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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Master of Deception, by Richard Marsh
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Master of Deception
+
+Author: Richard Marsh
+
+Illustrator: Dudley Tennant
+
+Release Date: November 28, 2011 [EBook #38161]
+[Last updated: September 16, 2014]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MASTER OF DECEPTION ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+   1. Page scan source:
+      http://books.google.com/books?id=gD4PAAAAQAAJ
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                        A MASTER OF DECEPTION
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "'You see, uncle--this one; as it were, death reduced
+to its lowest possible denomination'" (_see page_ 99).]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                               A MASTER
+
+                             OF DECEPTION
+
+
+
+
+                                  By
+
+                            Richard Marsh
+
+          Author of "Twin Sisters," "The Lovely Mrs. Blake,"
+                  "The Interrupted Kiss," etc., etc.
+
+
+
+
+                        With a Frontispiece by
+                            DUDLEY TENNANT
+
+
+
+
+                       CASSELL AND COMPANY, LTD
+               London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne
+                                 1913
+
+
+
+
+
+                               CONTENTS
+
+
+     CHAPTER
+
+      1. The Inclining of a Twig.
+
+      2. His Uncle And His Cousin.
+
+      3. Rodney Elmore the First.
+
+      4. The Three Girls and the Three Telegrams.
+
+      5. Stella.
+
+      6. Gladys.
+
+      7. Mary.
+
+      8. By The 9.10: The First Part of the Journey.
+
+      9. The Second.
+
+     10. In the Carriage--Alone.
+
+     11. The Stranger.
+
+     12. Marking Time.
+
+     13. Spreading His Wings.
+
+     14. Business First, Pleasure Afterwards.
+
+     15. Mabel Joyce.
+
+     16. Thomas Austin, Senior.
+
+     17. The Acting Head of the Firm.
+
+     18. The Perfect Lover.
+
+     19. The Few Words at the End of the Evening.
+
+     20. The First Line of an Old Song.
+
+     21. The Dead Man's Letter.
+
+     22. Philip Walter Augustus Parker.
+
+     23. Necessary Credentials.
+
+     24. Lovers Parting.
+
+     25. Stella's Betrothal Feast.
+
+     26. Good Night.
+
+     27. The Gentleman's Departure and the Lady's Explanation.
+
+     28. A Conspiracy of Silence.
+
+
+
+
+                        A MASTER OF DECEPTION
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER I
+
+                       THE INCLINING OF A TWIG
+
+
+When Rodney Elmore was eleven years old, placards appeared on the
+walls announcing that a circus was coming to Uffham. Rodney asked his
+mother if he might go to it. Mrs. Elmore, for what appeared to her to
+be sufficient reasons, said "No." Three days before the circus was to
+come he went with his mother to Mrs. Bray's house, a little way out of
+Uffham, to tea. The two ladies having feminine mysteries to discuss,
+he was told to go into the garden to play. As he went he passed a
+little room, the door of which was open. Peeping in, as curious
+children will, something on a corner of the mantelpiece caught his
+eye. Going closer to see what it was, he discovered that there were
+two half-crowns, one on the top of the other. The desire to go to the
+circus, which had never left him, gathered sudden force. Here were the
+means of going. Whipping the two coins into the pocket of his
+knickerbockers, he ran from the room and into the garden.
+
+During the remainder of the afternoon the half-crowns were a burden to
+him. Not because he was weighed down by a sense of guilt; but because
+he feared that their absence would be discovered; that they would be
+taken from him; that he would be left poor indeed. He kept down at the
+far end of the garden, considering if it would not be wiser to conceal
+them in some spot from which he would be able to retrieve them at the
+proper time. But Mrs. Bray's was at, what to him was, a great distance
+from his own home; he might not be able to get there again before the
+eventful day. When the maid came to fetch him in the coins were still
+in his pocket; they were still there when he left the house with his
+mother.
+
+On the eventful day his mother had to go to London. Before she went
+she told Rodney that she had given the servant money to take him to
+the circus. This was rather a blow to the boy, since he found himself
+possessed of money which, for its intended purpose, was useless. He
+had hidden the half-crowns up the chimney in his bedroom. Aware that
+it might not be easy to explain how he came to be the owner of so much
+cash, there they remained for quite a time. So far as he knew, nothing
+was said by Mrs. Bray about the money which had gone; certainly no
+suspicion attached to him.
+
+Later he went to a public school. During the third term he went with
+the school bicycle club for a spin. The master in charge had a spill.
+As he fell some coins dropped out of his pocket. Rodney, who was the
+only one behind him, saw a yellow coin roll into a rut at the side of
+the road. Alighting, he pressed his foot on it, so that it was covered
+with earth. Then, calling to the others, who, unconscious of what had
+happened, were pedalling away in front, he gave first aid to the
+injured. The master had fallen heavily on his side. He had sprained
+something which made it difficult for him to move. A vehicle was
+fetched, which bore him back to school, recovery having first been
+made of the coins which had been dropped. It was only later he
+discovered that a sovereign was missing. The following day a
+search-party went out to look for it, of which Rodney Elmore was a
+member. They found nothing. As they were starting back Rodney
+perceived that his saddle had worked loose. He stayed behind to
+tighten it. When he spurted after the others the sovereign was in his
+pocket. Mr. Griffiths was reputed to be poor. It was Elmore who
+suggested that a subscription should be started to reimburse him for
+his loss. When Mr. Griffiths heard of the suggestion--while he
+laughingly declined to avail himself of the boy's generosity--he took
+Elmore's hand in a friendly grip. Then he asked the lad if he would
+oblige him by going on an errand to the village. While he was on the
+errand Rodney changed the sovereign, which he would have found it
+difficult to do in the school.
+
+At the end of the summer term in his last year Elmore was invited by a
+schoolboy friend named Austin to spend part of the holidays with him
+in a wherry on the Broads. Mrs. Elmore told him that she would pay his
+fare and give him, besides, a small specified sum which she said would
+be sufficient for necessary expenses. Her ideas on that latter point
+were not those of her son. Rodney's notions on such subjects were
+always liberal. Good at books and games, he was one of the most
+popular boys in the school. Among other things, he was captain of
+cricket. At the last match of the season he played even unusually
+well, carrying his bat through the innings with nearly two hundred
+runs to his credit, having given one of the finest displays of hard
+hitting and good placing the school had ever seen. He was the hero of
+the day; owing to his efforts his side had won. Flushed with victory,
+with the plaudits of his admirers still ringing in his ears, he
+strolled along a corridor, cricket-bag in hand. He passed a room, the
+door of which was open. A room with an open door was apt to have a
+fatal fascination for Rodney Elmore; if opportunity offered, he could
+seldom refrain from peeping in. He peeped in then. On a table was a
+canvas bag, tied with a string. He recognised it as the bag which
+contained the tuck-shop takings. Since the tuck-shop had had a busy
+day, the probability was that the bag held quite a considerable sum.
+He had been wondering where the money was coming from to enable him to
+cut a becoming figure during his visit to Austin. Stepping quickly
+into the room, he emptied the canvas bag into his cricket-bag; then,
+going out again as quickly as he had entered, he continued his
+progress.
+
+He was on his way to one of the masters, named Rumsey, who edited the
+school magazine, his object being to hand him a corrected proof of
+certain matter which was to appear in the forthcoming issue. He took
+the proof out of his cricket-bag, which he opened in the master's
+presence. Having stayed to have a chat, he returned with Mr. Rumsey
+along the corridor. As they went they saw one of the school pages come
+hurriedly out of the room in which, as Rodney was aware, there was an
+empty canvas bag. Mr. Rumsey commented on the speed at which the youth
+was travelling.
+
+"Isn't that young Wheeler? He seems in a hurry. I wish he would always
+move as fast."
+
+"Perhaps he's tearing off on an errand for Mr. Taylor."
+
+As he said this Rodney carelessly swung his cricket-bag, being well
+aware that the coins within were so mixed up with his sweater, pads,
+gloves, and other accessories that they were not likely to make their
+presence audible. At the end of the corridor they encountered Mr.
+Taylor himself. Mark Taylor was fourth form master and manager of the
+tuck-shop. Nodding, he went quickly on. Mr. Rumsey was going one way,
+Rodney the other. They lingered at the corner to exchange a few
+parting words. Suddenly Mr. Taylor's voice came towards them down the
+corridor.
+
+"Rumsey! Elmore! Who's been in my room?"
+
+"Been in your room?" echoed Mr. Rumsey. "How should I know?" Then
+added, as if it were the result of a second thought: "We just saw
+Wheeler come out."
+
+"Wheeler?" In his turn, Mr. Taylor played the part of echo. "He just
+came rushing past me; I wondered what his haste meant. You saw him
+come out of my room? Then---- But he can't have done a thing like
+that!"
+
+"Like what? Anything wrong?"
+
+"There seems to be something very much wrong. Do you mind coming
+here?"
+
+Retracing their steps, Mr. Rumsey and Elmore joined the agitated Mr.
+Taylor in his room. He made clear to them the cause of his agitation.
+
+"You see this bag? It contained to-day's tuck-shop takings--more than
+ten pounds. I left it, with the money tied up in it, on the table here
+while I went to Perrin to fetch a memorandum I'd forgotten. Now that
+I've returned, I find the bag lying on my table empty and the money
+apparently gone. That's what's wrong, and the question is, who has
+been in my room since I left it?"
+
+"As I told you, Elmore and I just saw Wheeler making his exit rather
+as if he were pressed for time."
+
+"And I myself just met him scurrying along, and wondered what the
+haste was about; he's not, as a general rule, the fastest of the
+pages. The boy has a bad record; there was that story about Burge
+minor and his journey money, and there have been other tales. If he
+was in my room----"
+
+"Perhaps he was sent on an errand to you."
+
+"I doubt it, from the way he was running when I met him. And, so far
+from stopping when he saw me, if anything, he went faster than ever.
+It looks very much as if----"
+
+He stopped, leaving the sentence ominously unfinished.
+
+"Master Wheeler may be a young rip, but surely he wouldn't do a thing
+like that."
+
+This was Rodney, who notoriously never spoke ill of anyone. Mr. Taylor
+touched on his well-known propensity.
+
+"That's all very well, Elmore; but you'd try to find an excuse for a
+man who snatched the coat off your back. This is a very serious
+matter; ten pounds are ten pounds. The best thing is for you to bring
+Wheeler here, and we'll have it out with him at once."
+
+Rodney started off to fetch the page. It was some little time before
+he returned. When he did he was without his cricket-bag, and gripped
+the obviously unwilling page tightly by the shoulder. That the lad's
+mind was very far from being at ease Mr. Taylor's questions quickly
+made plain.
+
+"Wheeler, Mr. Rumsey and Mr. Elmore just saw you coming out of my
+room. What were you doing here?"
+
+Wheeler, looking everywhere but at his questioner, hesitated; then
+stammered out a lame reply.
+
+"I--I was looking for you, sir."
+
+"For me? What did you want with me? Why did you not say you wanted me
+when you met me just now?"
+
+Wheeler could not explain; he was tongue-tied. Mr. Taylor went on:
+
+"When I went I left this bag on the table full of money. As you were
+the only person who entered the room during my absence, I want you to
+tell me how the bag came to be empty when I returned?"
+
+"The bag was empty when I came in here," blurted out Wheeler. "I
+particularly noticed."
+
+To that tale he stuck--that the bag was empty when he entered the
+room. His was a lame story. It seemed clear that he had gone into
+the room with intentions which were not all that they might have
+been--possibly meaning to pilfer from the bag, which he knew was
+there. The discovery that the bag was empty had come upon him with a
+shock; he had fled. As was not altogether unnatural, his story was not
+believed. The two masters accused him point-blank of having emptied
+the bag himself. A formal charge of theft would have been made against
+him had it not been for his tender years, also partly because of the
+resultant scandal, perhaps still more because not a farthing of the
+money was ever traced to his possession, or, indeed, to anyone else's.
+What had become of it was never made clear. Wheeler, however, was
+dismissed from his employment with a stain upon his character which he
+would find it hard to erase.
+
+Rodney Elmore had an excellent time upon the Broads, towards which the
+tuck-shop takings, in a measure, contributed. The Austins, who were
+well-to-do people, had a first-rate wherry; on it was a lively party.
+There were two girls--Stella Austin, Tom Austin's sister, and a friend
+of hers, Mary Carmichael. Elmore, who was nearly nineteen, had already
+had more than one passage with persons of the opposite sex. He had a
+curious facility in gaining the good graces of feminine creatures of
+all kinds and all ages. When he went he left Stella Austin under the
+impression that he cared for her very much indeed; while, although
+conscious that Tom Austin, believing himself to be in love with Mary
+Carmichael, regarded her as his own property, he was aware that the
+young lady liked him--Rodney Elmore--in a sense of which his friend
+had not the vaguest notion. Altogether his visit to the Austins was an
+entire success; he had won for himself a niche in everyone's esteem
+before they parted.
+
+When he was twenty Rodney Elmore entered an uncle's office in St.
+Paul's Churchyard. Soon after he was twenty-one his mother died. On
+her deathbed she showed an anxiety for his future which, under other
+circumstances, he would have found almost amusing.
+
+"Rodney," she implored him, "my son, my dear, dear boy, promise me
+that you will keep honest; that, under no pressure of circumstances,
+you will stray one hair's breadth from the path of honesty."
+
+This, in substance, though in varying forms, was the petition which
+she made to him again and again, in tones which, as the days, and even
+the hours, went by, grew fainter and fainter. He did his best to give
+her the assurance she required, smilingly at first, more seriously
+when he perceived how much she was in earnest.
+
+"Mother, darling," he told her, "I promise that I'll keep as straight
+as a man can keep. I'll never do anything for which you could be
+ashamed of me. Have you ever been ashamed of me?"
+
+"No, dear, never. You've always been the best, cleverest, truest, most
+affectionate son a woman could have. Never once have you given me a
+moment's anxiety. God keep you as you have always been--above all, God
+keep you honest."
+
+"Mother," he said in earnest tones, which had nearly sunk to a
+whisper, "God helping me, and He will help me, I swear to you that I
+will never do a dishonest thing, never! Nor a thing that is in the
+region of dishonesty. Don't you believe me, darling?"
+
+"Of course, dear, I believe you--I do! I do!"
+
+It was with some such words on her lips that she died; yet, even as
+she uttered them, he had a feeling that there was a look in her eyes
+which suggested both fear and doubt. In the midst of his heart-broken
+grief the fact that there should have been such a look struck him as
+good.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER II
+
+                       HIS UNCLE AND HIS COUSIN
+
+
+Mrs. Elmore's income died with her. She had sunk her money in an
+annuity because, as she had explained to Rodney, that enabled her to
+give him a much better education than she could have done had they
+been constrained to live on the interest produced by her slender
+capital. But her son was not left penniless. She had bought him an
+annuity, to commence when he was twenty-one, of thirty shillings a
+week, to be paid weekly, and had tied it up in such a way that he
+could neither forestall it nor use it as a security on which to borrow
+money. As clerk to his uncle he received one hundred pounds a year.
+Feeling that he could no longer reside in Uffham, he sold the house,
+which was his mother's freehold, and its contents, the sale producing
+quite a comfortable sum. So, on the whole, he was not so badly off as
+some young men.
+
+On the contra side he had expensive tastes, practically in every
+direction. Among other things, he had a partiality for feminine
+society, mostly of the reputable sort; but a young man is apt to find
+the society of even a nice girl an expensive luxury. For instance,
+Mary Carmichael had a voice. Her fond parents, who lived in the
+country, suffered her to live in town while she was taking singing
+lessons. Tom Austin, although still an undergraduate at Oxford, made
+no secret of his feelings for the maiden, a fact which did not prevent
+Mary going out now and then with Rodney Elmore to dinner at a
+restaurant, and, afterwards, to a theatre, as, nowadays, young men and
+maidens do. On these occasions Rodney paid, and where the evening's
+entertainment of a modern maiden is concerned a five-pound note does
+not go far. Then, although Miss Carmichael might not have been aware
+of it, there were others. Among them Stella Austin, who had reasons of
+her own for believing that Mr. Elmore would give the world to make her
+his wife, being only kept from avowing his feelings by the fact that
+he was, to all intents and purposes, a pauper. Since she was the
+possessor of three or four hundred a year of her own, with the
+prospect of much more, she tried more than once to hint that, since
+she would not mind setting up housekeeping on quite a small income,
+there was no reason why they should wait an indefinite period, till
+Rodney was a millionaire. But Rodney's delicacy was superfine. While
+he commended her attitude with an ardour which made the blood grow hot
+in her veins, he explained that he was one of those men who would not
+ask a girl to marry him unless he was in a position to keep her in the
+style a husband should, adding that that time was not so distant as
+some people might think. In another twelve months he hoped--well, he
+hoped! As at such moments she was apt to be very close to him, Stella
+hoped too.
+
+The young gentleman was living at the rate of at least five or six
+hundred a year on an income of a hundred and eighty. He did not bother
+himself by keeping books, but he quite realised that his expenditure
+bore no relation to his actual income. Of course, he owed money; but
+he did not like owing money. It was against his principles. He never
+borrowed if he could help it, and he objected to being at the mercy of
+a tradesman. He preferred to get the money somehow, and pay; and,
+somehow, he got it. Very curious methods that "somehow" sometimes
+covered. He was fond of cards; liked to play for all sorts of stakes;
+and, on the whole, he won. His skill in one so young was singular;
+sometimes, when opportunity offered, it was shown in directions at
+which one prefers only to hint. His favourite games were bridge,
+piquet, poker, and baccarat, four games at which a skilful player can
+do strange things, especially when playing with unsuspicious young men
+who have looked upon the wine when it was red.
+
+Rodney's dexterity with his fingers was almost uncanny. He could do
+wonderful card tricks, though he never did them in public, but only
+for his own private amusement. When reading "Oliver Twist," he had
+been tickled by the scene in which Fagin teaches his youthful pupils
+how to pick a pocket. He had made experiments of his own in the same
+direction upon parties who were not in the least aware of the
+experiments he was making. His success amused him hugely, while the
+subjects of his experiments never had the dimmest notion as to how or
+where their valuables had gone.
+
+In very many ways Rodney Elmore obtained sufficient money to enable
+him to keep his credit at a surprisingly high standard. Everyone spoke
+well of him; he was a general favourite. Nor was it strange; he looked
+a likeable fellow--indeed, ninety-nine people out of a hundred liked
+him at first sight. Over six feet in height, slightly built, he did
+not look so strong as he was in reality. Straight as an arrow, head
+held well up, there was something almost feminine in the lightness
+with which he seemed to move. Many girls and women had told him to his
+face that he was the best dancer they had ever had for partner.
+Indeed, in a sense, he flattered his partners, having a knack of
+making a girl who danced badly think she danced well. He had light
+brown hair, which seemed as if it had been dusted with golden sand;
+grey eyes, which, with the pleasantest expression, looked you right in
+the face; an Englishman's clear skin; mobile lips, which parted on the
+slightest pretext in a sunny smile; just enough moustache to shade his
+upper lip. Altogether as agreeable looking a young gentleman as one
+might hope to meet. And his manners bore out the promise of his
+appearance. Always cool, easy, self-possessed, ready to perform little
+services for women, the aged, the infirm, in a fashion which, so far
+as our present-day young men are concerned, is a little out of date.
+With the pleasantest voice and trick of speech, no chatterer, it
+seemed impossible for him to say a disagreeable or an unkind thing
+either to or of anyone. It was a standing joke among his intimates
+that, when scandal-mongering was in the air, Elmore would spoil the
+fun by pointing out the good qualities of those attacked and refusing
+to see anything else but them. He had ever an excuse to offer for the
+most notorious sinner. It was not wonderful that everybody liked him.
+On his part, he seemed incapable of disliking anyone. He might rob his
+friend of all that he had, but he would not regard him as less his
+friend on that account.
