrible for me ? It was hardly worth while going to bed." "Well then, shall I tell Clarke to light you a bit of fire for you to dress by ? " asked she ; " or I'll do it myself in a minute. " he had not )le that his chair near y his valet, and Percy, in and pre- igton come of the bed, he window t the blink the panes. " he said, n. 1, which is xclusively ' she said, eakfast in ' me. But opelessly. ►rth while you a bit or I'll do The Money Market. '239 *'Not even that, Blessington," he said. "Oh I am happy this morning ! " ' Blessington looked at him a moment with dim eyes. " Bless you, dear," she said, and left the room. Percy got lazily out of bed, and went into his bathroom next door. There was a big marble tank sunk in the floor, and stripping off his night- shirt he took a long breath and plunged in, head under water. How pleasant the sting of the cold water was, and how soul-satisfying the glow of the skin that his rough towel gave! The tiles of the bathroom were cold to the feet, and he went back to his bedroom with his hair dripping and uncombed from the water and finished his drying there, stand- ing on the thick Persian rug by his bed. Every- thing went right that morning: his razor was sharp, his soap showed a positive propensity to lather, he did not drop his toothbrush into the water in which he had washed his hands, and it seemed that unseen hands managed the buttoning of studs and braces, and the lacing of his boots. Above all, there was another day, whole batches of minutes, almost innumerable. The morning passed before he was aware that he had finished breakfast. It is true that he rode for an hour or so on his bicycle, that he called at several shops, wrote a couple of letters at the Bachelors' Club, and read the advertisements in the Daily Telegraph; but before he had realised 4' 240 T/te Money Market, m that the hours were on the move, he was already late for lunch at the Stoaklej-s', where Lady Stoakley and Blanche, who were alone, had beeun without him. •* I have no excuse of any kind," he said as he entered the room, "and it is delightful to see you again Udy Stoakley. It was the luckiest chance that I happened to pass the Berkeley so simul- taneously-you see what I mean. Anyhow, here I am : I have seen nobody for several months, and It won t do ; here and now I renounce the error of my ways." He looked round with beaming frankness. " Oh, I was wrong, I know," he said, «' but how IS one to learn wisdom except by the assiduous and constant practise of folly? I like profiting by my own mistakes, not by the mistakes of other people. But one has to pay a huge price for a little wisdom. Yet it is better than learning wis- dom on the cheap. Yes, last night only I abandoned the hermitage, and the brotherhood of one is broken up. I went to a concert— why should I not tell you ?-and I sat next to Sybil. I never saw her so mcomparably beautiful, and I drank her beauty in till I was in love with life again. At least that is one explanation; of course there are plenty of others. Also, I heard from Carnegie that she was to marry him after Easter, and I swear that I con- gratulated them both with absolute sincerity." It was hard to reply to such surprisingly frank ivas already here Lady had begun said as lie to see you iest chance so simnl- yhow, here lonths, and he error of less. ' * but how assiduous I profiting iS of other >rice for a rning wis- ibandoned : is broken I not tell saw her so beauty in ist that is plenty of t she was lat I con- ity." §:ly frank T/ir Monty Market, 241 statements, and Percy went on, after eating a quantity of frills and chopped carrots : "I suppose I should be called 'a cure' if I went to see a doctor," he said. "Are these remarks in bad taste? I rather think they are, but I can't trou- ble to think of matters of taste to-day. Taste is only a veneer, a superficial sort of varnish : I hate taste!" Blanche laughed. "Oh, Percy," she cried, ''were you ever accused of being consistent? How often, with a very solemn face, have you told me that taste is the( ily thing in the world?" "Consistent? Who wants to be consistent?" he said. " I couldn't be consistent if I tried, so it is lucky I don't want to. Only, T am alive again. Being alive really is exceedingly different to being dead. It sounds simple, doesn't it ; but that is the sum of the wisdom I have learned in these last months. The point is, that I have learned it. Yes some more