+
+To this rule, so far as he knew, there was only one exception, and as
+time went on this exception surprised him more and more. There was
+only one person who he felt sure disliked him, and why he disliked him
+was beyond his comprehension. This person was the uncle in whose
+office he was a clerk--Graham Patterson. Mr. Patterson was Mrs.
+Elmore's brother. Rodney quite understood that his uncle had not
+offered him the position he held, but had only received him at his
+mother's particular request. There had been that in his uncle's manner
+which had struck him as peculiar from the first, as if he were
+prejudiced against him before they met, regarding him with suspicion
+and dislike. As, for some reason which he would have liked to have had
+explained, he had never seen his uncle till he entered his office, his
+relative's attitude struck him as distinctly odd; but, in his
+light-hearted way, he told himself that he would gain his uncle's
+esteem before they had been acquainted long. However, they had been
+acquainted now nearly three years, and he was conscious that his uncle
+esteemed him as little as ever. He wondered why.
+
+Mr. Patterson's appearance was against him; he was big and bloated. A
+City merchant of the old school, he was addicted to the pleasures of
+the table and fond--for one of his habit of body unduly fond--of what
+he called a "glass of wine." He liked half a pint of port with his
+luncheon and a pint for his dinner, he being just the kind of person
+who never ought to have touched port at all. Nor, when his health
+permitted, was his daily allowance of stimulants by any means confined
+to his pint and a half of port. The result was that he suffered both
+in mind and body. The "governor's temper" was a byword in the office.
+When, to use his own phrase, he was "a little below par" he would fly
+into such fits of passion about the merest trivialities that those
+about him used to regard his "paddies" as part of the daily routine;
+so soon as he was out of his "paddy" he had forgotten all about it.
+
+Although his methods were a little old-fashioned, he was still an
+excellent man of business. The staple of his trade was silk, but
+latterly he had added other lines. In these days of shoddy the quality
+of his goods was above suspicion; he did a remunerative trade in
+everything he touched. In the trade no man's commercial integrity
+stood higher than Graham Patterson's; whoever dealt with him could be
+sure that everything would be all right. His books showed every year a
+comfortable turnover at fair rates of profit. There were those in his
+employ who were of opinion that if only a younger and more pushing man
+could have a voice in the management of affairs, the business might
+rapidly become one of the finest in the city of London.
+
+Rodney Elmore had not been long in his uncle's office before this
+opinion became emphatically his. He was conscious of commercial
+abilities of the most unusual kind, and was convinced that if he could
+only get a chance he would double both the turnover and the profits in
+so short a space of time that his uncle could not fail to be
+gratified. Since he was the nephew of his uncle, and, indeed, his only
+male relative, he did not see why he should not have a chance. When he
+first went to St. Paul's Churchyard he had hopes, but these hopes had
+grown dimmer. His perceptions on such matters were keen; few persons,
+no matter what their age, could see farther into a brick wall than he.
+He felt certain that his uncle only kept him at all because Mrs.
+Elmore had wrung from him a promise that he should have a place, of
+sorts, in his office. So far from having an eye to his nephew's
+advancement, it seemed to Rodney that his uncle even went out of his
+way to let him have as little as possible to do with the conduct of
+his business. It was true that he had a room for his separate use,
+and, though it was but a tiny one, on this foundation, at the
+beginning, he built much. But before long he understood that what he
+had reared were castles in the air. It seemed to Rodney before long
+that it must have been Mr. Patterson's intention to keep him apart
+from the others in order that he might know nothing of what was going
+on. His own work was of the simplest clerical kind; occasionally he
+was sent on an errand of no importance. He seemed free to come when he
+liked, and leave when he chose; nobody appeared to care what he did,
+or left undone. For these onerous labours he had been paid the first
+year eighty pounds, the second a hundred, then a hundred and twenty;
+now, after three years, he wondered what was going to happen next.
+Obviously an office boy could do what he had to do for five shillings
+a week.
+
+Under the circumstances, the fact that he had acquired such an insight
+into the ins and outs, the pros and cons, of his uncle's business
+transactions spoke volumes for his keenness and acumen. He often
+smiled to himself as he pictured the expression which would come on
+his uncle's rubicund countenance if he guessed what an intimate
+knowledge his office boy had of his affairs. Rodney was perfectly
+aware that the expression would not be one of pleasure; that his
+knowledge would not be regarded as the fruit of promising zeal, but as
+something which could only be adequately described by a flood of
+uncomplimentary adjectives. What was at the back of Graham Patterson's
+mind the young man, with all his shrewdness, had still no notion. He
+was one of the few men he had met who puzzled him. But of this much he
+was clear--that, while for his sister's sake Mr. Patterson was willing
+that his nephew should have a seat in his office, the less active
+interest the young man took in the duties he was, presumably, paid to
+perform the better pleased his employer would be. Elmore was of a
+hopeful disposition, willing to persevere if he saw even a remote
+chance of ultimate gain. But so convinced was he that his uncle, if he
+could help it, would never, on his own initiative, advance him to a
+position of trust that, before this, he would have cast about for a
+chance of improving his prospects--had it not been for a young lady.
+
+He had already been more than two years in his uncle's employment, and
+was meditating leaving it at a very early date, when one afternoon,
+Mr. Patterson being out, he heard an unknown feminine voice speaking
+in the outer office, and unexpectedly the door of his own den was
+opened, and someone entered--a girl. Slipping the papers he was
+assiduously studying into his desk with lightning-like rapidity, he
+rose to greet her.
+
+"Are you Rodney Elmore?" He smilingly owned that he was. "Then you're
+my cousin. How are you?"
+
+His cousin? He did not know that he had such a relative in the world.
+She held out her hand. Almost before he knew it he had it in his;
+whether willingly or not, she left it in his quite an appreciable
+space of time. He admitted his ignorance.
+
+"I didn't know I had such a delightful thing as a cousin."
+
+"Isn't that queer? I didn't till the other day. I'm Gladys Patterson;
+your uncle's my father."
+
+For once in his life Rodney was taken by surprise. His researches into
+his uncle's affairs had been confined to their commercial side. He
+knew practically nothing of his private life. He had never heard
+it spoken of, and had asked no questions. He had a vague idea
+that his uncle was a bachelor. He knew that he lived in rooms,
+and--accidentally--had learnt that he had relations with certain
+ladies of a kind which one does not associate with a family man. That
+he had ever had a wife and, still less, a daughter he had never
+guessed. Even in the midst of his surprise he reproached himself for
+his stupidity that such an important point should have escaped him! As
+he regarded the girl in front of him he perceived that she was her
+father's child.
+
+She was about his height, he being short and fat. One day, if
+appearances were not misleading, she also would be plump. Already she
+had something of her father's rubicund countenance; her cheeks were
+red, even a trifle blotchy. She had dark hair and eyes, both her mouth
+and nose were a little too big. Yet he did not find her disagreeable
+to look at. On the contrary, there was something about her which
+appealed to him, just as he was conscious that there was something
+about him which appealed to her. Where a girl was concerned it was
+strange how some subtle instinct told him these things. He was moved
+to audacity.
+
+"If you're my cousin, oughtn't I to kiss you?"
+
+Her eyes lit up. Her lips parted, showing her beautiful teeth; if they
+were a little large, they were very white and even.
+
+"As I've had no experience of cousins, how can I say?"
+
+"I shouldn't like you to feel that I'm beginning by evading what, for
+aught either of us can tell, might be my duty."
+
+Stooping, he kissed her on the mouth. Though it was little more than a
+butterfly's kiss, her lips seemed to meet his with a gentle pressure
+which he found agreeable.
+
+"You are a cousin!" she exclaimed.
+
+"I'm glad you are," he replied.
+
+"Didn't you really know you had a cousin?" He shook his head. "Nor I;
+isn't it queer? I only found it out the other day by the merest
+accident; in some respects dad is the most secretive person. I've been
+abroad for the last five years. How old do you think I am?"
+
+There was a frankness, a friendliness about this cousin which amused
+him. In that sense she could not have been more unlike her sire.
+
+"Twenty-two."
+
+"I'm twenty-five--isn't it awful? How old are you?"
+
+"I regret to say that I am only twenty-three. I'm afraid you'll regard
+me as only a kid."
+
+"Shall I? I don't think I shall. You don't look as if you were 'only a
+kid.' I've been what papa calls 'finishing my education.' Fancy! at my
+time of life! If my mother had been living I shouldn't have stood it;
+but, as you know, she died when I was only a tiny tot; and I knew
+dad--so I lay, comparatively, low. I've been living here and there and
+everywhere with the queerest duennas, though they really have been
+dears; and now and then I have had a good time, though I've had some
+frightfully dull ones. But at last I have struck. You know we've got a
+house in Russell Square?" Again he shook his head. "What do you know?"
+
+"So far as you are concerned--nothing. I know that I'm clerk to my
+uncle, and that's all."
+
+"Well, we have got a house in Russell Square. It's been shut up all
+these years--papa's been living in rooms. But I've made him refurbish
+it, and he's made it really nice--when he does undertake to do a thing
+he does it well--and I'm installed in it as mistress. Of course, I
+know Russell Square's out of the way, but they are good houses, and,
+if I can only manage dad, I'm going to have a real good time."
+
+"Did he tell you about me?"
+
+"Not he. Don't I tell you that I only discovered your existence by the
+merest accident? Do you remember a boy named Henderson who was at
+school with you?"
+
+"Alfred Henderson--very well; we moved together from form to form."
+
+"I know his sister Cissie; we were at school together, years ago,
+and she knows you. She told me the other day that you were in your
+uncle's office in St. Paul's Churchyard, and that his name was Graham
+Patterson, and was he any relation of mine. I nearly had a fit. When
+dad came home I bombarded him with questions---- What have you done to
+offend him?"
+
+"Nothing of which I'm conscious. Ever since I've been in the office
+I've been aware that he dislikes me, though I assure you that I've
+done my best to please him and give him no cause of complaint."
+
+"Well, he does not like you, and that's a fact. He as good as forbade
+me to make your acquaintance; but, as he wouldn't give any reasons, I
+decided to find out for myself what sort of person you were, and--then
+be guided by circumstances. The truth is, I've had enough of obeying
+dad, and that's another fact. If I'm not careful I shall end my days
+in a convent, and the conventual life has not the slightest attraction
+for me. I've got a will of my own, and when a girl is twenty-five it's
+about time that she should let such a very unreasonable parent as mine
+seems to be know it. I'm sure Cissie Henderson is a girl who knows
+what she is talking about, and as she said all sorts of nice things
+about you, and nothing else but nice things, I made up my mind that,
+since I had a cousin, I'd find out for myself what kind of cousin my
+cousin was. There is dad. Now you see how I manage him."
+
+A heavy step and a loud voice were heard without; then the door was
+thrown back upon its hinges.
+
+"Gladys! What does this mean?"
+
+"I've come to see my cousin, dad, as I told you I should do."
+
+"Come into my room."
+
+"Directly, dad. I want Rodney to come and dine with us to-night."
+
+Her father perceptibly winced at his daughter's use of the Christian
+name.
+
+"To-night? Impossible! I'm engaged."
+
+"Are you? Then in that case he can come and keep me company while you
+are out. We ought to have heaps of things to say to each other. Do you
+mind?"
+
+The question was put to Elmore. Mr. Patterson glared.
+
+"Gladys, I want you to come with me to the theatre to-night."
+
+"My dear dad, this is the first time I've heard of it--and, if you
+don't mind, I'd much rather not. One can go to the theatre any night,
+but one can't discover that one has a cousin, and meet him for the
+first time, every day. I'd much rather Rodney would come to dine.
+Won't you?"
+
+Again the question was put to Elmore.
+
+"I'd be very glad to come--with Mr. Patterson's permission."
+
+"You hear, dad? He'll come, with your permission. Nothing would please
+you more than that he should come, would it?"
+
+The father looked into the daughter's eyes, seeming to see something
+in them which kept him from uttering words which were at the tip of
+his tongue. He spoke gruffly.
+
+"Perhaps he has an engagement."
+
+"Have you?"
+
+"Not any."
+
+"And if you had, you'd throw it over to dine with us, wouldn't you?"
+
+"I certainly would."
+
+"You see, papa, what a compliment he pays you. Come, since it seems
+that he doesn't regard my invitation as sufficient, will you please
+ask him to dine with us to-night?"
+
+Again the father eyed his daughter. The observant youth, as he glanced
+from one to the other, was struck by the unmistakable evidence that
+this young woman was her father's child. He did not doubt that she had
+more than a touch of the paternal temper. He saw that Mr. Patterson,
+fearful of an exhibition of it then and there, as the lesser of two
+evils, yielded, not gracefully.
+
+"He can come if he likes."
+
+"Thank you, papa. You haven't a very pretty way--has he?--but as my
+invitation couldn't possibly be warmer, I'm sure you'll regard dad's
+endorsement as more than sufficient. So you will come?"
+
+"I shall be only too delighted."
+
+"Now, then, Gladys, come to my room. I want to speak to you."
+
+"Coming, dad. Remember, Rodney, our address is 90, Russell Square, and
+we dine at eight; but if you come any time after half-past seven
+you'll find me ready. You can't think how dad and I will look forward
+to your coming."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER III
+
+                       RODNEY ELMORE THE FIRST
+
+
+That was a curious dinner party. Elmore quite expected that when he
+had rid himself of his daughter his uncle would come and tell him that
+he was not to regard the invitation as having been seriously intended,
+and that he was not to present himself in Russell Square. But nothing
+of the sort occurred. He saw and heard no more of Mr. Patterson until
+he quitted the office, and just before a quarter to eight he entered
+the drawing-room at No. 90. Miss Patterson, who was its sole occupant,
+rose as he entered.
+
+"It's very good of you," she said, while she continued to allow her
+hand to remain in his, "to take the hint, and come early. Dad never
+shows till dinner's served, so that I shall have a chance of finding
+out before he comes what is the meaning of the extraordinary attitude
+he is taking up towards you. He simply poses as the father who has got
+to be obeyed, and as that sort of thing appears to be ridiculous, as I
+ventured to tell him, I expect you to tell me all about it."
+
+He told her all he had to tell, which was very little, in such fashion
+that inside fifteen minutes they were on terms almost of intimacy. He
+was one of those men who have a natural attraction for contrasting
+types of women; emphatically for that type of which Gladys Patterson
+was an example. The master of the house did not enter till dinner was
+served, and by the time they were seated at table Elmore was already
+aware that his cousin offered a pleasant and promising field for such
+experiments as he might choose to devise.
+
+Conversation was almost entirely confined to the two younger members
+of the party, the initiative being taken by Gladys, Elmore acting as a
+sort of chorus. The meal was of the solid, plentiful, well-cooked
+order, which one felt would appeal to the host. Beyond replying
+shortly to an occasional inquiry addressed to him by his daughter, Mr.
+Patterson's whole attention was given to his food, and wine. When
+dessert was on the table his daughter asked him:
+
+"Going out to-night, dad--as usual?"
+
+"No," he responded briefly, "I'm not."
+
+The young woman looked at her cousin with a twinkle in her eyes.
+
+"Dad follows the good old-fashioned custom of sitting over his wine.
+He thinks that a glass of port gives a proper finish to a meal. If you
+don't think so you can come into the drawing-room with me."
+
+"He'll stay here," observed the sire succinctly.
+
+But the damsel was equal to the occasion.
+
+"Very well, dad; then I'll stay too. And since this table really is
+too big for three, I think, Rodney, it would be more comfy if I were
+to bring my chair closer to yours. Are you fond of the theatre?"
+
+Having brought her chair to within a foot of Elmore's she entered with
+him into an animated discussion on the subject of favourite plays and
+players, while the host, practically speechless, sat at the head of
+his board drinking more port than was good for him. Elmore, who could
+be abstemious enough when he liked, had followed his cousin's lead,
+and drank nothing but mineral water. At last the young lady used his
+self-denial as a pivot to gain her own ends.
+
+"Really, dad, as Rodney won't join you in drinking, it's absurd our
+stopping here, especially as I want some music, so please, sir, will
+you come with me at once into the drawing-room?"
+
+Before the slow-witted host, whose brains had not been rendered more
+active by his libations, had awoke to the meaning of his daughter's
+proposition, she had borne the guest with her from the room. They were
+alone together in the drawing-room for more than half an hour. If the
+music of which Gladys had spoken was not much in evidence, their
+acquaintance moved at a rate which was only possible in the case of a
+young man who was willing--nay, eager--to take advantage of the
+peculiarities of a young woman's temperament. So that when his uncle
+did appear, with eyes a little dulled and feet a little unsteady,
+Rodney was quite ready to make his adieux and his cousin to excuse
+him.
+
+The acquaintance, thus commenced, not only continued, but advanced by
+leaps and bounds. Mr. Patterson's habits being those of a bachelor of
+a not too strait-laced kind rather than those of a family man, he did
+not find his daughter's society so congenial and satisfying as he
+might have done. Being desirous of doing as he liked, he left her with
+more freedom than he himself was perhaps aware of. She would even have
+not been without justification had she chosen to regard herself as
+neglected. But for what seemed to her to be sufficient reasons, she
+was content that her parent should amuse himself as he liked, though
+his doing so resulted in his practically overlooking her altogether.
+
+Rodney Elmore never went again to the house in Russell Square as his
+uncle's guest, but he went there more than once as his daughter's, and
+that sometimes at hours and under circumstances which were, to say the
+least, unconventional. More frequently their meetings were not in
+the neighbourhood of Bloomsbury. Mr. Patterson had a fondness for
+week-ending, without informing his daughter with whom he spent his
+time or where. It was not strange if, during such absences, his
+daughter did her best to avoid being too much alone. More than one
+such Sunday she and Rodney spent together from quite an early hour to
+quite a late one. Before long they were on terms which certainly could
+not have been more intimate had they been an engaged couple. But they
+were not, on that point they supposed that they understood each other
+thoroughly. Gladys had less than two hundred a year of her own, left
+her by her mother; and Rodney was pretty sure that if she married him
+her means would not be materially increased for many a day to come--if
+ever. He was by no means sure that he cared for her enough to marry
+her if all he got with her in marriage was her person; no one could be
+clearer than he was that she would not make the sort of wife who would
+be likely to be in any way whatever of assistance to a struggling
+husband. Her attitude was almost equally practical. That she liked him
+much more than he liked her was sure; there was hardly anything he
+could ask of her which she would not be willing to give. She believed
+in him much more than he believed in her; in her eyes he was nearly a
+hero. But, not being quite blind, she realised that, as things were,
+marriage for them was out of the question. She knew her father, and
+was aware that while up to a certain point she could do with him as
+she liked, if on a matter of capital importance he bade her not to do
+such and such a thing, and she did it, he would cut her as completely
+out of his life as if she had not been in it, and never miss her. She
+was conscious that she was as unfitted for love in a cottage as Elmore
+was; was, perhaps, even dimly alive to the fact that in such a
+position her plight would be worse than his was. So that their
+association was based on that quite up-to-date article of faith which
+sets forth that though a young man and a young woman can never be
+husband and wife, they may still be "pals."
+
+Elmore's position in the office was not improved by the incident of
+his having been a guest in Russell Square. Though his uncle never
+spoke to him upon the subject--nor, indeed, if he could help it, on
+any other--his nephew's acute perception realised that he had not
+grown to like him any more. As time went on a doubt began to grow up
+within him as to whether his uncle had not some inkling of the
+relations which existed between him and his daughter. That his doubt
+was well founded he was ultimately to learn. One morning, soon after
+his uncle's arrival, a request came to him to go to him at once in his
+room. When he went in he was struck, not by any means for the first
+time, by certain points about his uncle's appearance. He felt
+convinced that his relative's was not, from the insurance point of
+view, a good life. Rodney Elmore knew little of medicine, yet he
+hazarded a private opinion that Graham Patterson was a promising
+subject for an apoplectic stroke--the kind of man who, at any moment
+of undue stress, might have cerebral trouble from which he might not
+find it easy to recover. He caught himself wondering whether if, by
+any mischance, his uncle became the victim of such a catastrophe, it
+might not be worth his while to marry his cousin, if, indeed, that
+would not be the lady's own point of view. Were Graham Patterson to
+have such a stroke, it was at least within the range of possibility
+that he might never again be in a condition to manage his own affairs;
+in which case who would be so likely to be appointed administrator as
+the husband of his only child?