chicken, please." ' Percy stayed an unconscionable time after lunch and talked a great deal. Udy Stoakley had to go out at three, and she left the two together in her room, Percy smoking cigarettes, and both of them talking at once, neither pretending for a moment to be listening to what the other was saying. Percy had large arrears of unspoken criticisms to make on every branch of arc under the sun ; but after either condemning wholesale a hundred artists whom 16 f 'Ui /''. ^i 242 T/ie Money Market. of " , m! ^^'" 7^^°^^ '° "^ *e most notable ot all 1 me or ,„sistn,g that a hundred others of whom she had never heard were eaeh of H em the pe "o^alTattet t^d t'o'T- ' H-' '^ ^''""^ °^ "'°- f, t.- 7 ";^"^^^' ^"^ to Ills dissertat on on these ::nScfinr """^' ^"'°"' ^"'"™^""^ - "I met her last night, as I told you," he said and ,t wasrevealed to me in a flash tha the whot Bead, d^ead, a-ZS cirorof •Jht'^-^et": T/" ''ff''- ^'^ """"^^ ««" Sybil was the a mt r V.° r" ''°"' ■"'*'"« -hateviroi a most beautiful woman. Do you know, Blanehe IrthyT^'^"'' ™ ""' ''^^ --"'■'« a' Abbo,:; "Vaguely only. Tell me." "Well, I told Lady Otterbourne and Sybil that I ■ felt I could not toueh the money my g a. Ifether had made by money-lending. Do you no !h stand the feelingP Then lid I ^erv I't Lady Otebourne alone, who told ,„e pretty plalj that Syb,l could not marry a poor mai I am glad ^ wJ L V"'"* ''^'' ^ '"<' "°' believe her f^Tat Sybil would decide for herself; and when I w;n to ask Sybtl .nnnediately afterwards, I was not frfght! ened or m doubt at all. I never dreamed-ie! that my money w.^s so much more important lost notable i others of 'f them the ■n endowed ^e of more '1 on these rupting or " he said, the whole ted before I knew it. lit. Yet I I was the ever, only Blanche, t Abbols- bil that I and father >t under- iew with y plainly am glad her, that [ went to )t fright- d— well, nportant T/ie Money Market. 243 than I. Oh, it was very salutary ! The odd thing is that I wasn't angry. It was such a tremendous surprise." "And she, Sybil?" *'She agreed with her mother," remarked Percy wholly and entirely." Blanche held out her hand. "Poor dear Percy," she said, "you don't know how sorry I was for you, but I did not think you wanted to see anyone. That was why I did not come. I had a great belief in your sanity, and I was not the least afraid of your growing bitter or blowing out your brains. When people are work- ing out their own salvation it is always well to leave them alone. But I wrote to you " lettefstrnV""'"'^"'" '"^ ^" * ^'^ ^''' ^^^ '^' ^ "I want to ask you one thing," said Blanche. If before you had absolutely decided to throw up the money you had known that Sybil would act as she did, would you have done it?" Percy considered a moment. "I find it hard to say," he replied. '«You see It was really no case of decision at all with me Nothing else for a moment seemed to me possible On the other hand, what Sybil did never seemed to me possible. So really I hardly know. But I think that I should not have acted differently, just because I could not. But even if there had been a decision. If I nad realised then that Sybil's affection for me 1 1 m '.a < 244 mi The Money Market. was dependent on pounds sterling, I should not nave wished for it on such terms." "Yet you loved her?" ''I know I did," said he, "but-but-oh, do you not understand?" There was silence and soon Percy rose II I must go," he said ; "but may I come back>" ^^ Surely," said she, smiling at him. "And may I come back often, Blanche?" he asiceu. She laughed. "Yes, if you will go away now," she said. Fellowes dined with Percy that night, and came prepared to find a haggard student of obscure artists to entertam him with abstruse information. His host was not down when he arrived ; but as he waited for him, his very acute and observant eye detected, so it thought, a subtle change which had passed over the room since he had seen it last. At first he could not say exactly what it was, for on ' first view It was as undefinable as the bounding Ime which separates winter from spring, but the details which made up the impression slowly de- tached themselves from the vagueness and became outlined. Percy's armchair, for instance, was drawn up to the fire in a position as if it had been lately used, while the table where he worked had the air of a house with the blinds drawn down, in the absence of the family. Near the armchair on