+
+While such gruesome imaginings occupied his mind, the subject of them
+continued to regard him with a stolid silence which at last struck him
+as singular.
+
+"I was told, sir, that you wished to speak to me."
+
+He said this with the little air of pleasant deference of which he was
+such a master and which became him so well. His uncle still said
+nothing, but continued to glare at him with his bloodshot eyes as if
+he were some strange object in an exhibition. He really looked so odd
+that Rodney began to wonder if that stroke was already in the air. He
+tried again to move him to speech.
+
+"I trust, sir, that nothing disagreeable has happened."
+
+Yet some seconds passed before his uncle did speak. When he did it was
+with a hard sort of ferocity which his listener felt accorded well
+with the singularity of his appearance.
+
+"You took my daughter to the Palace Theatre last night."
+
+Rodney wondered from whom he had learned the fact, being convinced
+that it was not from his daughter. However, since he could scarcely
+ask, he tried another line, one which he was conscious went close to
+the verge of insolence.
+
+"I hope, sir, that the Palace is not a theatre to which you object.
+Just now it has one of the best entertainments in London."
+
+Only in a very narrow sense could his uncle's response be regarded as
+a reply to his words.
+
+"You're an infernal young scoundrel!"
+
+Rodney did not attempt to feign resentment he did not feel. His
+quickly-moving wits told him that he was at last brought face to face
+with a position which he had for some time foreseen, and that for him
+the best attitude would probably be one of modest humility--at least,
+to begin with.
+
+"I don't think, sir, you are entitled to use such language to me on
+such slight grounds."
+
+"Don't you? You--you--beauty!"
+
+Obviously Mr. Patterson had substituted a different word for the one
+he had intended to use. Taking a slip of paper out of the drawer of
+the writing-table at which he was seated, he held it out towards
+Rodney.
+
+"You see that?"
+
+"I do, sir."
+
+"You know what it is?"
+
+"It appears to be a cheque."
+
+"You know what cheque it is."
+
+"If you will allow me to examine it more closely I shall perhaps be
+able to say."
+
+"You can examine it as closely as you please so long as it is in my
+hands. I wouldn't trust it in your hands for a good deal."
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+"You impudent young blackguard!"
+
+"And that, sir?"
+
+"I say it, you brazen young hypocrite, because that cheque happens to
+be a forgery, and you are the man who forged it."
+
+"Sir! I know that you are used to allow yourself a large license in
+the way of language, but this time, although you are my uncle, you go
+too far."
+
+"I intend to go much farther before I've done--and don't you throw the
+fact that I'm your uncle in my face, the most decent men have
+blackguards for relatives. This cheque was originally made out for
+eight pounds. I told you to ask young Metcalf to get cash for it.
+Between this room and Metcalf's desk you altered it to eighty pounds.
+It was easily done--especially by an expert like you. He brought you
+eighty pounds; you gave me eight, and kept seventy-two. You were aware
+that Metcalf was leaving the office that day to join his brother in
+Canada; you calculated that probably before the thing was discovered
+he would be on the high seas, and that, therefore, since everyone
+knew how much he was in want of cash, I should lay the guilt at his
+door--you dirty cur! But I didn't, never for one instant; the instant
+I saw the cheque I recognised your hand."
+
+"You recognised my hand? What do you mean by that, sir?"
+
+Mr. Patterson took something else out of his writing-table drawer,
+which, this time, he handed to his nephew.
+
+"Look at that."
+
+It was a portrait--the photograph of a man in the early prime of life.
+
+"Don't you think it might be yours?"
+
+Rodney felt that, allowing for the changes made by a few superimposed
+years, the resemblance to himself was striking, so striking that it
+was startling. The eyes looked at him out of the portrait with an
+expression which he recognised as so like his own that it bewildered
+him.
+
+"That's the portrait of your father. You don't remember him?"
+
+"Not at all."
+
+"I knew him all his life. You are so like what he was at your age that
+more than once when I have looked at you I have had an uncomfortable
+feeling that he had come back again to haunt me. Never was son more
+like his father, in all things."
+
+Rodney winced, scarcely knowing why. His uncle went on.
+
+"Your mother never spoke to you of him?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"She had what she supposed to be sufficient reasons for her reticence;
+she wished to hide from you, if possible, the knowledge of what manner
+of man your father was, thinking that the knowledge of the heritage of
+shame which he had left behind might drive you to walk in his
+footsteps. I was of a different opinion. I held that if you had in you
+any of the makings of a decent man, the knowledge of the sort of man
+your father was would serve you as a warning to keep off the path he'd
+followed. However, you were your mother's child, not mine, thank God;
+she had her way, though I warned her that the time would probably come
+when I should have to tell you the story she would rather have bitten
+off her tongue than tell."
+
+Mr. Patterson paused, keeping his eyes fixed on the young man in front
+of him. There was a quality in his gaze which made Rodney conscious of
+a sense of discomfort to which he had been hitherto a stranger.
+
+"You are so like your father that you even have his Christian name.
+Rodney Elmore the first was one of those creatures who sometimes come
+into the world, who could not run straight if they tried--and they
+never try. He was one of Nature's thieves; a born scamp; a lifelong
+blackguard. Your mother was my only sister; the only relative I had. I
+did not understand him so well before she married him as I did
+afterwards, but I understood him well enough to have kept her from
+marrying him if I could. But he was one of those hounds who, if they
+cannot get what they want by fair means, will not hesitate to get it
+by foul; he even won his wife by foul means, taking advantage of her
+girlish innocence so that she had to become his wife to save her good
+name. She lived for six years with him in hell. Then he was detected
+in a series of frauds which would probably have resulted in his being
+sent to penal servitude for life. Rather than face the music, he
+committed suicide."
+
+Again Mr. Patterson paused, and his nephew, on his side, kept still.
+It seemed to him that his uncle's voice was the voice of doom; he was
+aware of a sensation of actual physical pain as he listened, as if
+sentence had not only been pronounced, but punishment also begun. He
+had wondered vaguely more than once what manner of man his father was,
+and, since she had volunteered no information, had put questions on
+the subject to his mother. But she had staved them off in a fashion
+which suggested--since even in the days of his boyhood his mental
+processes were sufficiently acute--that there was not much to be told
+about him which redounded to his credit. So, as years brought wisdom,
+his curiosity became less and less; a feeling grew up in his bosom
+that perhaps the less he knew about his father the better it might be.
+Never, however, had his most pessimistic imaginings come near the
+reality as portrayed by his uncle. He, the son of a lifelong rogue,
+who had only escaped the penalty of his misdeeds by self-destruction!
+He began to apprehend the meaning of the attitude his uncle had taken
+up towards him. His uncle did his best to assist him to a clearer
+comprehension.
+
+"I never would have anything to do with you. I had suffered too much
+from your father to be willing by any overt act to acknowledge your
+existence, especially as a relative of mine. I resented your
+existence. I am not more superstitious than the average man, but I had
+a strong conviction that with you it would be a case of like father
+like son. The paternal qualities were too strong, too ingrained, too
+much the very essence of his being not to be transmitted. When your
+mother came and begged me to take you into my office I asked her
+point-blank if you were not your father's son. She denied it. I
+believed then that she lied; now I know it. I have no doubt that she
+had detected you over and over again in acts which recalled your
+father."
+
+Rodney wondered if that really was the case. She had never hinted
+anything of the sort to him. He understood now why, with her dying
+breath, she had entreated him to be honest. Did she realise at the
+very portals of death what a broken reed his promise was? He shivered
+at the thought.
+
+"So soon as you came into this office I knew that I had been right,
+and that you were every inch your father's son. You are clever; don't
+suppose that I don't appreciate the fact. I am not so clever, which
+fact you have taken rather too much for granted. You have overlooked
+one quality I have, and that is--a nose for a thief. I owe to it a
+good deal of such success as I have had--in a sense, I can smell a
+thief so soon as he comes near me. Of course, in your case I had your
+father's record to help me; but I think that, without it, I should
+have scented you, your odour was so pungent. You had not been in the
+place a month before you began to play your little tricks. I do not
+flatter myself that I found you out in all of them, but I did in a
+good many. I said nothing, but I made a note of each, and have the
+complete record in a certain volume which will possibly be produced
+one day in a court of assize. Then there came the incident of the
+cheque--the eight pounds which you turned into eighty. When I saw that
+cheque I realised that immunity had given you courage, and that you
+were beginning to fly at higher game. I am, as I believe you and other
+gentlemen in the office are aware, a regular old fogey, a dray-horse
+sort of man. I never, if I can help it, arrive at a hasty decision. I
+put that cheque aside and waited; you see, although you live to the
+age of Methuselah, a thing like this is always up against you--you can
+never get away from it. I was in no hurry."
+
+Again Mr. Patterson paused. Leaning back in his chair, he smiled.
+Rodney told himself that he resembled an ogre who was enjoying, in
+anticipation, the meal he proposed to make of him.
+
+"After all, my lad, although you are so clever, you're a fool--indeed,
+your cleverness is folly. If you had to be dishonest, hadn't you sense
+enough to gratify your instincts on less dangerous lines? You have
+made a serious mistake in underrating me; perhaps that's because your
+experience of men is small. I've been watching you; you've been living
+in a fool's paradise--your conscience has never pinched you because
+you have never feared discovery. Yet, if you had troubled yourself to
+think, you must have known that, sooner or later, discovery was bound
+to come, and that, when it did, I had you. You were a fool, my lad, a
+fool."
+
+The speaker's smile grew more pronounced. To his nephew's thinking it
+became more and more like an ogre's grin. But when he went on it not
+only vanished, but its place was taken by something which was
+unpleasantly like a snarl.
+
+"Then my daughter came on the scene. There, again, you were at fault,
+because it so happens that I understand my daughter almost as well as
+you do. She may think herself romantic, but she isn't--there's no more
+romance about her than there is about me. She's a healthy, vigorous
+female animal, with her father's blood in her veins, and her father's
+fondness for the good things of this life of all sorts and kinds.
+She's seen little of men, especially young men, and I quite appreciate
+the fact that you're just the sort of young man at whose head she
+would fling herself--with a little delicate encouragement from you.
+But she won't, don't you make any mistake, my lad. I haven't forgotten
+how your father won your mother; and I promise you you shan't win my
+daughter in the same way. On the day on which I suspected you of any
+such intention you'd be branded as a gaol bird, and for the whole
+remainder of your life you'd be passing in and out of prison gates.
+I'm asking for no promise, being aware that you're one of Nature's
+liars, I know that not the least reliance is to be placed on any word
+you utter, but I'm giving you a promise. You can make any excuse to
+her you like--I'm sure you're a whale at excuses; if you ever speak to
+her again, even to tell her that you're not to speak; if you ever
+write to her; if you ever hold any communication with her whatever,
+you'll pass into the hands of the police, and I'll tell her your story
+and your father's. My girl has another thing in common with her
+father--she's honest, she hates a rogue. And if she knew that you were
+a common kennel thief, as your father was before you, she'd have no
+more truck with you if you were twenty times her husband, and I don't
+believe she'd move a finger to save you from penal servitude. I'm not
+going to turn you away; you're going to continue to occupy your
+present position in my office, so that I can keep my eye on you, so
+don't you try to turn tail and run. Now we understand each other. I
+have my morning letters to attend to, but I thought I'd better have
+this little explanation with you first. Now you can go; take my
+advice--if you can--steal no more. If you keep along the same path
+you'll find at the end what your father found, he was no more anxious
+to find it than you are--suicide."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IV
+
+                    THE THREE GIRLS AND THE THREE
+                              TELEGRAMS
+
+
+His uncle's words were in Rodney's ears for days afterwards. Was it
+conceivable that he, to whom life was so sweet a thing, could under
+any circumstances seek refuge in a suicide's grave? It was horrid that
+his father should have been that sort of man; it was hard on him. His
+mother ought to have told him; at least he would have been on his
+guard. No wonder his uncle had been prejudiced against him; had his
+mother not been so unkindly silent, he might--well, he might have
+framed his conduct, so far as his uncle was concerned, on different
+lines. How could he have guessed that his uncle was observing him with
+almost unnatural keenness; while, all the time, he supposed him to be
+purblind? It was a most unfortunate position for a young fellow to be
+placed in; a word from his mother would have been of such assistance.
+He was always reluctant to blame anyone; yet he could not but
+feel that his parents had not used him well; with that moral
+colour-blindness, which was one of his most striking characteristics,
+he was already beginning to lump them together, though he knew
+perfectly well, of his own knowledge, that, in all things, his mother
+had been the soul of honour.
+
+He was most awkwardly placed as regards his cousin; he had engagements
+with her which he was aware she would resent his breaking; and her
+father had even forbidden him to explain. Not that he could think of
+any explanation which would meet the case from her point of view; she
+was apt to be quick-tempered where he was concerned, and he was most
+anxious to keep in with her; one never knew what might happen. He had
+been cramming up the subject of apoplexy, both from books, and from
+the lips of medical acquaintances; and he felt sure, from certain
+little things he had noticed, that it was quite possible that his
+uncle might have a stroke at any second; and, of course, if he did,
+the situation would be entirely altered. But, at the same time, that
+could not be counted on; and, in the meanwhile, there was Gladys both
+to consider and conciliate. Still, he managed; his dexterity in such
+matters was remarkable. He contrived that a communication should reach
+his cousin to the effect that her father had forbidden him to meet
+her, on pain of instant dismissal, and that, to save her from the
+paternal anger, he had promised that he would not even write to her.
+He counselled her, however, to be patient, expressing his conviction
+that this state of things was not likely to continue, and that before
+long they would be more than compensated for the brief period during
+which they would be separated one from the other.
+
+Then he went to his uncle in his room at the office, and telling him,
+what was quite true, that Gladys had written asking for an explanation
+of his sudden cessation of their intimacy, requested him, for
+everybody's sake, since he had ordered him not to write to her, to
+inform her himself of the prohibition he had laid upon his nephew.
+This, grimly enough, Mr. Patterson undertook to do, and doubtless did.
+And for more than a fortnight Rodney Elmore had quite a dull time.
+Then a sequence of events came crowding on him so rapidly that within
+a period of some eight-and-forty hours the whole course of his life
+was changed.
+
+The sequence began on a certain Saturday morning. Before he was yet
+out of his bedroom he was informed that Mr. Austin had called; and,
+indeed, the words were hardly spoken before Tom showed himself in.
+Rodney was unfeignedly glad to see him. He had always liked Tom,
+who was the antipodes of himself; a red-headed, freckle-faced,
+simple-minded youth, who was not likely to set the Thames on fire, and
+who, in fact, had no desires in that direction. He had "cut" college
+for a few days, but had to hurry back by an early train; which
+explained the matutinal hour he had chosen for a call. He brought news
+that Stella was in town, staying with some people over Kensington way;
+and suggested, as he rather thought that Stella found it dullish, that
+he should look her up, if possible that very afternoon, and take her
+somewhere. Rodney declared that he would be only too glad to have the
+chance; he would get away early from the office, and go straight to
+her, and would let her have a wire at once to let her know that he was
+coming.
+
+Then, when they adjourned to breakfast, a meal at which the visitor
+expressed his readiness to assist, Tom volunteered the information
+that he had been down to see Mary Carmichael, who was staying with an
+aunt at Hove. She was quite well, was Mary, and, if anything, prettier
+than ever; and he rather thought that, at last, he had fixed things up
+with her. As he said this he flushed a red which was not at all the
+same shade as his hair.
+
+"You know," he observed, "how she's always refused to take me
+seriously, and what a job I've had to get her to do it, and how she's
+always ragged me, pretending that I was too young to know my own mind,
+and all that sort of rot. Well, this time I rather fancy that I've
+convinced her that I do know my own mind; and, what's more, I fancy
+that I've found out what's in hers too. You know, she's always stuck
+out that she'd have nothing to say to me about--you know what, till
+I'd taken my degree. Of course, I ought to have taken the beastly
+thing ages ago; there's no need for anyone to tell me that; but this
+time I am going to do the trick--you see. Everyone will tell you that
+I've been working like blazes, and even my tutor has hopes. Mary as
+good as told me last night that if I once got the thing the banns
+could go up inside three months--honestly, she did. Of course, she was
+only laughing; you know how she does laugh at a fellow; but I believe
+she meant it, all the same. I say, this ham of yours is top hole; I'll
+have another whack."
+
+While Tom helped himself to the other "whack," his friend said with a
+sigh:
+
+"You're a lucky beggar to be able to think of marriage at your time of
+life."
+
+"Don't I know it? For that I've got the pater to thank; he's been
+making more piles. All he really wants is that I should settle down;
+nothing would please him better than to see me married; he'd be almost
+as glad as I should to have Mary as a member of the family. Isn't it
+queer that while I've liked Mary all her life I've liked her more and
+more as time went on, until--well, if I do get her I shall have got
+all I want."
+
+"Then, with all my heart, I hope you get her."
+
+"I've decided hopes, old man--decided. I say, you know, Stella's not a
+bad sort, although I am her brother."
+
+"Do you think that I don't know it?"
+
+"You're the best pal I have in the world, and--I don't think she
+objects to you."
+
+"Tom, dear old chap, don't say another word--please. I'm never going
+to ask a girl to marry me until I'm in a position to keep her as my
+wife should be kept."
+
+"That's sound enough in a general way; but as regards this particular
+case it's all tuppence. Stella has money, and the pater, if properly
+worked, would supply more; I happen to know that he's quite willing
+she should marry anyone she likes, so long as it's a decent chap--and
+he knows you're that. Why, if it comes to that, he could slip you, as
+easy as winking, into a much better berth than the one you have at
+your uncle's."
+
+"Tom, I know you're the best chum a man ever had, and one day I'm
+going to prove it. I haven't your happy knack of baring my heart, even
+to myself; I'm a more secretive kind of brute; but, like you, I have
+my dreams, and before very long I hope to have good news for you. But
+now, please, don't say anything more about it."
+
+And Tom said nothing; he changed the subject to Oxford gossip,
+chattering away light-heartedly while Rodney glanced at the letters
+which the morning post had brought. Among them was one in a bold,
+slashing hand, which he knew well.
+
+
+                                   "90, Russell Square.
+
+                                                    "Friday.
+
+"DEAR OLD BOY,--The dad's gone off weekending without notice, and I
+never found out what he was going to do till it was too late to get at
+you, or I would have got; so here am I in this great mausoleum of a
+house all on my lonesome. To-morrow, early, I've an engagement with
+Cissie Henderson, but in the evening--and no nonsense, sir!--you'll
+have to dine me in some quiet place, where there are no prying eyes;
+and afterwards you can amuse me as you like. No excuse will be
+accepted; I want to spend to-morrow evening in your society, and I'm
+going to--and the dad can go hang! So mind you send me a wire directly
+you get this to let me know where I'm to meet you--at seven, sir!--and
+don't let there be any mistake about it. Until we do meet,
+
+                                                 "Yours, G."
+
+
+As he read this characteristic note of an up-to-date young woman a
+chord was touched somewhere in Rodney's being which made him conscious
+of a pleasant little thrill. Even while Austin chattered he was
+telling himself that he also would let the lady's "dad go hang," and
+that she should spend the evening in his society, be the consequences
+what they might.
+
+When the visitor departed it was understood that Rodney would send a
+wire on his way to the office to let Stella know at what time she
+might expect him. Scarcely had Austin left the house than there came a
+telegram for Elmore. He opened it, supposing it to be from the
+impatient lady in Russell Square; but he was wrong. The message ran:
+
+
+"Do come down to-morrow and cheer me up. Aunt is going out. I shall be
+alone. I have had Tom as companion for three whole days, so am in need
+of a tonic. Wire train. Be sure and come.
+
+                                             "MARY."
+
+
+Mary? For a moment he wondered who Mary was. Then he saw that the
+message had been handed in at a Brighton post-office, and he
+understood. Mary? Mary was Mary Carmichael. At the thought of her his
+eyes sparkled and his spirits rose. After a fashion Mary Carmichael
+was the feminine creature in all the world that he liked best. Not
+only was she pretty, and dainty, and bright, and smart and clever, but
+just as Gladys Patterson appealed to him in one direction so Mary
+Carmichael did in another. Her telegram suggested what that direction
+was; in a way they were birds of a feather. Tom Austin had been her
+life-long admirer, slave, her avowed wooer; quite probably one day she
+would become his wife; yet she was not averse to being "cheered up" by
+his bosom friend, after confessing, by telegram, that she had been
+bored by three days of his society. Rodney chuckled at the thought of
+it; the thing seemed to him to be so amusing. Just now Tom had been
+telling him, with boyish candour, in single-hearted confidence in his
+integrity, that he had come away from Brighton under the impression
+that he was shortly to be made the happiest of men; and here was the
+girl who was to make him happy so anxious for an antidote to his
+society, begging him to do what Tom clearly had not done--cheer her
+up--and adding, as a peculiar inducement, that she would be alone.
+Poor old Tom! what a fool he was--and what a little minx was pretty
+Miss Mary!
+
+On his way to the office Rodney sent three telegrams. One to Stella
+Austin, at Kensington, to say that he would be with her as near to two
+o'clock as possible, and that he hoped she would come out with him;
+one to Gladys Patterson, in Russell Square, asking her to meet him at
+a restaurant in Jermyn Street at seven sharp; one to Mary Carmichael,
+at Hove, informing her that he would arrive in Brighton to-morrow
+morning by the train due at noon. It was a female clerk to whom he
+handed these three messages; when she had scanned them she glanced up
+at him, as he felt, with a species of curiosity; he had a suspicion
+that she smiled.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER V
+
+                                STELLA
+
+
+On the whole, Rodney Elmore spent a pleasant afternoon with Stella
+Austin. He took her to the Zoological Gardens, which was a place she
+liked. Beyond doubt she enjoyed herself immensely. She was very fond
+of animals, even of the most savage kind. In the wild-beast house,
+confronting the lions and the tigers, with Rodney at her side, she
+wondered, with a little shudder, what would happen if the creatures
+all got out. Drawing her arm in his, he pressed it closely; she liked
+that, too.
+
+From his point of view, the pleasure with which she greeted him on his
+arrival at the house in Kensington was almost pathetic. He reproached
+her gently for not having told him she was coming to town. She replied
+that it had only been decided at the last moment, and that she was
+just going to write to him when Tom, appearing on the scene, offered
+to take the news in person. The way in which she took it for granted
+that he was as glad to see her as she was to see him appealed to his
+sympathy so strongly that he was nearly moved to take her in his arms
+and kiss her there and then. But he refrained. He never had kissed
+Stella, even in the old days. He had always had a feeling that a kiss
+would mean so much more to her than it did to him; indeed, that was
+one of her faults in his eyes, that everything meant so much more to
+her than it did to him. Often he would have liked to kiss her; having
+brought matters to a point at which a kiss was the next thing which
+might have been expected, he felt sure that she had expected it. But
+he kept himself sufficiently in hand to stop on the very edge, having
+it in his mind that it might be as well for him to be able, some day,
+if need be, to assert with truth that he had never gone beyond it.
+
+Ordinarily he would have had no scruples on such a point. Oddly
+enough, in a sense, he was afraid of Stella, recognising in her an
+essential purity with which he himself had nothing in common. Her
+standard of life was so infinitely above his own that he was always
+conscious of a sense of strain after being some time in her company;
+it came from his attempting to sustain himself in the rarefied
+atmosphere in which she moved with ease. He would have been willing to
+hold her in his arms; he would have loved to; but he would not have
+liked to know that she was his superior in all essentials; and he
+would have to know. Sooner or later she might discover what kind of
+creature he was; but, though he believed that in such a plight she
+would keep her own counsel, none the less he would resent the
+discovery she had made.
+
+Then, again, his taste in women was fastidious; he was not sure that
+she filled all his requirements. She was pleasant enough to look at;
+had pretty eyes, a fresh complexion, a tender smile--sometimes when
+she smiled he loved her so that it was all he could do to keep from
+committing himself utterly. But she was short and broad for her
+height; to his thinking her figure lacked dignity. He had the modern
+young man's notion that if you look at the mother you will see what
+the daughter is going to be. Mrs. Austin was plump and matronly; he
+feared that before long Stella would be the same. He did not care for
+matronly women; he liked them tall and slim. Then he was particular
+about the way in which a woman dressed; he liked those whom he
+favoured with his society, as he put it, to do him credit. He had
+felt, only too often, that Stella was almost dowdy; she was never
+really smart. Her clothes were good of their kind, but they suggested
+the provinces; or she had not the knack of showing them off to
+advantage. He liked a girl's foot to be cased in what he called a
+pretty stocking, and a smart shoe with a Louis heel; Stella wore
+serviceable shoes with low heels, and the plainest of stockings. With
+these things in his mind he had ventured, once, to hint that he would
+like to have the dressing of her. She had been silent for some
+seconds, and had then replied, scarcely above a whisper, and with
+downcast eyes:
+
+"Perhaps one day you will."
+
+He was perfectly conscious that that "one day" was the day of which
+she was always dreaming. He was not sure that he was so willing it
+should come as she was.
+
+But that afternoon he was not disposed to be critical. He was really
+glad to see her. It was some time since they had met; he was nearly
+surprised to find what a jolly girl she was; her smile was unusually
+tender. As they quitted the monkey-house she spoke of Tom and Mary.
+
+"Did Tom tell you that he has nearly brought that hard-hearted Mary of
+his to the promising point?"
+
+"He did seem to be sanguine."
+
+"Poor old Tom! I believe if she'd promise quite he'd pass straight
+off; it's anxiety which causes him to be ploughed. I've written to
+Mary telling her just what I think, and informing her that she's to
+keep him no longer suspended between heaven and earth, but that she's
+to marry him at once. Mamma wants it, papa wants it, I want it, Tom
+wants it--everybody wants it. She's the dearest girl in the world; but
+she's a goose."
+
+"Because she hesitates?"
+
+"Why should she? Tom will make her the best husband in the world--you
+know he will."
+
+"Perhaps every girl doesn't want 'the best husband in the world.'"
+
+"Are you trying to say something clever? If she has a husband, of
+course she does. Do look at those two in front; I've been watching
+them. She keeps putting out her hand to feel for his, or he puts out
+his to feel for hers. Do you think they're newly married?"
+
+"Is that how you mean to behave when you're newly married?"
+
+"It depends."
+
+"On what?"
+
+"Oh, it depends."
+
+"You said that before. On what does it depend?"
+
+Suddenly a glimpse he caught of the smile which lighted up her face
+started him off at a tangent--without waiting for her answer.
+
+"It seems ages since I saw you last; it's awfully nice to see you
+again--especially as you're looking prettier than ever."
+
+"Do you like this frock that I've got on? You ought to, I had it made
+specially for you--you are so critical about my clothes."
+
+"Oughtn't a man to be critical about the girl he--he cares for?"
+
+"Do you care for me?"
+
+"You know I do."
+
+"How much?"
+
+"More than I--dare tell you."
+
+"Rodney."
+
+"Stella."
+
+"I hope one day, before very long, you'll find courage enough."
+
+The challenge was a direct one. In such matters he was such a creature
+of impulse that it set his pulses galloping. They had reached a spot
+where they had for sole society some queer-looking birds who peered at
+them through the wires which confined them to their runs.
+
+"Stella, you mustn't tempt me. If you only knew what I'd give to be
+able to take you in my arms."
+
+"Rodney, it isn't fair of you to talk like that. You say that sort of
+thing, and make me feel as if the world were whirling round and round,
+and then you go no farther."
+
+"You know why I go no farther."
+
+"I don't! I don't!"
+
+As she turned and looked at him he saw how her cheeks were flushed;
+that tears were in her pretty eyes; how her lips were twisted as by
+physical pain. He really was so fond of her that the sight of her
+suffering moved him almost beyond endurance. Careless of spectators
+who might come at any moment to look at the birds, he took both her
+hands in his.
+
+"Stella!"
+
+He paused; he was conscious how pregnant with meaning the pause was to
+her, how she waited for his words. He let them come.
+
+"Stella, will you be my wife?"
+
+"You know I will! How long have you known it, sir? How long have you
+been aware that you had only to ask to have? I go all over shame when
+I think of it. I don't--I really don't--think you've used me quite
+fairly, sir. Because, you know, you oughtn't to keep on telling a girl
+that you care for her, and--then say nothing more. I've even sometimes
+wondered if you were playing with me--I have! Were you?"
+
+"Never. How could you think it?"
+
+"I had to think something, hadn't I? And--what could I think? Then you
+do really and truly care for me?"
+
+"With the whole force of my being."
+
+She drew a long breath, as if it were a sigh of pleasure.
+
+"And you really and truly want me to be your wife?"
+
+"As Tom said of Mary--if I get you I get all that I want in the
+world."
+
+"Then, why didn't you try to get me before?"
+
+"Stella, every man has his own standard. You have money; perhaps one
+day you'll have more; I have no money; perhaps I never may have. Under
+those circumstances, though I worshipped the ground you stood on, I
+had, and have, no right to ask you to be my wife. I have held out
+against the temptation to do so over and over again, but--I could hold
+out no longer. You must forgive me."
+
+"For what? For having what you call 'held out'? I am not sure that I
+do. You can't have wanted me so very, very much, or you wouldn't have
+held out so long. That's what I feel."
+
+"Stella, if you only knew!"
+
+"And if you only knew!"
+
+"The days I've thought of you, and the nights I've dreamed!"
+
+"And do you suppose that I can't think--and dream?"
+
+"Sometimes, after I've left you with the words unuttered, and thought
+of what I should feel if I had you in my arms, it was pretty hard to
+bear."
+
+"Rodney!--I wonder if anyone is coming? After all your holding out,
+you have--chosen a funny place."
+
+Heedless of anyone coming, he put his arm about her waist and drew her
+quickly to the comparative shelter of a fairly grown tree.
+
+When Rodney Elmore had started out with Stella Austin nothing had been
+farther from his mind than any intention of asking her to be his wife.
+He was amazed to find, now that the thing was done, how pleasant it
+had been. The whole episode had been delightful--so delightful that he
+was loth to bring it to a close. The rubicon being passed, another
+Stella was revealed. The simple question he had put to her might have
+been some magic formula, so great a change had it wrought in the
+maiden. He had never credited her with the capacity to be so
+delicious; for she was delicious in a dozen unsuspected ways. He had
+been fond of her before he asked her to be his wife; in less than half
+an hour! afterwards he was in love with her. The new Stella had
+bewitched him; to such a degree that he would have been willing to
+stay with her in the Zoological Gardens for an indefinite period of
+time, had he not had a previous engagement. It was with a feeling of
+distinct disgust that he realised that he would have to tear himself
+away. Nor was the parting rendered easier by the lady's attitude. She
+could not be brought to see that any engagement was of such importance
+that, on that day of all days, he was forced to leave her so
+summarily. Nor would he have left her, could he have helped it. He
+assured her, with perfect truth, that he would have only been too
+happy to spend the evening with her at the house of her friends in
+Kensington, had he dared, but he did not dare. She asked him why,
+being now entitled to ask such questions. He did not tell her that it
+was because he was conscious that it might be almost more dangerous to
+disappoint his cousin than to rob her father. He fabricated instead an
+ingenious lie, which convinced her against her will.
+
+Then there arose the question of the morrow. Being Sunday, of course
+he would be able to spend the whole of it with her. There, again, a
+previous engagement blocked the way. He explained that, never having
+anticipated the delightful footing on which he stood with her, he had
+made the engagement long ago. Would she have him break his word? It
+depended, she said, to whom his word was pledged; she did think that
+he might spend that first Sunday with her. Then he spun a yarn about
+an old friend of his mother who had begged him again and again to
+visit her, to whom he had promised to go at last. He knew that she had
+made all sorts of preparations for his reception; now, if he were to
+throw her over she would feel, with justice, that he had treated her
+very badly. He could not bear that she should feel that. She was his
+mother's dearest friend. Her name was Staples. She lived in a little
+village the other side of Dorking. Stella supposed that, anyhow, he
+would not have to stay there late. As to that, he could not say. The
+Sunday trains to Dorking were very awkward. But this he promised, at
+the earliest moment at which with decency he could get away, he would;
+and if the hour of his return to town were not frightfully late he
+would rush over to Kensington, if it were only for half a dozen words.
+But of this she might be quite certain; he would spend the whole of
+Monday evening with her if she would let him; he would come straight
+to her from the office.
+
+So, finally, on that understanding, they parted; that he would come to
+her on Sunday, if only for a minute or two, and that, anyhow, he would
+revel in her dear society for so much of Monday as was left after his
+office work was done. But, for him, between that and Monday, the world
+was to be turned upside down.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VI
+
+                                GLADYS
+
+
+Hurry as he might, it was nearly half-past seven before Rodney Elmore
+reached that restaurant in Jermyn Street at which he was due at seven.
+The fault was Stella's. Had she not spun out the parting to such an
+unconscionable length, he would have been able to be there in time.
+But he could not explain this to Gladys Patterson, who had never heard
+of the girl. She rose, as he came in, from a seat in the vestibule,
+with a face which mirrored the anxiety she had felt.
+
+"Whatever is the matter? I thought that something had happened, and
+you weren't coming."
+
+"My dearest child, I've been the victim of a series of accidents; I
+was beginning to wonder myself if I should ever get here."
+
+Then he told another lie--invented on the spur of the moment. He had
+not troubled to prepare one on the way; he was not sure of the mood in
+which he might find her; one story might suit one mood another
+another. With him, to lie was as easy as to breathe; he himself was
+often hardly conscious he was lying, he lied so like truth.
+
+"So you see, I've been half off my head, and in a deuce of a stew.
+Perhaps you'll tell me what you'd have done in my position. But, thank
+goodness, I'm here at last. The worst of it is, I haven't ordered
+dinner, or reserved a table; we shall have to take pot-luck; let's
+hope that the _table d'hôte_ is worth eating."
+
+It so chanced that there was a table, and that the _menu_ of the set
+dinner read quite well. Presently they were fronting each other at a
+little table in a corner of the room, each in the best possible frame
+of mind. She had forgotten the strain of waiting in her delight that
+he had come, while he was charmed to find her in so good a temper.
+Indeed, he seemed to be in the very highest spirits, and when he was
+that no one could be better company. Then the food was good; that was
+a point on which they both were excellent judges. On the occasion of
+that first dinner in Russell Square each had played on the other a
+pleasant comedy; to make a good impression on the strange cousin, who
+might have views on such matters, Gladys had drunk nothing but water,
+and, for some similar reason, Rodney had done the same. It was only
+when, later, they were on more intimate terms, that they learned that
+neither was a teetotaller. It was rather funny. As a matter of fact,
+so far as the pleasures of the table were concerned, Gladys was in
+very truth her father's child; not only could she appreciate good food
+well cooked, but she was by way of being a connoisseur of certain
+wines; and in such respects Rodney was an excellent second.
+
+Before the dinner was half way through she was looking at him with
+something in her eyes which spoke to a similar something which was in
+his. He had forgotten the episode of the afternoon as if it had never
+been. This was the sort of girl he loved to have in front of him on
+the other side of a table--one who would eat what he ate, drink what
+he drank, do as he did; to whom he could say whatever he pleased. They
+joked on the subject of the absent Mr. Patterson.
+
+"I wonder," she said, "what would happen if he walked in here at this
+very moment."
+
+Rodney also wondered, for a second, in silence.
+
+"For one thing, he'd spoil our evening, because he'd start you
+straight away off home."
+
+"Would he? I should take some starting. I never am particularly afraid
+of him, and I'm not in the least when I've had two glasses of
+Montebello--rattling good bottle, this is. Thank you; that's the
+third. What beats me is why you're afraid of him. You don't strike me
+as being a person who's afraid of much. What would it matter if he did
+give you the key of the street, so far as his office is concerned?
+You'd easily find a better one. There's a mystery somewhere. Don't
+imagine, my dear old man, that I don't know so much. Why has he such
+an objection to you? And why are you so much in awe of him? Now's your
+time--out with it. Make a clean breast of it--between this glass and
+the next."
+
+"I can't tell you why he objects to me, but I can assure you that I
+don't stand in awe of him."
+
+"Rubbish! If you don't, why have you kept away from me in the way you
+have done?--you exasperating boy! I console myself with the reflection
+that if I'm losing your society you're losing mine; because I'll bet a
+trifle that you're just as fond of seeing me every other day or so as
+I am of seeing you."
+
+"You're right there. If I saw you all day and every day I shouldn't
+mind."
+
+"I'm not so sure of that; there's a limit. It might be all right for a
+time; but, my hat! wouldn't you get bored after a month of nothing
+else but my society!"
+
+"What price you--after a month of nothing else but me?"
+
+She seemed to reflect before she answered.
+
+"You see, it's like this; if you and I were alone together for a
+month, or longer----"
+
+"I'd be willing to make it longer."
+
+"Would you?"
+
+She looked at him with shining eyes.
+
+"Rodney, you're a dear. If we were to be alone together for so long as
+that, we should have to alter the pace. I fancy that where a man and a
+woman are concerned it's the pace that kills."
+
+"What do you mean by that, oh, wise one?"
+
+"If you had one pound of chocs to eat you might gobble them down as
+fast as you please, and no harm would be done."
+
+"You've tried it?"
+
+"Perhaps! But if you had a ton you would have to go, oh so carefully,
+or you would be so sick. But we meet so seldom that when we do we want
+to gobble; I know that, so far as I am concerned, I want to get as
+much of you as I possibly can during the short time we are together."
+
+"Same here--only more so."
+
+They smiled at each other across the little table. Then, glancing
+down, she transferred her attention to what was on her plate.
+
+"But, of course, if we weren't to part for a month--or more--it would
+be different."
+
+"True, oh, queen! And suppose we were to marry!"
+
+"I don't think I'd mind."
+
+"I'm pretty nearly sure I shouldn't."
+
+"That's very sweet of you to say so. Only--there's dad!"
+
+"There's very much dad!"
+
+"He can forbid my seeing you, and that kind of thing, if he pleases;
+and if he finds out that I've been disobedient he'll make himself
+extremely disagreeable. Still, I fancy I could manage him. But if I
+were to marry you against his wishes, I don't believe I'd ever get
+another penny from him, living or dead; and as you have no immediate
+promise of becoming a millionaire, that would be awkward for both of
+us."
+
+"It would. All the same, don't you think it would be comfy if we were
+secretly engaged--in the event of anything happening to him?"
+
+"What's going to happen?"
+
+"Anything--living the sort of life he does."
+
+"Are you hinting that there's anything the matter with his health?"
+
+"My dear girl, you've only to use your eyes to be aware that a doctor
+would tell him that he's the kind of man who ought to swear off
+everything. And does he?"
+
+"You make me feel all shivery. You talk as if you expected him to die
+right off."
+
+"We've all had sentence of capital punishment pronounced against us,
+and, though we don't know when it will be put into execution, in such
+a case as his it's possible to guess that it mayn't be very long
+postponed."
+
+"Rodney! I don't like to hear you talk like that. He's fond of asking
+me questions about you; I hate telling lies; if we were engaged, and
+he were in one of his cross-examining moods, I might find myself in a
+fix."
+
+He played with his knife while a waiter was bringing another course.
+
+"Consider something else. Let me put a hypothetical case. Suppose a
+girl were to make a dead set at me, I might like to be able to tell
+her that I'm engaged already."