the floor lay a book open on the carpet, and Fellowes [ should not — ob, do you se. ome back ? " anche?" he ; said. t, and came scure artists lation. His ; but as he servant eye : which had it last. At was, for on ' e bounding tig, but the slowly de- tnd became was drawn been lately had the air vvii, in tlie lair on the Fellowes, The Money Market, 245 i picking it up, observed that it was a copy of Gerald Everslefs Friendship^ which Percy had covered with pictures illustrative of that remarkable text. Several cigarette ends lay in the fender, and several little streaks of ash on the hearth-rug, and Fellowes made the admirable deduction that Percy had been smoking cigarettes and reading Gerald Eversley's Friendship. This betokei ', ,ther very low spirits or exceedingly cheerful oats. He turned over the leaves of the book to see if there were any further indications, and finding a new illustration of L,ord Venniker, that amazing nobleman, in a frock-coat and a bowler hat at Harrow Station, he decided that Percy was in cheerful spirits. No large books on gems or other branches of art strewed the tables, all were in their shelves ; and on the piano there stood open no example of what Fellowes called the explosive method, which meant one large chord like a bombshell followed by a mUe'e of small black ones, but the dance music out of Henry VIII. And as he heard Percy's foot upon the threshold of the open door : " Enter the amateur !" he cried. Percy ran at him across the room, and Fellowes dodged behind the table. *' The devoted slave of the divine mistress Art never rages," he observed with emphasis. Percy said something which sounded like " Con- found the divine mistress," but his words were drowned in a sudden rush he made round the cor- 246 The Money Market. ii'ii 1^1 1^1 m ner of the table, upsetting it and bringing it to the ground with a frightful crash. He gazed upon the ruin with perfect equanimity, bay you saw Percy in the ruins of-No o St James' Street," he observed fatuously. " Come to dinner, Ernest." The two went through the folding-doors into the dining-room, took their seats, and ate soup in silence. Percy drummed on the table with his hngers, and then suddenly laughed. "Kindly explain," said Ernest. "I will after dinner. Oh, I've drawn a new picture of I.ord Venniker! It is in the grand style." ** "I saw it It seems to me to have the note of nobility," observed Ernest. " Glad you think so. I am no. sure, out I think I must get the book interleaved. I have several more drawings in my head." I' I expected somethingof this sort," said Ernest 'Why?" Well, I looked round the room before you came down. I found cigarette ash on the hearth-rue and Gerald Eversley. Also your armchair drawn up to the fire. There was the Henry VIII music on the piano, and the works dealing with the Di vine Mistress neatly in their shelves. I saw " " My name is Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street " interrupted Percy. ' " Quite right. How did you guess ? " w. The Money Market. 247 ^^ "It was au induction, not a guess," said Percy. Have some more fish ? No? Then I will. Yes, I ve passed a very remarkable twenty-four hours or,^ to be exa-t, twenty-three." was If of I '^ '°°''''' '°"'"'' ^"' '■■■^ ^---"' was out oi the room. " You have heard certain news about a person in whom you were once very muel. interested " Percy sliook his head. ''That is ingenious," he said, "and true. But t at was not the first caure of it. But probably that had something to do with it." "There is nothing like cold water to wake one up, -said Ernest, " that and a slap in the face." Ah, the slap in the face didn't answer with "m stt T- "''"' "^"^ ^''^-"^ Ernest, tha I must have been precious near beco.ning cynical or m.santhrop>c, or something silly of that kind." Ernest"'""' ^ ^°"^'" ^°" ^°"''' ''""P " "P-" ^^id i2;lAZ:>^'''''''''"^''^''-'^- "I --per- "^ I didn't think you were posing. " * ' That was exceedingly kind of you. The cigar- e tes are by you. Shall we sit here or go into the other room? At ten, by the way, we are goin. to see the Tramp Bicyclist at the Empire. llve^he Empire. Tt combines amusement with instruction and IS funny without being prudish." 248 The Mo7iey Market. Iflfe ' That sounds all right. I was afraid you were going to take me to hear Wagner, or something very classical and tedious." "No, the Wagner concert was last night. Let's sit here. It all happened at the Wagner concert " *' All what?" "All my little transformation " said Percy. "A match, please. Thanks. It is a very short story. I went into my place like a crab, all sideways, as one does when one is late, past an interminable row of indignant and apparently huge people, and found myself in a stall next Sybil." "That is good," said Ernest; "the British public appreciates that sort of thing. Well ? " " Yes, it would make quite a good scene in one of your rotten little stories, if yo.i had any sense of style. It is odd to me, considering how much you write, how badly you do it. On the other side of Sybil was Carnegie, looking very cool and gentle- manly. For a moment I thought of bolting ; but I stopped, because I was so frightfully interested to know what she and I would do. At the moment I could not guess. And then I made the grand dis- covery." "What was that?" " That she was more beautiful than the morning, and that I did not love her. Then came in the second factor at which you made such an ingenious and correct guess. What an exquisite pleasure each of these discoveries was ! In the interval Car- id you were something ight. Let's ir concert." Percy. "A short story. >ideways, as ninable row , and found itish public :ene in one ny sense of much you her side of and gentle- ting; but' I teres ted to ! moment I grand dis- e morning, ime in the ingenious i pleasure :erval Car- T/ie Mo7iey Market 249 negie and I smoked a cigarette together and he toM me the marriage would come off after Easter. We went back, and I congratulated Sybil with all my heart. I am glad to have known a girl as beautiful as that. I also told her she might keep— no I won't tell you that. But there is the history of 'it The change was made. I went out and literally danced down Piccadilly. Opposite the Berkeley I saw Blanche." *' Did you dance with her?" " No, but I lunched with her to-day." Earnest was silent a moment. ''Did it ever occur to you that you were a pro- found egoist ?' ' he asked at length. -Never How could it? The egoist never thmks of himself as egoistical. Of course I am an egoj^t : that is no discovery. But to do myself justice, I am quite as interested in other people as I am in myself, though how they strike me is what matters The critic always sees things as they strike himself, never as in themselves they really are, as that curious school-inspector said. But there is one noint which is so odd." '' Is it about yourself or other people? " "Oh, myself, of course. Don't interrupt. To think that last September only I was simply head- over-ears in love with Sybil, and now, only four months later, I am master of myself again." "You have got over it, that is all," said Ernest. 'What a great many words an egoist ^li MIT' ■ >! "yiiv. ill-Ill,' 11 lit- , m 'It \ '! "M: ! 'J' 'hi ' 1,1 '"i' |! it \ ilA 250 The*'Money Market, seems to want in order to express a very simple thing." " Yes, but how quickly, how thoroughly I have got over it ! She is to me a beautiful woman, that is all." Ernest turned his chair round to the fire, and flicked his cigarette ash into the grate. " I don't see what the actual lapse of time has to do with getting over a thing," he said. "If one gets over a thing quickly, one is called either in- sincere or shallow. That is libellous. The people who continue mourning and regretting a thing are either idle people who are too lazy to control their minds and emotions, or undervitalised people who have no rebound in them. Supposing I lost six- pence, and was shut up in a tower to think over my loss without books to read or people to talk to, I should go on thinking about that sixpence for years." Percy laughed. "That is a good explanation," he said. " I, as you know, instantly, or rather after a week of work, plunged into Art. I take off my hat to Art. I am very grateful to her. She console^^ me excellently, and kept me from going sour. For weeks I thought of nothing else. Then that incident happened last night, and I find I am alive again." "And had lunch with Blanche Stoakley to-day," observed Ernest. "Yes, and am going to see the Tramp Bicyclist \n\ ♦ m very simple iglily I have woman, that the fire, and ■ time has to id. "If one ;d either in- The people I a thing are control their people who g I lost six- ) til ink over !e to talk to, sixpence for aid. "I, as iek of work, Art. I am excellently, ks I thought appened last ley to-day," m/> Bicyclist The Money Market. 