+
+"Who's the girl?"
+
+"The girl, like the case, is hypothetical; but I can conceive of
+circumstances in which I should like to feel that we were engaged."
+
+"You've changed your mind. A short time ago you were all the other
+way."
+
+"I've been considering matters. Say, for example, that your father
+puts his foot down, and that we don't see each other again for an
+indefinite period. Do you not think that then I should not like to
+feel that we were engaged?"
+
+"You can feel that we're engaged all you want to, without our setting
+it down in black and white. Aren't you as sure of me as if I were your
+wife already? Don't you know that if circumstances permitted I would
+become your wife? Do you wish me to understand that I'm not as sure of
+you?"
+
+"Gladys, you're a goose. So far as I'm concerned, I'm inclined to the
+opinion that I'd like you to be my wife to-night."
+
+"It's you who are the goose. As if we didn't understand each other far
+too well to render it necessary to have things placed on a ceremonious
+footing. We can do without formulas."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VII
+
+                                 MARY
+
+
+On the Sunday Rodney Elmore kept his engagement with the third young
+woman, with the punctiliousness on which, in such matters, he prided
+himself. He went down to Brighton on the Pullman, Limited, and was met
+at the station by Mary Carmichael. He exclaimed, at sight of her:
+
+"You angel!--to come and meet me!"
+
+"I'm not quite sure that I did come to meet you, in the strict sense.
+I'd nothing to do; I've always a feeling that the queerest lot of
+people come by this train, the oddest sort of week-enders--didn't you
+notice how the platform reeked of perfume?--so that its arrival's
+generally worth seeing. Besides, between ourselves, I'd a kind of
+notion that Tom might come by it. If he had I should have ignored you
+utterly, and should have explained that something within told me he
+was coming, and that was why I was here. Wouldn't he have been
+enraptured?"
+
+As he listened--and, in his observant way, took in the details of her
+appearance--Rodney was conscious, not for the first time, of how
+beneficent Providence had been in making girls in such variety.
+Stella, emblematic of the domestic virtues; Gladys, for physical
+pleasure; Mary, suggestive of the arch in the sky, which, though a man
+may walk for many days, he shall never find the end of. To his
+thinking she was as many-tinted as a rainbow; as beautiful, as
+elusive. He doubted if the average man were her husband whether he
+would have any but the dimmest comprehension of her at the finish; she
+had a knack of surprising even him. He had known her a good long time,
+yet he admitted to himself that in many respects she was still wholly
+beyond his comprehension, and he prided himself, not without reason,
+on his gift for understanding persons of the opposite sex.
+
+They went down towards the Hove lawns in a fly, and were still in
+Queen's Road when she said:
+
+"So you've done it at last."
+
+He turned towards her as if a trifle startled.
+
+"Done what?"
+
+"Asked Stella to be your wife."
+
+"How on earth do you know that?"
+
+"My simple-minded babe, aren't I the very dearest friend Stella has in
+the world? And didn't she, directly you left her yesterday afternoon,
+send me a telegram conveying the news? Do you think she would keep it
+a moment longer than she could help from me, especially as she is
+perfectly well aware that I've been on tip-toe for it for goodness
+alone knows how long? And aren't I expecting a letter of at least half
+a dozen pages to-morrow morning to tell me all about it? I wired my
+congratulations to her at once, and I almost wired them to you; then I
+thought I'd keep them till you came this morning. My congratulations,
+Rodney, dear."
+
+He was more taken aback than he would have cared to own. What an idiot
+he had been! Had he had his senses about him he would have given
+Stella to understand that the new relationship between them must be
+kept private till it suited him to make it public. That she should
+have telegraphed to Mary the moment he had left her! Could anything be
+more awkward? If to Mary, why not to others? To her mother, her
+father, her brother, her cousins, and her aunts; and she had crowds of
+dearest friends. Possibly by now the news was known to fifty people;
+they would spread it over the face of the land. Had he foreseen such a
+state of things he would have torn his tongue out rather than have
+said what he did in Regent's Park. Imbecile that he was; he had
+forgotten altogether that that was just the tale a girl of a sort
+loves to tell. Had he had his wits about him he might have known that
+she would be all eagerness to proclaim her happiness to her friends.
+To have had a private understanding with Stella might have been fun.
+He might have lied to her; played the traitor; done as he pleased--it
+would not have mattered if her heart was broken so long as she
+suffered in silence. But the affair assumed quite a different
+complexion if her confounded relations were to have their parts in it.
+He would have to endure all kinds of talkee-talkee from her mother.
+That oaf Tom might want to thrust his blundering foot into what was no
+concern of his. Worst of all, there was her father. Rodney was quite
+certain that he would want to regularise the position at once; that he
+himself would be helpless in his hands. Mr. Austin would require a
+clear statement of his intentions; having got it, he would see that it
+was adhered to. Being opposed to long engagements, he would want to
+fix the wedding day--and he would fix it. Rodney was uncomfortably
+conscious that he had made such a conspicuous ass of himself that,
+being delivered into her father's strong hands, almost before he knew
+it he might find himself the husband of Stella Austin.
+
+He shuddered at the thought--a fact which was observed by the young
+lady at his side.
+
+"Whatever is the matter? You shook the fly! You haven't thanked me for
+my congratulations, nor do you seem so elated as I expected. You know
+I'm not sure that it was quite nice of you to propose to another girl
+on the very day before the one on which you knew you were coming down
+to me. For all you could tell, I was expecting you to propose to me."
+
+"If I'd only thought there was the slightest chance, wouldn't I have
+loved to."
+
+"I suppose for the sake of practice."
+
+"Well--there are girls with whom one would like to practice
+love-making."
+
+"That's a nice thing to say, and you an engaged man of less than
+four-and-twenty hours' standing. There's a taximeter--stop him! Pay
+the driver of this silly old cab and let's get into the taxi."
+
+The transfer was effected, the driver of the "silly old cab"
+expressing himself on the subject with some frankness. When they were
+in the taxi the lady set forth the idea which had been in her mind.
+
+"I don't want to go on to the horrid lawns and see the stupid people
+in their ugly dresses; I can't take you to aunt's house, because, as
+you know, she's away, and I don't want the servants to talk; I don't
+want to lunch at either of the hotels, because I hate them all; I do
+want to go where we can be all by ourselves, so I suggest the Devil's
+Dyke. This taxi will romp up; it's the most vulgar place I know, so we
+go where we please and do as we choose--everybody does up there."
+
+So it was the Devil's Dyke. The taxi did "romp up." They had lunch at
+the hotel, and afterwards went out on to the downs, Rodney carrying a
+rug which he had borrowed from the hotel over his arm. They had not to
+go far over the slopes before they had left the few people who were up
+there behind, and were as much alone as if they had the world to
+themselves. Rodney spread the rug on the grass at the bottom of one of
+those little hollows shaped like cups which are to be found
+thereabouts by those who seek. On it they reclined; the gentleman lit
+a cigar, the lady a cigarette. They were as much at home with each
+other as either could desire. Their conversation was frankness itself.
+
+"When I feel like liking it," observed the lady, "this is just the
+sort of thing I do like. You're engaged, and I'm engaged, so we ought
+to be nice to each other. Do you mind my kissing you?"
+
+"Not a bit."
+
+She leaned over and kissed him on the lips, he removing his cigar to
+enable her to do it. Then she blew her cigarette smoke in his face and
+laughed. He said nothing; he was thinking that there was a good deal
+to be said for being on such terms with three nice girls. After all,
+there might be something in the Mohammedan's idea of paradise. She was
+silent for a moment; then inquired:
+
+"Why did you ask Stella after all? Because you knew she'd like you
+to?"
+
+He considered his reply.
+
+"No; not altogether. Of course, at the beginning I never meant to,
+then all of a sudden I felt as if I had to. I had a sort of feeling
+that it would be such fun."
+
+"And was it fun?"
+
+"Distinctly; I wouldn't mind going through it all over again."
+
+"Wouldn't you? Now you'll have to marry her."
+
+"Shall I?"
+
+"Don't you want to marry her?"
+
+"I do not."
+
+"That's unfortunate, because you certainly will have to."
+
+"We'll see."
+
+"Stella'll see--or, rather, her family will. If it were any other but
+the Austin family I should have said that a person of your eel-like
+slipperiness----"
+
+"Thank you."
+
+"Might have wriggled away; but if you wriggle away it will be out of
+the frying-pan into the fire. For ever so long the family has been
+expecting you to ask Stella to marry you; you've fostered the
+expectation, and now that you have asked her, if you try to sneak out
+of your engagement, Mr. Austin will make things so uncomfortable that
+you'll find it easier to make Stella Mrs. E."
+
+"And do you want to marry Tom?"
+
+"I do not. All the same, I expect I shall."
+
+"Why? If you don't want to?"
+
+Miss Carmichael sent a cloud of smoke up into the air.
+
+"A girl's position is so different from a man's. I must marry someone,
+and, so far as I can see, it may as well be Tom."
+
+"Why must you marry someone?"
+
+"Don't be absurd! Can you conceive me as a spinster? Rather than be an
+old maid I'd--marry you; I can't say anything stronger."
+
+"You've a friendly way of paying compliments."
+
+"My dear young fellow; as a--chum, when I'm in the mood, you're
+ripping, simply ripping; but as a husband--good Lord, deliver us! If
+Stella understood you only a quarter as well as I do she'd be only too
+glad to let you go the very first moment you showed the faintest
+inclination to bolt."
+
+"And, pray, what sort of wife do you think you'll make?"
+
+Again a pause, while more cigarette smoke went into the air.
+
+"Depends on the man."
+
+"I presume to what extent you can fool him."
+
+"I can imagine a man to whom I would be all that a wife could be, the
+whole happiness of his whole life."
+
+"I can't."
+
+"That's because you don't understand me as well as I do you."
+
+"What sort of wife do you think that you'll make Tom?"
+
+"Oh, he'll be content."
+
+"Poor devil!"
+
+"I'm not so sure; it's a good thing to be content. Each time I put my
+arms about his neck he'll forgive me everything."
+
+"So far as I gather, the difference between me as a husband and you as
+a wife consists in this: that while I'm going to be found out, you're
+not. I don't see why you should be so sure of the immunity you refuse
+to me."
+
+"I admit that in this world one never can be sure of anything. I quite
+credit you with as much capacity to throw dust in a woman's eyes as I
+have to throw dust in a man's. Still, there is a difference between us
+of which I'm conscious, though just now I'm too lazy to attempt an
+exact definition. I really can't see why you object to Stella; she'll
+make you a good wife."
+
+"Hang your good wives!"
+
+"My child! Do you want a bad one? You should have no difficulty in
+being suited."
+
+"Is a sinner likely to be happy if mated to a saint?"
+
+"Would he be happier if mated to another sinner? In that case you
+might do well to marry me--which I doubt."
+
+"I don't. I'm disposed to think that ours would be an ideal union."
+
+"I wonder."
+
+"Neither would expect the other to be perfect; each would allow the
+other a wider range of liberty for purely selfish reasons."
+
+"I say, wouldn't it be rather a joke if you were to throw over Stella
+and I were to throw over Tom and we were to marry each other?"
+
+"I'd do it like a shot if it weren't for one drawback--that we both of
+us are penniless."
+
+"That is a nuisance, since we are both of us so fond of what money
+stands for. If you had five thousand a year perhaps I might marry you
+after all."
+
+"I'm sure you would."
+
+"Pray why are you sure? You've a conceit!"
+
+"I am sure."
+
+"If--I say if--I were to marry you, would you give me a good time?"
+
+"The very best--a time after your own heart."
+
+"Would you? Lots of frocks?"
+
+"All the frocks your soul desired."
+
+"Everything I wanted?"
+
+"That's a tall order. I'm only human."
+
+"That certainly is true. I shouldn't be surprised if you were more
+generous even than Tom."
+
+"I don't call that sort of thing generosity. A man gives things to a
+woman he cares for because he has a lively sense of favours to come."
+
+"That's candid. You've given me one or two trifles already. Has that
+been with a lively sense of favours to come?"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+"You wretch! Would you care for me a little?"
+
+"I care for you more than a little now, as you are perfectly well
+aware."
+
+She turned and whispered something in his ear. He smiled, but kept
+silent. Presently she said aloud:
+
+"It would be rather a joke if we were to marry. Now that the idea's
+got into my head I can't get it out again. It makes little thrills go
+all over me--dear little thrills. I hope that if ever you do marry me
+it will be before I have had to resort to any of women's aids to
+beauty. I should like you to have me just as I am, while I am really
+at my best and while I can still bear the most searching
+investigation. My complexion's my own; I use no powder, rouge, or
+pencil. I haven't a false tooth in my head or even a stopped one. I've
+only a weeny pad on the top of my head, which is rendered absolutely
+necessary by the present style of hairdressing--everything about me's
+true."
+
+"Outside."
+
+"Sir! I dare say we shouldn't make such a very bad pair. Would
+you--like to marry me?"
+
+"Given an assured position, I would marry you."
+
+"Well, then, I'll tell you what we might do. You might marry Stella,
+and--dispose of her with some nice painless thing like chloral; and I
+might marry Tom, and--delicately dispose of him. Then we should both
+of us have an assured position, and--we could marry."
+
+"There's more in the idea than meets the eye."
+
+She threw the fag-end of her cigarette away from her and laughed.
+
+"You're simply ripping!" she exclaimed.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VIII
+
+              BY THE 9.10; THE FIRST PART OF THE JOURNEY
+
+
+Rodney Elmore returned by the 9.10 to town. He had meant to travel by
+the Pullman, but as he entered the station the train was drawing clear
+of the platform. Being informed that another express was starting in
+ten minutes, he had to be content with that. Beyond doubt the Pullman
+had been crowded; as he found himself the sole occupant of a
+first-class carriage, he was inclined to think that he had not lost
+by the exchange. He was in a mood for privacy. Events had followed
+each other so quickly; he had so many things to consider that he was
+glad of an opportunity for a little solitary self-communion. He was
+not pleased, therefore, when, just as the signal had been given to
+start, someone came rushing along the platform, the door was thrown
+open by an officious guard, and a passenger was hoisted into his
+compartment while the train was already in motion; nor was his
+pleasure enhanced by the discovery that the intruder was his uncle,
+Graham Patterson. In such disorder had Mr. Patterson been thrown that
+it was some seconds before he even realised that he had a companion.
+Uncovering, he wiped first his brow, then the lining of his hat. He
+panted so for breath that his critical nephew said to himself that
+if he had run a little further, or even a little faster, he might
+have panted in vain; he had never seen a man in such difficulty with
+his breathing apparatus. His face was purple, his eyes seemed to be
+bulging out of their sockets.
+
+The train had passed Preston Park station before Mr. Patterson had
+sufficiently recovered himself to become alive to the fact that he was
+not alone. But that he still did not recognise his companion his words
+showed.
+
+"I'm not exactly--of the build--to--run after trains."
+
+The moment he spoke Rodney became aware that Mr. Patterson had been
+drinking. Not enough, perhaps, to affect his speech--the hyphenated
+form of the remark he had just made was owing to the trouble he still
+had to breathe--but sufficient to place him at the point which divides
+the drunk from the sober. Elmore was still; possibly because he was
+unwilling to spoil what he felt was the grim humour of the situation.
+His silence apparently struck the other as odd. Presently Mr.
+Patterson glanced round as if to learn what manner of person this was
+who offered no comment on his observation. Then he perceived who his
+companion was.
+
+The discovery seemed to fill him with amazement which approached to
+stupefaction. His jaw dropped, his eyes bulged still farther out of
+his head, his face assumed a darker shade of purple; he looked like a
+man who was on the verge of a fit. His nephew felt that he had never
+seen him present so unprepossessing a spectacle. His surprise was so
+great that an appreciable space of time passed before he could find
+words to give it expression. Then they were of a lurid kind.
+
+"By gad!--it's you! Well, I'm damned!"
+
+"I'm sorry, sir, to hear it."
+
+The retort was so obvious that it had slipped from Rodney's lips
+almost before he was aware. Its effect on Mr. Patterson was so great
+that for some moments his nephew was convinced that that apoplectic
+fit which he had so often seen threatening was hideously close. Mr.
+Patterson himself seemed conscious of the risk he ran. He made a
+perceptible effort to regain self-control--a painful one it evidently
+was. He put his finger to his collar as if to loosen it; one could see
+that his hand shook, his lips trembled, beads of sweat stood on his
+brow. Probably more than a minute had passed before he felt himself in
+a condition to speak again. Still his voice was a little hoarse, his
+utterance not quite clear.
+
+"My lad, if I could have got at you this morning I should have killed
+you."
+
+"Should you, indeed, sir. Pray why?"
+
+The young man had been observing his senior's plight with a sense, not
+only of amusement, but of positive relish. He was conscious that a
+spirit of malice had entered into him. He was prepared to return
+insolence with insolence. This bloated relative of his should this
+time not find him disposed to cringe.
+
+Still with his finger to his neck, as if he would have liked to loosen
+his collar, Mr. Patterson went on, yet a little huskily:
+
+"Luckily I didn't get at you, because I'll do worse than kill you,
+now."
+
+"I thank you for your kind intentions, sir. You have not yet told me
+what I have done to deserve them."
+
+"You've been getting at that girl of mine again."
+
+"You use unpleasant phrases, sir. I'm afraid you have been drinking."
+
+"You young swine! In spite of what I told you, last night you took her
+out with you again to dinner."
+
+"Premising that I don't see why you should so resent my showing little
+courtesies to members of your family, may I ask on what grounds your
+statement is based?"
+
+"You young word-twister! You've your father's tongue. Do you deny it?"
+
+"That I've my father's tongue?"
+
+"That you took my girl to dinner?"
+
+"It's for you to prove; not for me to disprove."
+
+"A man came to me on the front this morning and said that he saw my
+daughter dining last night in Jermyn Street with a young man. He
+described the fellow; from his description I knew that it was you. If
+I could have got at you then and there I'd have broken my stick across
+your back! I'd have--I'd have---- Are you going to tell a lie, and say
+it wasn't you?"
+
+"It was."
+
+"It was?"
+
+"It was. Why not? We had a most agreeable evening, much more
+agreeable, perhaps, than you have any notion of. Possibly, if you ask
+Gladys, she herself will tell you so."
+
+"You--you----!"
+
+"Steady--go slow! If you don't take care you'll have a fit--you know
+you have been drinking."
+
+Possibly because he had given way to such a sudden access of rage, Mr.
+Patterson again went through all his former disagreeable physical
+experiences, while his nephew smiled. He sat inarticulate and gasping,
+incapable alike of speech or movement. When, after a prolonged
+interval, the faculty of speech returned, his voice had grown huskier
+than ever; he spoke slowly, with a pause between each word.
+
+"All right, my lad--laugh, but you won't laugh last. You're not going
+to put me in the cart, as your swindler of a father did; I'm going to
+put you there. I warned you what would be the result of your
+attempting to have any more traffic with my girl, so you've yourself
+to thank for whatever happens."
+
+He stopped, as if he found a difficulty in saying much at once. When
+he continued, while his tones were a little clearer, they were more
+bitter.
+
+"Directly I get home I'm going to tell my girl what kind of man you
+are, and what kind of man your delectable father was. When she knows,
+I'll wager you a trifle that she never willingly speaks to you again;
+she'll despise herself for ever having spoken to you at all; she'll
+treat you in the future as if you had never been. She has her faults,
+but she resembles her father on one point--she has no use for a thief,
+and especially for a thief who is the son of a thief."
+
+Another pause; this time, apparently, not so much for the sake of
+gaining breath as to enable his words to have their full effect on the
+smiling young man at the other end of the carriage. If he looked for
+some sign of their having touched him on a sensitive spot, he found
+none; the young man continued to smile. Possibly because he suspected
+that it might be the other's intention to irritate, he kept himself
+the more in hand. Leaning back in his seat, laying his parti-coloured
+silk handkerchief across his knee, for the first time he wore an
+appearance of ease, and he also began to smile.