251 to-night," said Percy, jumping up. "We'll walk ; the streets are so jolly. Ernest," and he took him by the arm, " they are full of men and women, and all these months I have never remembered that." The sight of Percy had been extraordinarily pleasant to Blanche, and his abandonment of his absurd hermit's life not less so. That the sight of him was also strangely exciting to her, she would not admit to herself, though it was quite indubitably true. Frankly she had been dis- appointed in him in the autumn; she had hoped and believed he would have conducted himself more successfully. Anyone, she told herself, could go and shut himself up and see none of his friends Percy ought to have taken a finer and, she added," a more characteristic line. No doubt the sudden- ness of the blow had staggered him ; it was natural that his world should seem bouhcrse, but it was a confession of incompetence to make a hermit of himself. True, as everyone said, and as he himself had told her, he had buried himself in work,— he had made one passion take the place of another,— but in order to study Art there was no reason why you should give a shut door to your best friends. Blanche confessed that she could not suggest a line that should be striking, but she held an extremely high opinion of Percy's possibilities, and in tliis he had acted below his best. Anyhow, the treatment had succeeded. There was no denying that to day he had been quite com- I-' ' m ii-it I 252 T/tc Money Market. pletely hnnself again. Like Fellowes, she did not think ,t argued either shallowness o nature "o hal lowness in his love of Sybil, that in so' Tw months he had buried the past. Had he been les! uccessful, had he become melancholy, bitter, ready o say his hfe was spoiled, she would have given hun the sympathy that all true women feel for what ,s weak and inferior; but she would in 1 way have cons.derol that such signs indicated fait^ fulness, or strength of affection. She, too, would have put them down to a lack of othW intrresti and a feeble vitality. Six months ago, Xn, ' .ad communed with herself alone, a,,d confes d hat Percy was more to her than other men she too had a struggle; bnt she had conquered ,.' momentary distaste of things. The thing couTd not be Very good ; there was no more to be "aid but thank Heaven there were still pi nty mot things to be done. ^ "Faithfulness," she had said once, long ago to Percy, "as so many people understand it, is a sVn of weakness, not of strength. People seem to thiS It becoming to put their minds and emotions into crape for years ; and grief, quite genuine grief often has the awmi effect of making so many pipIe^osT They cut their motirning by the most fashioifabTe patterns; and, if one believes, as I most certain Iv do, that a bereavement is not sent one altogether blindly but with design and purpose, it is aXult to the Power that sends it ♦- «--' • - - beh ave as if the object she did not nature, nor ■ in so few le been less •itter, ready have given en feel for ould in no cated faith- too, would r interests, when she I confessed f men, she [uereH her ling could to be said, enty more ng ago, to t, is a sign n to think tions into rief, often -ople pose, ishionable certainly altogether an insult the object T/ie Money Market. 253 of it could possibly have been to cripple your affec- tions and thwart your energies." To a certain extent, Percy had succumbed, had confessed himself beaten. He had cut himself off from the living, breathing world, which is not less essential to the life of a man than his heart or his lungs. But that was over, and he had come back • he had ceased to be insane, he held up his head agam. Also, she recollected (and suddenly put the stopper on her recollections) he was free. Sybil had told Lady Otterbourne about her meet- ing with Percy the evening before, and about his renewed gift of the pearls to her, at which her mother came near to feeling a sense of shame. His generosity to them both had had something splen- did about it, and she knew with annoying vivid- ness how incredibly mean Sybil must have seemed to him. Sybil as a matter of fact had consulted her about the returning of the pearls immediately after the breaking off of the match, and Udy Ot- terbourne had advised her to keep them till he sent for them. " You cannot send fifty thousand pounds worth of jewels through the penny post," she had said, ' Percy will certainly send for them and