+
+"However, since I'm a cautious man, and you never can be certain what
+trick a blackguard will play upon a girl, I'll make assurance doubly
+sure; I'll take steps which will render it impossible for you to play
+a trick on my girl. The first thing to-morrow morning I'll take out a
+warrant for your arrest as a forger and a thief, and I'll give
+instructions to have it executed at once; so, you see, I'm better than
+my word, as I generally am. I warned you that if you dared to force
+yourself upon my girl again I'd have you gaoled, and I will. But I
+didn't undertake to give you a chance to show the police a clean pair
+of heels; yet I'm giving you one. If, between this and to-morrow
+morning--say, at ten--you can make yourself scarce, you can. But
+you'll have to be spry, because I give you my word that if the police
+do let the scent go cold it won't be for want of my urging them after
+you. You may run to earth if you like, but they'll dig you out. Don't
+you flatter yourself on your dodging powers; they'll get the handcuffs
+on your wrists."
+
+Picking up his handkerchief with his finger-tips, Mr. Patterson let it
+fall again across his knee, smiling broadly as if in the enjoyment of
+a joke.
+
+"And don't you flatter yourself that you'll come under the First
+Offenders Act--you won't, I'll take care of that. I've a list locked
+up in a drawer at the office the details of which, when they are
+produced in court, will surprise you. No jury will recommend you to
+mercy after hearing that, and no judge will listen to them if they do.
+You'll be sentenced to a long term of imprisonment as sure as you are
+sitting there. You'll be branded as a felon for the rest of your life.
+I'll teach you, you thief, to try to associate as an equal with that
+girl of mine."
+
+Again he picked up his handkerchief; on this occasion to wipe his
+lips. But this time he did not return it to his knee; he continued to
+hold it in his hand--indeed, he waved it affably towards Elmore.
+
+"I owed your father one--such a one! But he never gave me a chance of
+paying him. Now I owe you one--also such a one--and I'll pay you both
+together--by gad, I will! Oh, you may keep on smiling, you brassbound
+blackguard; I hope you'll find the reality as amusing as you seem to
+find the prospect. When you feel a policeman's hand upon your shoulder
+and handcuffs on your wrists, then you'll stop smiling. Make no
+mistake; for you there's only one way of escape, and that's your
+father's--suicide."
+
+Stopping, Mr. Patterson thrust his handkerchief into the outer
+breast-pocket of his coat in such a fashion that the hem protruded.
+There was silence, broken only by the rushing noise made by the train.
+All at once Rodney Elmore, rising, moved along the carriage and placed
+himself on the seat immediately in front of his uncle.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IX
+
+                              THE SECOND
+
+
+Mr. Patterson glared at his nephew as if he had been guilty of a gross
+liberty in placing himself where he had done--indeed, he said as much.
+
+"Go back to your own end of the carriage at once, you young scoundrel.
+How dare you come so close to me? Isn't it sufficient contamination to
+have to breathe the air of the same compartment, without being
+polluted by your immediate neighbourhood?"
+
+Rodney was not at all abashed, nor did he show any sign of an
+intention to return whence he came. On the contrary, leaning a little
+forward, he smiled at his uncle blandly.
+
+"Softly, sir, softly! If you allow yourself to become excited you may
+do yourself a mischief--excitement is the worst possible thing for
+you."
+
+"None of your insolence, you young hound; don't you think I'll allow
+you to be insolent to me! Are you going back to the other end of the
+carriage?"
+
+"No, sir; I am not."
+
+"Then----"
+
+Mr. Patterson made as if to move, then checked himself. Rodney asked:
+
+"What were you going to do?"
+
+"If you don't go back to the other end of the carriage at once I'll
+pull the communication cord and stop the train."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"I'll give you into custody before the whole trainful of passengers."
+
+"Into whose custody?"
+
+"The guard will take charge of you till we get to a station; he won't
+let you go till he has seen you safe in the hands of a policeman. You
+won't have a chance of running; you'll sleep in gaol tonight. Are you
+going back to your own seat?"
+
+"I propose to remain where I am."
+
+"Then I'll stop the train!"
+
+He made as if to do as he said, but Rodney, rising first, laid his
+hand upon his shoulder to such effect that he found himself unable to
+move. Indignation brought back the purple to Mr. Patterson's face.
+
+"You dare to touch me? You infernal young villain--take away your
+hand!"
+
+"I don't intend to allow you to touch the communication cord."
+
+"You don't intend! We'll see about that."
+
+They did see, on the instant. The black knob of the alarm bell was
+over the centre seat in front of Mr. Patterson. Putting out his
+strength, evading Rodney's grip, he gained his feet. Elmore took him
+by the shoulders with both his hands. There was a scuffle--sharp, but
+brief. For a moment it looked as if the elder man might be a match for
+the younger, but for a moment only. On a sudden Mr. Patterson
+collapsed on to his seat as if the stiffening had gone all out of him
+and left him but a mass of boneless pulp. He could only gasp out
+words.
+
+"You shall smart for this!"
+
+"If you're not very careful, sir, you'll smart first--my dear uncle."
+
+"Don't you call me your dear uncle."
+
+"My dear uncle."
+
+"Damn you, you----"
+
+A flood of vituperation poured from the elder man's lips, which, when
+he had finished, left him an even darker shade of purple. Rodney never
+ceased to smile. So soon as the flood had stopped he repeated the
+endearing form of address.
+
+"My dear uncle"--Mr. Patterson was panting, for the moment he was
+speechless--"turn and turn about's fair play, and fair play's a jewel.
+You've had your say, now I'm going to have mine--you'll find mine as
+interesting as I found yours. To begin with, I'm going to ask you one
+or two questions."
+
+"I'll answer no questions of yours."
+
+"Oh, yes, you will, when you find what they are. In the first place,
+am I to understand that you are really serious--weigh your words, my
+dear uncle!--in saying that you'd tell Gladys--what you said you'd
+tell her?"
+
+"So soon as I get home I'll tell her everything--everything--about
+you, and your rascally father, too."
+
+"Will you?"
+
+"I will--as sure as you are living!"
+
+"So surely as that? And are you prepared to take your oath that you'll
+take out that warrant you were speaking of, or--was that intended for
+a jest?"
+
+"Oath! I'll take no oath to you--you Nature's gaol-bird! But of this I
+assure you, you'll sleep in a prison cell to-night, and many and many
+another night to come."
+
+Mr. Patterson, dragging the silk handkerchief from his breast pocket,
+used it to wipe away the perspiration which again bedewed his brow.
+
+"Shall I?"
+
+"You will."
+
+"Oh, no, I won't; nor will you tell Gladys those unkind things about
+me and my father."
+
+"Who the devil's going to stop me?"
+
+"I'm the devil who's going to stop you."
+
+Rodney was leaning a little forward. His uncle stopped in the process
+of wiping his brow to stare at him, as if there were something in his
+manner which struck him as peculiar. About the young gentleman's lips
+was the same easy, unconcerned smile which had been there all the
+time; there was a smile also in his eyes--it was, apparently, this
+latter which gave him the odd expression which had struck his uncle.
+Mr. Patterson glanced about him as if in search of something he would
+have liked to find. Rodney sat perfectly still. As he put a query to
+him his uncle's pursy lips showed a tendency to twitch.
+
+"How are you going to stop me?"
+
+"Can't you guess how I am going to stop you?"
+
+"I can do nothing of the kind. You can't stop me, or anyone. I am
+going to do my duty to my daughter and to society, and nothing can
+stop me."
+
+"You know better than that. From something which has just come upon
+your face I can see that already you know better."
+
+Mr. Patterson gave what he doubtless meant to be a spring towards the
+alarm bell opposite; but, for reasons which were beyond his control,
+his movements were slower than they should have been--the younger man
+was much too quick for him. Gripping him again by both his shoulders,
+exerting greater strength than on the first occasion, he forced him
+back upon his seat with a degree of violence which seemed to drive the
+sense half out of him. As Rodney, remaining on his feet, stood
+towering above him, one perceived more clearly that his was the build
+of the athlete, and how great were the probabilities, if they came to
+grips, that the big man would be helpless in his hands. He addressed
+his uncle as an elder person might have spoken to a mutinous child.
+
+"My dearest uncle--you really must permit me to lay stress upon your
+avuncular relationship on what will probably be my last chance of
+doing so--you are not going to pull the alarm bell, you are not going
+to stop the train. You have no more chance of doing either than you
+have of flying to the moon, so get that into your drink-sodden brain.
+Nor are you going to libel me to Gladys, nor commit me to the mercy of
+a ruthless police. Presently you will see that as clearly as I do
+now."
+
+Rodney resumed his seat, still keeping his glance fixed on his uncle,
+in whose demeanour a change seemed to have taken place which was both
+mental and physical. Possibly his nephew had used more violence than
+he supposed. The vigour had gone all out of him; inert, he stared at
+Rodney with bloodshot eyes, as if drink had taken sudden effect and
+bemused his brain. The young man's smile became more pronounced, as if
+he found the singularity of the other's appearance amusing. The tone
+of his voice, when he spoke, was genial and pleasant.
+
+"My dear uncle, if you, the only relative I have in the world, had
+treated me, when first I entered your office, as you might have been
+expected to do, I might have become an affectionate and worthy
+nephew."
+
+"Not you. You started robbing me before you'd been in the place a
+week."
+
+"Is that so? So soon as that? Perhaps you have never known what it is
+to be in want of ready cash."
+
+"When I was eighteen I was keeping myself on fifty pounds a year, for
+which I was working anything up to sixteen hours a day."
+
+"Indeed! It might have been better if that period of your life had
+lasted longer. You wouldn't have been in the rotten condition you
+are."
+
+"What's the matter with my condition? I never had a day's illness in
+my life."
+
+"My dear uncle, if you weren't in a rotten condition you'd have rung
+that alarm bell before this, wouldn't you? But, although it's only
+within a foot or two, you'll never ring it--never, because you are
+rotten."
+
+Mr. Patterson glanced towards the black knob. Rodney shook his head.
+
+"It's no good, uncle. You won't be able to get at it--you know that.
+What an illustration you are of the desirability of keeping oneself
+fit! It seems that from the first you kept a sharper eye on me than I
+suspected."
+
+"I'm not the fool you took me for."
+
+"Aren't you? That remains to be seen. Do you think that it was the
+part of wisdom to threaten me as you have been doing when you and I
+were alone together in a compartment of a railway train which doesn't
+stop, at least, till it gets to Croydon?"
+
+"I've not been threatening you; I wouldn't condescend. I've only been
+telling you what you may expect."
+
+"That's all; and by doing so you've made the issue a simple one. If
+you reach town alive, to all intents I shall be dead; whereas, if you
+reach town dead, I--shall be on velvet, because you see, my dear
+uncle, I'm Gladys' lover; and she loves me, if possible, even more
+than I do her. I've proofs of it. Since she is your only child, when
+you are dead everything you have will be hers, which is tantamount to
+saying that it will be mine, which is just what I should like. So you
+will at once perceive how--from every point of view--very much to my
+advantage it would be that you should be dead."
+
+"You young hell-hound! Unfortunately for you, I'm not dead, and I'm
+not likely to die."
+
+"Oh, yes, you are, very likely--unfortunately for you. You told me
+that my father only found one way to escape trouble--suicide. You
+hinted in your most affectionate manner that some time, in my turn, I
+might only find one way. Your kindly hint made such an impression on
+me that I actually made preparations, so that I might never be at a
+loss if ever that time should come. Those preparations are contained
+in this dainty little box."
+
+Rodney took from his waistcoat pocket what might have passed as a
+silver needle-case or receptacle for pins. He held it out in front of
+his uncle, who was as much moved by the sight of it as if it had been
+some object of horror.
+
+"You--you're not going to make away with yourself before my eyes?
+You--you don't suppose I'll let you do it?"
+
+"How would you propose to stop me?"
+
+Again Mr. Patterson mopped his brow with his silk handkerchief of many
+colours. He presented a pitiable spectacle. His lips twitched, his
+hand trembled, and his whole huge frame seemed to shiver like a mass
+of jelly. His voice was broken and husky, he stammered in his speech.
+
+"Elmore, you--you're quite right; I'm--I'm not very well. I--I've had
+a great deal to put up with lately, and it's unhinged me. Give me that
+infernal thing you've got there--I don't know what is in it, or if
+you're playing a trick with me, but--you give it me."
+
+"I'm going to--shortly."
+
+The young man's airy self-possession was in almost painful contrast to
+the elder's agitation. He glanced at his watch, holding the slender,
+round case between the finger and thumb of his other hand.
+
+"Nearly half-past nine. What was that station we passed? Was it
+Hayward's Heath? I fancy we do stop at Croydon, so that there's not
+much time to spare. I'm going to act on your suggestion, uncle--with a
+difference. I am not going to commit suicide, but you are!"
+
+"I am?--you young fool!--what do you mean?"
+
+"In fact, you practically have committed suicide already."
+
+"The man's mad."
+
+"Possibly--but not on this particular point. When you told me in such
+very coarse language what I might expect, you practically committed
+suicide, as--I'm about to prove. You remember the case of the eminent
+financier who, within five minutes of being sentenced to a long term
+of penal servitude, was in a room which was immediately outside the
+court in which he had received his sentence, from which he was
+instantly to be haled to gaol, under the very noses of his warders
+slipped something between his lips and--escaped. You will probably
+remember the case better than I do, since at the time I was only a
+boy; yet I have studied it to such purpose that within this pretty
+little box are--shall we call them tabloids?--which are in all
+essentials identical with the one he swallowed. They kill as by a
+flash of lightning. Whoever has one of these within his reach no man
+shall stay him from--escaping. You are going to swallow one of these
+tabloids, uncle--this one."
+
+Unscrewing the top of his silver box, Rodney removed the cap, and took
+from it what looked like a small peppermint lozenge, holding it up
+between his finger and thumb.
+
+"You see, uncle--this one; as it were, death reduced to its lowest
+possible denomination."
+
+At that moment Rodney seemed to be exercising over his uncle some of
+the fabulous qualities attributed to the serpent. Beyond doubt Mr.
+Patterson recognised with sufficient vividness that this young man in
+front of him was much more dangerous than he had supposed; that he had
+underrated his capacity for evil; that he might as well have shut
+himself in with a tiger as with his sister's son. But the recognition
+came too late. The very force of it had the effect of destroying his
+few remaining powers of volition. In face of the deadly purpose with
+which he perceived that his nephew was filled, he was as one
+paralysed. He could only grow purpler and purpler, and splutter.
+
+"Don't--don't you play any of your infernal tricks on me, you--you
+villain! Curse it, why can't I get at that bell!" He made as if to
+rise, but, seemingly, was as incapable of movement as if he had been
+glued to his seat. As if conscious that his peril was imminent, he
+raised his voice to a raucous scream.
+
+"Don't--don't you dare to lay your hands on me! Don't--don't you dare
+to touch me! Help!"
+
+As the uncle opened his mouth to cry for aid the nephew caught him by
+the throat and slipped between his lips the tiny white lozenge which
+he had taken from the silver box. Then he struck up his jaw with a
+click and held it shut, so that he could not put it out again. Forcing
+back his head, he gripped him tight. His uncle was seized with a
+convulsion which seemed to Rodney as if it must have shaken the
+carriage. Almost at the same instant it was as if all vitality had
+gone clean out of him. The nephew was gripping a limp corpse.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER X
+
+                        IN THE CARRIAGE--ALONE
+
+
+Graham Patterson, in the agony of that last convulsion, had nearly
+slipped off the seat, so that, with a very little, he would be on the
+floor. His nephew, who hitherto had not for a moment lost his presence
+of mind, and who kept it then, was at a loss. Would such an attitude
+be recognised as proper for a suicide? Would, that is, a doctor--any
+doctor--be prepared to assert that a man who had killed himself with
+potassium cyanide might, under the circumstances, quite conceivably
+die in such an attitude, or assume it after death? To Rodney's
+supernaturally keen vision there were trifles about his uncle's
+appearance which scarcely marked this as inevitably a case of suicide.
+The collar was a little crumpled; the tie a little disarranged; he
+even fancied that there were prints of his fingers on the skin of
+the throat. He was conscious that he had gripped him with great
+force--perhaps a little clumsily; he certainly ought to have avoided
+contact with the collar and the tie, but no doubt the prints would
+wear off. Indeed, as he bent closer he was not sure that they did not
+exist only in his imagination; the light was not good; he could not
+be certain. With dexterous fingers he smoothed the collar, he
+rearranged the tie--so deftly that he felt convinced that no one
+would notice that anything had been wrong with him. He raised the
+body a little, so that it was in what seemed to him to be a more
+natural position, on the edge of the seat; he felt that it would
+look better. He was surprised to find how heavy his uncle was--it
+required quite an effort on his part to lift him.
+
+He turned the contents of the silver box on to his hand. There were
+seven tiny lozenges. He returned three to the box, and laid it on the
+seat; the other four he placed beside it. Taking an envelope out of an
+inner pocket of his jacket, he tore off a corner. In it he placed the
+four tabloids, carefully folded it, and put it in his waistcoat
+pocket. Then he balanced the cap of the box on the arm of the seat
+beside his uncle; the box itself he placed between the fingers of his
+uncle's left hand, with--in it--the other three tabloids. So tightly
+were the fingers clenched that Rodney had to use force to open them
+sufficiently to enable him to insert the box. Then, seating himself
+opposite, he looked his uncle carefully over with an artist's eye for
+detail. In his present attitude, with that open box with its tell-tale
+contents held tightly between his stiffened fingers, it seemed to
+Rodney that a coroner would be bound to instruct his jury that suicide
+was the only possible explanation of Graham Patterson's death. Having
+satisfied himself on which point, he withdrew to the opposite end of
+the carriage, being, in spite of himself, conscious of a feeling that
+the dead man's too immediate neighbourhood was not a thing to be
+desired.
+
+Seated in his original place, he took out his white cambric
+handkerchief, and with it delicately wiped his fingers, having an
+uncomfortable notion that something disagreeable had adhered to them
+which it would be better to remove. Then he set himself to consider
+the position. A great smoker of cigarettes, absent-mindedly and as a
+matter of course he took out his case, and was about to light one when
+it occurred to him that it might be a dangerous thing to do. It was
+not a smoking carriage; if, when the discovery was made, it smelt
+strongly of smoke--and nothing lingers like a cigarette--it might be
+shown that his uncle had not been smoking, and the question might
+arise--who had? He returned the case to his pocket. As he did so the
+train rushed past a signal-box. He remembered reading of the strange
+things which signalmen see in trains as they rushed past them. When
+his uncle was found, exhaustive inquiries would be set on foot. Quite
+conceivably some signalman had seen them struggling, or something
+which had piqued his curiosity as it had caught his eye. His uncle
+would be found alone. The signalman's story might suggest that at one
+period of the journey someone had been in the carriage with him. What
+had become of that someone? The mere question might start a hue and
+cry. Rodney recalled, with quite a little sense of shock, that his
+uncle had been partly pushed into the carriage by an official on the
+Brighton platform. Graham Patterson was a noticeable-looking person;
+he must have presented a striking spectacle as he had come hurrying
+along the platform. When discovery came about, the official would
+recollect the incident and recognise him beyond a doubt.
+
+Had he noticed that somebody was already in the carriage when he was
+thrusting the fat man in? Rodney was compelled to admit that the
+probabilities were that he had. So far as he himself was concerned,
+Rodney recalled the whole sequence of events. How he had rushed up to
+the ticket inspector just as the Pullman was moving; how the man,
+slamming the gate in his face, had informed him that another train was
+due to start in ten minutes. The young gentleman had a suspicion that
+the fellow had looked him up and down as he was explaining. There were
+others about who might also have looked him up and down. Rodney had an
+uneasy feeling that, in his way, he was perhaps as noticeable a figure
+as his uncle--so tall, so upright, so well groomed, so handsome, with
+something about his appearance which almost amounted to an air of
+distinction. He had walked a few paces to another platform, as
+directed; the man at the gate, in his turn, had looked him up and down
+as he clipped his ticket; he had strolled leisurely along the
+platform, which he had had almost entirely to himself; when he reached
+a carriage which he thought would suit him, he stood for a second or
+two at the open door--as he remembered, right in front of the official
+who, later, had helped his uncle in.