you had better keep them till he does. They must, of course, be delivered to his representative." This had happened in September; but as the days went on, and still Percy did not'send for the pearls, I^ady Otterbourne began to wonder whether 254 'Ifie Money Market. *f;fri p.'' ;ii r ' 1 he ever would. To say that she contemplated a theft would be grossly overstating the thing; but it more than once struck her that pearls always suited Sybil very well. Percy, it was to be sup- posed, was broken hearted : at any rate, he had shut himself up and would not see his friends, and Ivady Otterbourne compounded with her conscience over the delay by saying that it would not be deli- cate to intrude on his grief. She mcant-yes, she quite distinctly meant to send the pearls back to him sometime soon, but where was the hurry ? Sybil was engaged to Arthur Carnegie soon after Christmas, and the engagement was made public early in January. The pearls had been in Udy Otterbourne's own jewel safe all the autunm, and Sybil had not worn them ; indeed, it was only a couple of nights before her meeting with Percy at the Wagner concert that her mother had come into her room as she was dressing for dinner with the case in her hand. "I thought you might like to wear the pearls just once or twice," she said. "Of course, Percy will soon send for them. He will send for them as soon as he hears of your marriage, I daresay. Wear them to-night, Sybil. How magnificent they are ! " Sybil looked at them. " Yes, they are wonderful," she said. " Mother, do you think Percy means me to keep them ? He surely would have sent for them by now, would he itemplated a e thing ; but carls always s to be stip- •atc, he had friends, and r conscience not be deli- iit — yes, she iris back to hurry ? ie soon after nade public en in L,ady utunin, and was only a til Percy at d come into er with the the pearls urse, Percy i for them I daresay, nagnificeut "Mother, hem ? He , would he The Momy Market. 255 not? I remember his giving me 'hem so well. ' They are your own, your very own,' he said." "Wear them tonight, anyhow," said T.^dy Ottcrbourne. "Would not Arthur think it Strang. >?" she asked. "Might he not ask how I goi fhem^ That would not be pleasant." "My dear, Arthur never asks such questions. Probably he will not notice them. Tdcn don't see pearls." But when Sybil told Lady Otterbourne this mornin.r about what Percy had said to her, she felt almost ashamed. " He really is very generous," she said. " How did he look, Sybil ? Did he look much changed?" "No, I don't think he did," said Sybil. "Oh, mother, do you think I treated him very badly?" ' " It is too late to think of that, Sybil," said her mother. "What is done, is done. He was obsti- nate ; he persisted in doing a mad, absurd thing. Think of that ; perhaps that may be some comfort to you." ''Comfort? Why should I want comfort?" demanded Sybil, with the foxy look in her face. " You asked if I thought you had treated him badly. I supposed you felt ashamed. I cannot say that I think you treated him well." Sybil flushed. "Yon would not have allowed me to marry him," she said hotly. " I knew it was impossible." 256 The Money Market. ili. it: I i il "Yes, but you saved me the trouble of not allowing you," said Udy Otterbourne, very calmly othr rr ''' ' ^^" '''' '^^^^'y -ith each Ynu\ I '" "°^ " P^" ^^ choose between us You had no intention of marrvinp- him ZV u insisted on giving up the moner I did' rJ^s" ,' word to dissuade you." ^^ ^ II You entirely approved what I did " EJntirely. I never denied it Be<;id^c c luduer, ^ybU. There is no earthly obiVnf C . ^'f '^""S ''"^^^'^^^ ^nd each oSe Percy has behaved most generously. Yo, andl have not. Let us admit it and forget it Bv L way, u would be well to have the pS s insmed ^t once. We ought to have had it doL o„™bu one expected from day to day that Peri^woHd send for them. Perhaps he has had them inTu-H *eady. No doubt he will let you W Xe they are insured, if so." w wnere Sybil did not think it necessary to enlighten her mother as to Carnegie's view of her accm nce^f the g,ft, and the two parted with a slight b "t not uncommon feeling of resentment on fach side Syb, feeling injured by her mother's fr nk tsT ^birs1;m"T:^'" '""^'^ "^^'y otterbou „ T; Sybils ittle attempts to gloss things over which she considered futile and nonsensicah 3le of not iry calmly, with each itween us. , when he not say a sides, one