+
+He sat up very straight as that little fact came back to him. He
+remembered very well eyeing the man, whom, certainly, he would know
+again anywhere. No doubt the man had eyed him, and had his likeness in
+his mind's eye. The fellow had seen him enter the compartment and shut
+the door; a few minutes later he had opened the door again to admit
+his uncle, well knowing that he was already within. The accident might
+prove very awkward for the nephew later on; no one could have
+appreciated the possibilities of the position more clearly than he
+did.
+
+As he pondered the matter he was inclined to think that he had made a
+mistake in doing what he had done. Such a fuss is made about a thing
+of that sort that, in any event, one runs a risk. Had he had more time
+to appreciate exactly what would be the nature of the risk in his own
+case he might have--hesitated. If he had he would have been deposed
+from his cousin's good graces, and--to adopt her sire's rather
+melodramatic language--have been "branded as a felon," so that he
+would not have been much better off. Looking at it philosophically the
+result of what he had done was this: that whereas, if he had let his
+uncle have his own way, ruin was certain, as things were he had at
+least a fighting chance of postponing the evil day--perhaps to an
+indefinite period. More; in the meanwhile he could have a rattling
+good time. And he would have it. He smiled as he made himself that
+promise.
+
+All the same, though he smiled, he realised that if he proposed to
+have a good time he must not continue to take his ease where he
+was--with his uncle on the seat at the other end. If he seriously
+wished the world to take it for granted that Graham Patterson had
+committed suicide, he must not be found in the same compartment. That
+was sure. He had been told by someone, or had read somewhere, that
+every express train, though assumed to be "non-stopping," stopped at
+least once, because a signal was against it, or at least slowed down
+sufficiently to enable an agile passenger, with safety, to alight. So
+far that train had neither stopped nor slowed. His watch told him
+that it was about twenty to ten--ten minutes ago his uncle had been
+alive. It seemed longer ago than that. He had a fair knowledge of
+the line by daylight; it was different at night. Objects--even
+stations--were difficult to distinguish. He peered through the open
+window without thrusting out his head. They seemed to be running
+through open country, possibly on the top of the ballast. He could
+make out lights, though they were few and far between; they seemed to
+be passing a number of trees, with a big building beyond. They
+crashed through a station--it was Earlswood; they had just passed
+Earlswood Asylum. Immediately they would be on the new part of the
+line, which avoids the South-Eastern station at Redhill. There was no
+station between this and Purley. He might leave the train anywhere
+with comparative safety if it would only slow a little. To attempt to
+alight while it was moving at that rate through the darkness would be
+equivalent to committing suicide. At the best he could not hope to
+avoid serious injury. He must wait--till it slowed.
+
+The whistle on the engine sounded; the train began to slow. Instantly
+he was leaning forward, his fingers on the handle, which was inside
+the door. The train slowed still more; it entered a tunnel, slowing
+all the while; in the heart of the tunnel it stopped--dead. The gods
+were on his side. Yet not for an instant did he lose his presence of
+mind. The signal was against them--that was why they had stopped. Was
+it on the left or the right? On the signal side the guard would
+possibly have his head out of the carriage with an eye for it;
+possibly some of the passengers might be observing it also. It would
+be fatal to get out on that side; his door would be seen opening; he
+might be seen to alight; he would be jumping out of the frying-pan
+into the fire; all sorts of consequences might accrue. He looked out
+of his own window; there was no signal in front or behind. Then it was
+on the other side, on the left, against the wall of the tunnel. He
+looked on to the six-foot way. He could see the whole length of the
+train; not a sign of a head at any of the windows. He had already
+turned the handle, opening the door just wide enough he stepped on to
+the footboard, closed the door, and dropped on to the permanent way.
+He had left his uncle to continue his journey alone. Lest his
+upstanding figure might be visible to someone, he crouched as close as
+he could to the ground. The train began to move very slowly. The door
+of the compartment next to that which he had just left was opened, a
+figure came on to the footboard, closed the door, sprang on to the
+ballast while the train was already in motion. For a moment Rodney was
+the victim of a gruesome delusion; to him it was as if the door of his
+own compartment had been opened; as if Graham Patterson had alighted
+at his side. He pressed the tips of his fingers into his palms to keep
+himself from exclaiming.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XI
+
+                             THE STRANGER
+
+
+The train went slowly rumbling by; who looked out of the windows
+Rodney neither knew nor cared. He was conscious of the guard's van
+passing, then the train had gone. He could see the tail lights moving
+quicker and quicker through the darkness. He himself continued
+motionless. He had realised by now that it was not his uncle who had
+alighted; that it was the door of the next compartment which had been
+opened. He could not believe that his own movements had been observed.
+He doubted if they could have been seen by a person who had not
+actually got his head out at the moment--even by his next door
+neighbour. He was certain that no head had been out. The thing had
+been a coincidence--a strange one, but nothing more. Someone also had
+reasons for wishing to quit the train in an unusual manner; someone
+who was unaware that he was out already. The chances were that he had
+not been noticed; that, if he kept quite still, he would not be
+noticed. The stranger would blunder along without ever becoming
+cognisant of his near neighbourhood; whichever way the stranger went,
+he would go the other.
+
+Now that the train had left, it was very still in the tunnel; the air
+was close, full of smoke, which was bad both for the throat and the
+eyes. Something had dropped once or twice on Rodney's shoulder. He had
+heard that it was sometimes damp in tunnels; possibly it was moisture
+dropping from the brickwork overhead. He would have liked to move so
+as to avoid it, but was reluctant to make a sound--till the stranger
+had moved. He wondered what the stranger was doing; silence continued
+for what seemed to him to be a preternatural length of time. Possibly,
+less fortunate than himself, the stranger had been hurt in alighting,
+which explained the stillness. If that were so, his own position might
+be difficult. If he moved first the stranger might claim his help,
+might make a fuss if he refused it--such a fuss that the fact that he
+had left the train would be discovered.
+
+Still not a sound. Momentarily the situation was becoming more
+delicate. He could not remain crouched down like that for ever, with
+big drops of something falling on to his shoulder. What should he do?
+The question was answered for him.
+
+"Caught you!"
+
+The words were whispered close to his ear. He stood straight up
+suddenly, startled half out of his wits. His impulse was to
+fly--anywhere, anyhow. Then that wonderful presence of mind of his,
+which never left him long, came back; he realised that haste on his
+part might involve disaster. He stood bolt upright, quite still, with
+fists clenched, prepared for anything.
+
+Something came; fingers were laid upon his coat-sleeve. He showed no
+sign of resenting their coming, their touch was so soft that it hardly
+suggested danger. A voice came to him through the darkness, the one
+which had so startled him by whispering in his ear.
+
+"That was a capital idea of yours--capital."
+
+To Rodney's acute sense of hearing there seemed to be a curious
+quality in the voice; he was not sure if it belonged to a man or a
+woman. It came again.
+
+"Have you ever been in a tunnel before? I haven't."
+
+The last two words were spoken with a snigger which was certainly a
+man's, though he still felt that the voice itself might be either
+masculine or feminine. He had a fastidious taste in voices; apart from
+the circumstances under which he heard it, that one affected him
+unpleasantly. It continued, and his distaste grew.
+
+"Do you know that our getting out here in the tunnel has proved
+something which I have always held as an article of faith; that I have
+cat's eyes--positively? Isn't it droll? I can see you--not plainly,
+but sufficiently well. Now I dare say you can't see me at all!"
+
+Rodney could not; he did not believe that the stranger could see him.
+Darkness was about them like a wall.
+
+"Come!"
+
+He felt the fingers which had rested on his sleeve slipped under his
+arm.
+
+"I will guide you; let me turn you round. We will go this way, towards
+the signal. You see?--it is set at danger. Some people would say that
+we are in rather a dangerous position."
+
+Again that unpleasantly sounding snigger.
+
+"I hope you're not feeling nervous; you needn't. That signal is not
+far off, and when we reach it we are out in the open. I know exactly
+where we are; this is Redhill tunnel. Not only can I see in the dark,
+dimly, but still see, but I also have, in a curious degree, the bump
+of locality. With me it amounts almost to an additional sense. I
+always know where I am, even when I am in a strange place; in a place
+in which I have been before I have an incredible perception of my
+surroundings. For three years I lived quite close to this--in
+Earlswood Asylum, as a patient."
+
+Earlswood Asylum! Then the creature was a lunatic. That explained the
+singularity of his voice, of his manner, his proceedings. An idea came
+into Rodney's head. The creature was small; he felt, as he moved
+beside him with his hand under his arm, that he probably did not reach
+to his shoulder. It would be easy to leave him in the tunnel. Who
+cares what happens to a lunatic?
+
+"I shouldn't if I were you; it wouldn't pay."
+
+The words were so apposite that, despite himself, Rodney started. He
+had not spoken. Could the creature read what was passing through his
+brain?
+
+"There are times when I can read people's thoughts just as plainly
+as if they had spoken them out loud, even when I can't see their
+faces--really! Isn't it odd? Oh, I am quite gifted. My argument always
+has been that, in a general way, a lunatic is merely abnormal, nothing
+more. At intervals a cloud settles on my brain; I can see, I can
+feel it coming; then, for an indefinite period, I am on the lap
+of the gods. When it passes my senses are more acute than other
+people's--abnormally acute, I know it as a fact. Now you see, as I
+told you, we are out in the open--look! the stars are shining. Look
+back at the tunnel; isn't it a horror of blackness? Like the horror I
+know. If we scramble up that bank we shall probably find a gap in the
+hedge at the top; platelayers often do leave a gap in a hedge close
+to the wall of a tunnel that they may descend to the line. As I told
+you, here's our gap; now, over the fence, and the rest is easy
+sailing."
+
+It seemed to Rodney that since he had quitted the train something must
+have happened to him mentally; it was as if, all at once, he were
+playing a part in a dream. In silence, without offering the least
+remonstrance, he had suffered the stranger to pilot him out of the
+tunnel, up the steep bank beyond--to dominate him wholly. Now, except
+that they seemed to be standing in an open space of considerable size,
+he had not the dimmest notion of their whereabouts; but to the
+stranger it all seemed plain.
+
+"That big building on our right's an orphanage--St. Anne's; I believe
+we're on their ground. If we keep straight on to our left we shall
+come to the high road, from which it is only a few minutes to Redhill
+station, whence we shall continue our journey to town. Quite an
+interesting episode this has been, has it not? I am indebted to you
+for much entertainment. I have seldom had so much enjoyment in a
+train, Mr. Elmore."
+
+The creature knew his name! How? Who was he? What did it mean? Again
+he was conscious of an impulse to take him by the throat and--resolve
+the question in his own fashion. How came the creature to know his
+name? Although he had uttered no articulate sound, he had his answer.
+
+"The explanation is simple, explanations often are. I heard your uncle
+address you by your name in a most audible tone of voice just towards
+the close. Most people have no idea how thin the partition really is
+which divides one compartment from another. Do you know I have heard
+that in some instances it is made of papier-mâché--fancy! You can
+always hear if a conversation is taking place in an adjoining
+compartment--it is surprising how much you can hear if you try,
+especially if your hearing is as good as mine is--that's another of my
+gifts. I had my ear glued to the partition most of the time. Of
+course, I could not hear everything--and I should very much have liked
+to see, but I gathered enough to enable me to form a general idea,
+particularly when you began to use violence towards your uncle and to
+hurl him back into his seat--it amounted to hurling. You see, I was
+his side. And, of course, when you both raised your voices I could
+hear a very great deal. I was not in the least surprised at the
+silence which followed. I understood--oh, I understood! At least, I
+think I understood. It was perfectly plain that only one person was
+left in the compartment who counted, and, of course, I knew that was
+you. I said to myself: 'Now, I wonder how long he'll stay there all
+alone? He's sure to take advantage of the first opportunity of getting
+out if the train stops or slows, and if he gets out I'll get out too.'
+Wasn't it lucky that it stopped in a tunnel, and that, therefore, we
+were both of us able to get out without being observed? Quite a stroke
+of fortune! Here we are, right on the high road, with the station a
+little more than a stone's throw in front of us."
+
+Rodney listened to what the stranger had to say as, side by side, they
+tramped across the uneven ground with feelings which he would not have
+found it easy to clothe with words. Beyond all doubt this was a
+lunatic; but of what an uncomfortable kind! He had been wiser to have
+acted on his first impulse and to have left him in the tunnel. Now it
+was too late; it would not be the same thing to--leave him there. Yet,
+if he continued in his company, how should he muzzle him? With what
+would he make him dumb? By what means could he keep him from blurting
+out the whole story to the first person they might meet? Once more,
+though he had uttered not a syllable, there came an answer.
+
+"You run no risk of my blabbing, I am not that kind of person--at
+least, while the cloud is yet afar off. Afterwards, believe me, no one
+pays any heed to what I say. I play the part of audience only. I am
+not, like you, one of Nature's criminals; but I am indifferent, which
+is about the same. What A does to B is A's business and B's, not mine;
+that I always shall maintain. Here we are at the station. It's been
+altered since my time; they've given it a new front. When is the next
+train to town?"
+
+He put the question quite naturally to a porter who was standing
+about.
+
+"Ten-forty; nearly half an hour to wait--that is if she is punctual,
+which she's not always of a Sunday night."
+
+The stranger addressed himself to Elmore.
+
+"That, perhaps, is fortunate, since that will enable me to offer you a
+little refreshment, of which I dare say both of us stand in need."
+
+Rodney, always speechless, walked beside the stranger to the
+refreshment bar. Now he could see him plainly. A notion which had been
+fluttering at the back of his head took flight; there was no
+suggestion of a detective police official about him. He was shorter
+even than he had imagined, probably scarcely over five feet high; a
+mean-looking, ill-shapen fellow, with one shoulder higher than the
+other, which gave him an appearance of being one-sided. Badly dressed
+in an ill-fitting suit of rusty dark-grey tweed, clumsily shod, tie
+disarranged, doubtful collar, old tweed hat shaped like a billycock,
+about him the air of one who was not over fond of soap and water.
+Probably between fifty and sixty, a round, hairless, wizened face, all
+wrinkles, flat, snub nose, curiously small mouth--Rodney wondered if
+the peculiarity of his voice was owing to its coming through so
+small an aperture; queer, big, oval, ugly eyes--small pupils floating
+in a sea of yellow. The young gentleman was conscious of what an
+ill-assorted couple they must appear. He would have liked very much to
+put a termination to the association then and there, but--he could
+not, it was too late.
+
+The stranger on his part seemed sublimely unaware of there being
+anything odd in their companionship. He gave his order to the young
+lady on the other side of the counter.
+
+"One brandy, two Scotch whiskies, and a small soda divided."
+
+The young lady looked as if she was not quite sure that she had caught
+what he said.
+
+"I beg your pardon."
+
+"I said one brandy, two Scotch whiskies, and a small soda divided.
+You've quite right, there are only two of us; I take brandy and whisky
+together--I'm a lunatic."
+
+Two young men at the other end, with whom the young lady had been
+talking, looked at each other and smiled. The young lady also smiled,
+under the apparent impression that, somewhere, there was a joke.
+
+"It is rather unusual, isn't it?"
+
+"Not at all--with lunatics."
+
+It was not easy for standers-by to decide whether or not he was in
+earnest. Rodney was in doubt; indeed, the man's words and manner
+started him wondering to what extent, in all he had been saying, the
+fellow had been "pulling his leg."
+
+The young lady passed three glasses to their side of the counter. The
+stranger, taking two, emptied one into the other. He held it up
+towards Rodney.
+
+"Your very good health, and the next time we meet may you afford me as
+much entertainment."
+
+Swallowing the contents of the glass at a single gulp, he replaced it
+on the counter.
+
+"The same again, miss; one brandy, one Scotch whisky; lunatics don't
+take long over a drop like that."
+
+She looked at him doubtfully for a moment; then gave him what he
+ordered, saying, as she passed him the glasses:
+
+"Two shillings, please."
+
+As again he emptied one into the other he nodded to Rodney.
+
+"Pay her; I've no money--lunatics never have."
+
+Rodney drank what was in his glass, placed a florin on the counter,
+and left the place without a word. Hardly had he reached the door when
+he found the little man again at his side. He commenced pacing up and
+down the dimly lit platform; the little man paced also, two of his
+short steps being the equivalent of one of Rodney's strides. He asked
+himself if he could do nothing to shake the fellow off; with his usual
+singular intuition the other replied to his unspoken thought.
+
+"Not nice, being in the company of one who knows as much as I do?
+Perhaps not; yet I don't see why. I'm incapable of giving evidence; if
+I weren't I wouldn't say a word to spoil the fun; I am as good as a
+dead man. You'll have a dead man for constant companion--why not me?"
+
+Again he gave vent to the snigger which so jarred on the young man's
+nerves. When the train entered the station they were still pacing to
+and fro; Rodney not having yet uttered a single word. The little man
+followed him into the empty first-class compartment which he had
+selected, saying as he drew the door to behind him:
+
+"Isn't it confiding of me to trust myself alone in a carriage with
+you--after what has happened? But I am not in the least afraid. I am
+sure you won't care to repeat your experiment to-night. And I shall
+find it so amusing to sit and watch you, and see what is passing
+through your mind; because, do you know, it will all be just as plain
+to me as if you said everything aloud."
+
+While crediting the stranger with unusual perceptive powers, Rodney
+doubted if in his assertion he did not go too far. If he had the
+dimmest insight into the tangled network of thought with which the
+young man's brain was filled, then he was a marvel indeed. Elmore,
+leaning back in his seat, remained perfectly still, with his face
+towards the window, to all outward seeming as oblivious of the other's
+presence and occasional remarks as if he were not there. When they
+reached Croydon a person approached the carriage window whom the
+stranger plainly recognised; a pleasant-faced, brown-skinned and
+brown-haired young man with a slight moustache, with something in his
+bearing and expression which suggested reserve. Coming into the
+carriage, he said to the stranger, as he sat beside him, half
+smilingly, half chidingly:
+
+"So it is you, is it? I hope you've enjoyed your little trip."
+
+The stranger seemed to regard his coming with an air of not altogether
+pleased surprise.
+
+"You're a most extraordinary man."
+
+The other replied:
+
+"One has to be a little that way if one is responsible for you."
+
+The new-comer's good-humoured curtness seemed to disturb the
+stranger's equilibrium.
+
+"Responsible for me, indeed! Upon my word, you are the most
+extraordinary man."
+
+In his own fashion the stranger introduced the new-comer to Rodney.
+
+"This is Dr. Emmett, my medical attendant. I left him behind me in
+Brighton because I am sick and tired of his society; yet here he is at
+Croydon before I am. How he does these things I do not understand.
+He's a most extraordinary man."
+
+Then, also after his own fashion, he made Rodney known to the
+new-comer.
+
+"Emmett, this is a valued friend of mine, whom I have met for the
+first time to-night. I know all about him, except his voice; and, do
+you know, he's never spoken once."
+
+Rodney, observing the new-comer, perceived, from something which was
+in the glance he gave him in exchange for his, that the position had
+altered. Rising, he moved out of the carriage, still without a word.