ipproving et us dis- ^i^ object -h other, ou and I By the nsured at ago, but -y would • insured w where htta her stance of but not I side — inkness, irne by , which CHAPTER XVIII. The Songf of Son^s. Sybil's marriage was celebrated on the Tuesday after Easter, and was a very magnificent affair. The settlements which Mr. Carnegie made on his bride were immense ; and it was said, definitely, that he intended to settle down in England. Also it was commonly reported that Udy Otterbourne pro- fessed herself to be satisfied; and that was thought to be saying a great deal. Among other jewels, the bride wore a magnificent necklace of three rows of pearls, which were not mentioned as being the gift of the bridegroom, and which, in consequence, were generally supposed by the amiably inclined to be "Roman." Percy had been asked to the wedding, a fact much commented on. His own comment, however, was the most interesting. He read the card with a face of blank surprise, and then laughed for five mxnutes. But he had gone down to spend a week with Mrs Montgomery, at her house near Goring, where he had stayed once before in the early autumn, and he did not propose to go up with her to the ceremony Mrs. Montgomery was rather disappointed. She had thought to herself how extremely dramatic it would be if Percy was to appear at the wedding 257 258 ; mi lit #«";■• rr *::; ^ ■U.: L) ^!l('. .■ '■^ i^frfl.i t , iil'^l fi ali-^ T/te Money Market. polite and radiant and normal. She was always w;inting her friends to put themselves into dramatic situations for her amusement, and she considered it selfish if they did not. She and Percy were old friends, and she stated her view very clearly to him. " It would be very striking if you came, Percy," she said ; "and it is most disappointing of you not to. What reason can you have ? You have quite got over it, and you ought to show the world that you have. Why don't you come ? " Percy sat up with a twinkle in his eye. " I might be a professional beauty ' ' he said, " and you a rising photographer. You are always want- ing to pose one." " Don't be rude ; it doesn't suit you. Why don't you come ? " " I hate traveling on Bank Holiday, " said Percy feebly. "Tuesday after Easter is not Bank Holiday," said Mrs. Montgomery rather triumphantly. " The Monday is." "Oh, but it's lyeap Year," sai(' Percy, "and that throws Bank Holiday one day further on." "Well, if you won't come, you won't" said she. "And you'll have to entertain the Stoakleys if they get here before I am back. There are some people, " she continued meditatively, "who always get every- where rather before the time they are expected." "Then I'll expect tliem to lunch," said Percy. "If so, they will be here by one." was always nto dramatic considered it cy were old jarly to him. ame, Percy," g of you not u have quite e world that ^e. le said, " and ilways want- Why don't " said Percy c Holiday," itly. " The ^ "and that .n." t" said she. ileys if they >me people," 'S get every- 'cpected." c'.id Percy. T/te Money Market. 259 "I know what you mean," said he, "but I don't think It is characteristic of the Stoakleys—of whi'ch of them, for instance ? ' ' ^^ ''Of Blanche, certainly," said Mrs. Montgomery, though she only does so mentally. Slie always is rather quicker than one expects. She is so pretty that one expects her to be stupid, which she is not. " "No, she certainly is not stupid." Mrs. Montgomery paused. Perhaps Percv was not going to disappoint her after all. The profes- sional beauty was posing of its own accord. " I wish you liked her a little more," she said at length. "Why?" " Because you might marry her, perhaps." Percy shut his book-it was not on the subject of Art— with a bang. "Don't you think I like her enough for that?" he asked. " Really, Percy, how you startle me. I hate the young generation. They are always chucking sur- prises about like schoolboys snowballing. How much you like her is a matter for yourself to decide." ' ' I decided long ago. It was a good thing I didn't tell you, as you so dislike surprises." "Do you mean you are going to propose to her ? ' Percy looked at her with most irritating deliber- ation. 260 The Money Market. *r- t *' I think you ask more questions than any one I ever saw," he said. " I certainly receive fewer answers from you than from anyone I ever saw, " retorted Mrs. Mont- gomery. '* But I am delighted. Oh ! I see, that is the reason why you will not come to the wedding. Pray accept a blessing, ls Miss Flite said." *'It was very kind of Miss Flite," said Percy lazily. " It was more than you deserved," said she. " But I forgive you. She and hei mother are both coming ; he is not. What do you suppose I^ady Stoakley will say to it ? " "Will say to what?" asked Percy, composedly. '* To your proposing to Blanche. How tiresome you are." " I don't know. I haven't asked her." ' ' Doesn't it interest you ? " " Immensely. But I give you warning ; I am not going to answer any more questions." " That will be very rude of you, then." Percy laughed. "I like being rude to you, Mrs. Montgomery," he said, " because I like to see how very little effect it has on you. You certainly belong to the Pachy- derms." "Who are the Pachyderms?" asked Mrs. Mont- gomery with dignity. " They are a very old family," said Percy, "and they have a tendency toward exploration, being im- The Money Market. 261 any one I from you ^rs. Mont- see, that is \ wedding. aid Percy she. "But li coming ; Stoakley iposedly. V tiresome ng ; I am tgomery," ittle eflfect he Pachy- [rs. Mont- rcy, ' ' aiid being im- pervious to cold. Hurrah ! here is tea. Do give me some tea quickly, because I'm going to fish afterwards till it gets dark." During the weeks that had passed since January, Percy and Blanche had seen a great deal of each other. They had both the e.iviable faculty of pick- ing up friendships exactly where they had left off, and neither had wasted any time about feeling their way back to their old intimacy. Blanche was a confirmed Wagnerite, and the two used to scour lyondon together for concerts. But by degrees a new complexion came over their friendship, though it did not blunt the camaraderie which had so long subsisted between them. There began to form in Percy's mind another image which occupied the niche from which Sybil's had vanished so suddenly, and day by day he chiselled at it till it stood com- plete. It only remained to fall down and wor- ship it. The Stoakleys arrived about tea-time next day, neither later nor earlier than it was reasonable to -expect them. It was a delicious spring evening, with a soft caressing air, and the inimitable sense of budding and growing things. Hawthorn and limes were already in leaf, and the other trees were hastening after them. It seemed that the aspect of the world grew more green every hour, that if one put one's ear to a tree-trunk one might hear the rush of the sap in the tingling boughs. lyady Stoakley went to her room after tea, leav- imi Vfi 'J< ? II.' 262 Tke Money Market. ing the others still out on the lawn. At Blanche's suggestion they wandered down to the riverside, and walked through the meadows thickly starred with daisies and buttercups. The sun was near to its setting, and had fired the thin clouds in the West with living rose. Thrushes threw their song abroad into the air with all the laviishness of mating time. I^eaves lisped in the cool shadow of trees, and the grasses were long round tlie strolling feet. The willows by the water were enintshed m a green net of leaves, and tlie beaudfui river swung on its way i'! great sheets of mirrored sky. They had passed througli the lawn and over the nearer fields in busy talk ; but here a silence fell. "Ah, it is spring!" said Percy, at length. "Spring, and the promise of all good t ings. I read the Song v>f Solomon last night, Blanche. Do you know it? ' For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone ; the flowers appear on the earth ; the time of the singing birds is come. ' They are singing ; they are singing in my heart. " Percy paused. " It has rung in my head all day, " he said ; "it seems to have been written for me. May I go on, Blanche?" Blanche raised her eyes to his, but did not speak. "'The fig tree putteth forth her green figs,'" said Percy very low, "'and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. my fair one, and come away. ' " "ise, my love. t Blanche's ; riverside, kly starred was near to In the West iong abroad ating time. ea, and the feet. The a green net on its way had passed Ids in busy The Money Market, 263 For a long moment they stood there silent ; then i ercy gently drew Blanche towards him, and kissed her. " ' My beloved is mine, ' " she whispered, " ' and I ajn his. ' " at length. f ings. I mche. Do st, the rain the earth ; They are i said ; "it ly I go on. not speak. !en figs, ' ' ' with the , my love,