+The stranger made as if to follow him, but the doctor put out a
+detaining hand. The train started just as Rodney, having gained the
+platform, was closing the door. The last he saw of the interior of the
+compartment was that the stranger seemed to be warmly expostulating
+with his medical attendant. At Redhill Rodney had got into the front
+part of the train--which was for London Bridge--because he felt that
+between the City and Notting Hill he might have an opportunity of
+shaking the stranger off. Now, as the London Bridge coaches glided out
+of the station, he passed to the Victoria half of the train, which
+awaited an engine, lower down the platform. The doctor's fortuitous
+arrival on the scene had saved him, at least temporarily, from what
+might have been a serious predicament.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XII
+
+                             MARKING TIME
+
+
+Rodney Elmore's rooms were within a short distance of Paddington
+Station. As his cab drew up at the house he saw that another hansom
+was already at the door. Since it was past midnight, its presence was
+suggestive; it betokened a visitor. The house being a small one, there
+was only one other lodger besides himself, and he occupied a modest
+"bed-sitting-room" on the upper floor. His instinct told him that the
+visitor was for himself. At that hour on Sunday night the fact was
+portentous. Opening the door with his latch-key, as he stepped inside
+a girl came hastening towards him from a room at the back,
+noiselessly, as if she did not wish to be overheard, rather a pretty
+girl, with fluffy, fair hair. She spoke in a whisper:
+
+"There's someone to see you--a lady. She would wait, although I told
+her I didn't know when you would be in."
+
+"What's her name?"
+
+"She said Miss Patterson."
+
+He understood--he had been making certain mental calculations as he
+came along. No doubt his uncle would have his name and address upon
+him; his identity would be discovered so soon as they searched the
+body. There had been time to carry the news to Russell Square; this
+was the result. Nodding to the fluffy-haired girl, he passed quickly
+into his sitting-room, which was on the left, in the front of the
+house. Gladys was standing by the table. As she came towards him he
+knew by the look which was on her face that his guess had been
+right--that already she knew at least part of the story.
+
+"Where have you been?" she exclaimed. "I thought you were never
+coming."
+
+Taking both her hands in his, he drew her to him.
+
+"My dear child! how could I guess that you were here? What does it
+mean?"
+
+She looked at him with a curious sombre something in her big dark
+eyes, which reminded him of a child who is about to cry. Her lips
+trembled.
+
+"Rodney, dad's dead."
+
+His tone was eager, gentle, sympathetic; instinct with surprise.
+
+"Dead! You--you don't mean it!"
+
+"In the train."
+
+"In the train! What train?"
+
+She told her tale, he listening with interest, anxiety, tenderness,
+which were sufficiently real.
+
+"I was just going to bed."
+
+"Dear, you're shivering. You'd better sit down."
+
+"I'd rather stand--close to you."
+
+He put his arms about her and held her tight. He kissed her.
+"Sweetheart," he whispered. He could feel her trembling; tears were
+beginning to shine in her eyes.
+
+"I was in my bedroom, and--and--I was thinking about you"--about the
+corners of her lips was the queerest little smile--"when there was a
+ringing at the front door. I thought it was dad, who had forgotten his
+key; but they came and told me that there was a gentleman downstairs
+who wished to see me very particularly about my father, and that it
+was most important. So I slipped on a dressing-jacket and went down to
+him. It was someone from the railway company. They had found dad in
+the carriage of a train which had come from Brighton. He was dead--now
+he was at Victoria Station--he had committed suicide."
+
+"Suicide!"
+
+Rodney started; it could not have been better done if his surprise had
+been genuine.
+
+"It's--it's incredible!"
+
+"I can only tell you what the man told me. He said of course there
+would have to be an inquiry, but all the indications pointed at that.
+He had poisoned himself; in his hand they had found a box in which
+were some more of the things with which he had done it."
+
+"I can only say that to me it seems--it does seem impossible. I should
+have said he was the last person to do anything like that."
+
+"You never can tell what sort of person will do a thing like that.
+I once knew a girl who went straight up after dinner to her bedroom
+and--did it; no one ever knew why. I went with the man to Victoria,
+and--saw dad; I've come right on from there. I felt that I couldn't
+go home till I had seen you. I believe I should have stayed here all
+night if you hadn't come."
+
+"You poor little thing!--sweetheart mine!--you only woman in the
+world!"
+
+"You--you will be good to me, Rodney?"
+
+"Never was man better to a woman than I will try to be to you."
+
+"Suppose--suppose dad did it because he was ruined?"
+
+"My dear girl, as you are aware, I was not in your father's
+confidence--still, I am pretty nearly certain that, commercially, it
+will be found that he was all right. Yet, should it turn out that he
+was even worse than penniless, it will not make a mite of difference
+in my love for you."
+
+"You are sure?"
+
+"Absolutely. Aren't you?"
+
+"I do believe you care for me a little, or--I shouldn't be here."
+
+"A little! You--you bad girl; you dearest, sweetest of darlings!
+Between ourselves, if it does turn out that you're no richer than I
+am, I shan't be sorry. He never did want you to have anything to do
+with me. I might have won him over if he had lived; you know, I
+believe he was commencing to like me a little better. I'm not sure
+that I wouldn't sooner have you without his money; I should feel as if
+I were playing the game."
+
+"It will be horrid if he has left nothing; it will perhaps mean a
+scandal, and things are bad enough as they are."
+
+"I see what you have in your mind, but I assure you you need not have
+the slightest fear. I'll stake my own integrity that in all matters of
+business your father had the highest sense of honour. I'll be willing
+to write myself down a rogue if it can be shown that he ever deviated
+in any particular from the highest standard of commercial rectitude."
+
+"I hope you're right."
+
+"I am right, on that point you may rest assured."
+
+"You know, Rodney, you're all I have in the world--now."
+
+The use of the adverb, in that connection, tickled him. The idea that,
+so far as she was concerned, her father ever had been much of a
+personal asset was distinctly funny. However, he allowed no hint of
+how her words struck him to peep out; never a more ardent lover, a
+more present help in the time of a girl's trouble. He escorted her to
+what bade henceforward to be her lonely home in the cab which still
+waited at the door. When he returned to Paddington it was very late.
+As he moved to his bedroom up the darkened staircase a door opened on
+the landing. The fluffy-haired girl looked out. She was in a state of
+considerable _déshabillé_.
+
+"You are late," she whispered. "I thought you never were coming back."
+
+"You goose."
+
+He put his arms about her and kissed her with the calmest proprietary
+air.
+
+"To think that you should be still awake."
+
+"You knew I should sit up; you knew mother wasn't coming back
+to-night, and you said you'd be in early."
+
+She spoke with an air of grievance. He smiled.
+
+"It's been a case of man proposes. I have had many things to contend
+with--all sorts of worries. Now, as I want breakfast early, I'm going
+to bed, and, I hope, to sleep, if you aren't."
+
+"You don't care for me a bit."
+
+He kissed her again.
+
+She waited on him at breakfast, which, as he had forewarned her, he
+had unusually early. She was his landlady's daughter; her name was
+Mabel Joyce. Among his letters was one from Stella Austin. He opened
+it as she placed before him his bacon and eggs; as he glanced at
+Stella's opening lines Miss Joyce talked.
+
+"So you went to Brighton yesterday--by the Pullman, too."
+
+He looked up at her as if surprised.
+
+"Did I? Who told you that?"
+
+"Didn't you?"
+
+"You say I did. Pray, from what quarter did you get your information?"
+
+"Oh, there are plenty of quarters from which I can get
+information--when I like. And your uncle was in Brighton. It doesn't
+look as if he had a very pleasant day there, as he committed suicide
+in the train on the way back to town. I dare say you had a pleasanter
+day than he did."
+
+"I presume you got that information either from this morning's paper
+or else from listening last night outside the door."
+
+"As it happens, I haven't seen a paper, and, as for listening, if you
+don't know I wouldn't do a thing like that it's no use my saying so."
+
+"Then who was your informant?"
+
+"That's my business. There is a little bird which sometimes whispers
+in my ear. Did you come back in the Pullman?"
+
+He replied to her question with another.
+
+"What's the matter with you, Mabel?"
+
+"What should be? Nothing's the matter; I was only thinking that if you
+did, your uncle must have been in the train just behind you. If you'd
+have known what he was doing you'd have felt funny. Still, if you did
+come by the Pullman, considering that it's due at Victoria at ten, and
+yesterday was quite punctual, since you had promised to be in early,
+and knew that I was all alone in the house, I think you might have
+been back before midnight."
+
+He eyed the girl. She was pretty, in a pink-and-white sort of way;
+fonder of him than was good for her. He had never seen her in this
+shrewish mood before.
+
+"My dear Mabel, if I could have got back earlier I would have done so;
+but I couldn't. I was the sufferer, not you."
+
+"I dare say! I suppose that Miss Patterson was your cousin. Are you
+going to marry her?"
+
+"Really! you jump about! How do you suppose a fellow in my position
+can tell whom he's going to marry--on twopence a year?"
+
+"I dare say she's got money, especially now. Since directly she heard
+of her father's death she came tearing round to you, at that time of
+night, it looks as if you ought to marry her if you don't!"
+
+Miss Joyce flounced out of the room. For some moments he sat
+considering her words. Who told her that he went to Brighton, on the
+Pullman? Was it a lucky guess? Hardly; probably someone had seen him.
+People's eyes were everywhere. He would have to be careful what tale
+he told. It was odd how gingerly one had to walk when one was in a
+delicate position; there were so many unseen strings over which one
+might stumble.
+
+As he ate his breakfast he read Stella's letter. It was a girl's first
+letter to her lover; which is apt to be a wonderful production, as in
+this case. He had not supposed that a letter from Stella could have
+stirred him as that one did. It suggested the perfect love which
+casteth out fear. She bared her simple heart to him in perfect trust
+and confidence, showing in every line that, to her, he was both hero
+and king, that man of men,--her husband that was to be. Tears actually
+stood in his eyes as he realised the pathos of it all; how sweet to
+hold such innocence in his arms. He was not sure that he had not been
+over-hasty in concluding that here was no wife for him. The picture
+which, as he read on, quite unwittingly she presented to his mind's
+eye, of the two wandering hand in hand down the vale of years, to the
+goal of venerable old age at the end, moved him to the depths. It was
+sweet to be so trusted; he would have loved to have her with him at
+the breakfast-table then. It was so dear a letter that he kissed it as
+he folded it, and slipped it into the inside pocket of his coat.
+
+Then he set himself to thinking. Part of the point of Stella's letter
+lay in the fact that she expected him to go to her that night, and
+wished him to know all the things she set down in black and white, so
+that they might be able to talk about them when he came. The
+misfortune was that he was not going. He would have liked to
+go--truly. He felt that after what had happened lately an evening
+spent with Stella would be delicious. So strongly did he feel this
+that he cast about in his mind for some means of ensuring himself
+even a few fleeting minutes in her society; but could hit on none.
+Accident might befriend him, but he doubted if Gladys would give
+accident much chance. He had promised that he would go from the
+office straight to her; it might go ill with him if he did not. Once
+with her, she was not likely to let him go again till it was too
+late to think of Stella.
+
+How appease the maiden for her disappointment? He could think of
+nothing but laying stress on the dreadful thing which had happened to
+his uncle, and putting all the blame on that. He had never mentioned
+his cousin to Stella, or to Mary, or to anyone, being of those who, if
+they can help it, do not like their first finger to know what their
+thumb is doing. Stella did not know he had a feminine relative; it
+might be inconvenient to acquaint her with the fact just now; quite
+possibly her soft heart might move her to go and offer the orphaned
+Gladys consolation. He smiled as the droll side of such a possibility
+tickled his sense of humour. Possibly the time might come when the two
+young women would have to know of each other's existence, but--perhaps
+it might be as well to put it off for awhile.
+
+He scribbled a hasty note to Stella, speaking of the rapture her
+letter had given him, and dwelling, in lurid hues, on the tragedy of
+his uncle's end; then suddenly remembered that, from her point of
+view, he ought not to have heard of it. What a number of trifles one
+did have to think of. He had not seen a paper; he did not propose to
+tell her of his trip to Brighton; she had heard nothing of Gladys; she
+might ask some awkward questions as to how he came to know about it so
+early in the day. He tore the note up and made a bonfire of the
+pieces. Then he scribbled another, in which he only spoke of his
+rapture and of the ecstatic longing with which he looked forward to
+seeing her after his office work was done, and of how the intervening
+seconds would go by like leaden hours--he felt that a poetic touch of
+that sort was the least that was required. Then, when he reached the
+office, he might wire her the dreadful tidings in an agitated
+telegram, and, later, in a still more agitated telegram, inform her
+that one awful consequence of the upheaval which had followed the
+hideous tragedy was that he would be unable to come to her to-night.
+The tale would be much more effective told like that. Whatever her
+feelings were, he did not see how a loophole would be left to her to
+lay blame on him.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XIII
+
+                         SPREADING HIS WINGS
+
+
+A disagreeable surprise awaited him when he reached St. Paul's
+Churchyard. Taking it for granted that everything would now belong to
+Gladys, he was prepared to act as her representative and sole
+relative, and, if needs be, carry things off with a high hand--above
+and beyond all else, he was desirous of gaining access to certain
+documents whose existence constituted a peril to him. To that end he
+arrived before his usual time, being conscious that this was an
+occasion on which it might be an advantage to be first on the field.
+To his disgust he found that at least two persons were in front of
+him, and that they were both in what had been his uncle's private
+room. One was Mr. Andrews, the managing man, the other was a
+square-jawed individual, whose blue cheeks pointed to a life-long
+struggle with a refractory beard. He was seated, as one in authority,
+in his uncle's own chair behind his uncle's own table. They were
+busily conversing as Rodney came unannounced into the room, but
+paused to stare at him.
+
+"This," explained Mr. Andrews to the man in the chair, "is Mr. Rodney
+Elmore--the nephew I was telling you about."
+
+There was a lack of deference in the speaker's tone which the young
+gentleman resented, and had resented in silence more than once in the
+days which were past; but the time for silence was gone. He had been
+making up his mind on that point on his way to the City. Recognising,
+from the bearing of the two men in front of him, that a new and,
+as yet, unknown factor bade fair to figure on the scene, with
+characteristic readiness he arrived at an instant resolution. Ignoring
+Andrews, he addressed himself to the man in the chair.
+
+"May I ask, sir, who you are?"
+
+The stranger's penetrating eyes were set deep in his head; he fixed
+them on the young gentleman's face with a steady stare of evident
+surprise. Rodney returned him stare for stare.
+
+"You may ask, young gentleman, and, though I seriously doubt if
+you are entitled to ask, I don't mind telling you. My name is
+Wilkes--Stephen Wilkes; I am your late uncle's legal adviser, and
+am here to safeguard the interests he has left behind."
+
+"Then, Mr. Wilkes, be so good as to get out of that chair."
+
+Mr. Andrews looked at the speaker in shocked amazement.
+
+"Mr. Elmore! You forget yourself! How dare you speak like that to a
+gentleman in Mr. Wilkes's position."
+
+For answer, Rodney turned to the managing man, addressing him as
+curtly and peremptorily as if he had been some menial servant.
+
+"Andrews, leave the room!"
+
+The other's eyes opened still wider; probably he had never been so
+spoken to before, even by his late master in his most irascible moods.
+He drew up his spare and rather bowed figure with what he perhaps
+meant to be a touch of dignity.
+
+"Mr. Elmore, the consequences will be very serious if you talk to me
+like that."
+
+"The consequences will be very serious if you don't obey my orders."
+
+"Your orders?"
+
+"My orders. Are you going to leave the room, or am I to put you out?"
+
+"Steady, young gentleman, steady. I have been your uncle's legal
+adviser for perhaps more years than you have been in the world, and
+am, therefore, intimately acquainted with his wishes. I am here to see
+those wishes carried out. I understand that you occupied a very humble
+position in this office, and, though accident made you his relative,
+you were not in possession of your uncle's confidence. Your position
+is in no way altered by his death, and you have no right to issue what
+you call orders here--emphatically not to Mr. Andrews. If there is any
+question as to who is to leave the room, it is certainly not Mr.
+Andrews who must go, but you."
+
+"Mr. Wilkes, I do not propose to bandy words, and when I have once
+pointed out that you entirely misapprehend the situation on that
+subject I have done. All that Mr. Patterson had is now his daughter's,
+including this business and all that it implies. I am here as Miss
+Patterson's representative."
+
+"Indeed! By whom appointed?"
+
+"By Miss Patterson. I may inform you that Miss Patterson will shortly
+be my wife."
+
+"Is that so? This is news. Since when has that arrangement been made?"
+
+"Your words imply a sneer and an impertinence. That being so, I
+decline to enter into any further details with you beyond a bare
+statement of the fact."
+
+"Are you not taking too much for granted in asserting that everything
+is left to Miss Patterson?"
+
+"I have not a doubt of it; with the exception, possibly, of some small
+legacies. He left a will?"
+
+"He did."
+
+"Is it in your possession?"
+
+"It is."
+
+"Then I must ask you to produce it at once."
+
+"Produce it? To whom?"
+
+"To me. Miss Patterson has instructed me to request you to hand it
+over at once to my keeping."
+
+"Then, if that is so, I am afraid that, for the moment, I have no
+choice but to ignore the young lady's request. I will see Miss
+Patterson."
+
+"Miss Patterson will decline to see you."
+
+"She will decline to see me? On what grounds?"
+
+"It is not necessary that she should state any grounds. Any
+communication you wish to have with Miss Patterson must be through me
+or her solicitor. Do I understand that you finally refuse to do as she
+requests, and hand me her father's will?"
+
+"If you were not a very young man, Mr. Elmore, I should say that you
+were a foolish one; but possibly youth is your extenuation. The will
+will be produced at the proper time, in the proper place, to the
+proper person; it will certainly not be handed to you."
+
+"Then Miss Patterson's solicitor will at once take steps which will
+compel its instant production."
+
+"Miss Patterson's solicitor? You really are a remarkable young man! I
+am Miss Patterson's solicitor. It was her father's wish that I should
+continue to act for her, as I acted for him."
+
+"You will do nothing of the kind. If Mr. Patterson has left any legal
+powers to that effect, his daughter will resort to every process of
+law to effect your removal; your refusal to withdraw will not redound
+to your credit. You say you have been his legal adviser for more years
+than I am old. Mr. Patterson was a bad husband and a bad father. He
+utterly neglected his daughter; he did nothing to show that he had any
+of a parent's natural feelings; although she respected his every wish
+and he had no complaint to make of her, he was wholly indifferent to
+both her welfare and her happiness; he saw as little of her and did as
+little for her as he could. In many respects he was to her both a
+reproach and a shame, the sole object of his existence being his own
+gross physical enjoyment. Without being, perhaps, what is called an
+habitual drunkard, he habitually drank too much, and was frequently
+intoxicated in her presence. He was an evil-liver--with his relations
+with notorious women you are probably better acquainted than I am;
+she, unfortunately, has good reason to know that they were of a
+discreditable kind. To crown an ill-spent career he has taken his own
+life, under circumstances which can hardly fail to be the cause of
+scandal, which may leave a brand on her for the remainder of her life,
+though she is still only a girl. You apparently pride yourself on
+having been confidential adviser to such a man through a great number
+of years. Is it strange, therefore, that she would rather that
+somebody else should advise her? Think it over; you will yourself
+perceive that it is not strange; I am sure that will be the feeling of
+a court of law. Now, Mr. Wilkes, I must again ask you to get out of
+that chair."
+
+"And if I refuse?"
+
+Rodney moved to the other side of the table, took Mr. Wilkes--who was
+not a big man--by either elbow, lifted him as if he were a child, and
+deposited himself on the chair in his place. The solicitor, who had
+made not the slightest show of resistance, stood ruefully rubbing his
+arms.
+
+"I believe you have put both my elbows out of joint, you young
+ruffian."
+
+Rodney was placidity itself.
+
+"Have you never heard of Jiu-jitsu, Mr. Wilkes? You know even better
+than I do that you are a trespasser on these premises, and that a
+trespasser is a person towards whom one is entitled to use all
+necessary force."
+
+Taking a bunch of keys out of his jacket pocket, he inserted one in
+the lock of the drawer which was in front of him. Mr. Wilkes surveyed
+the proceeding with obvious surprise.
+
+"What keys are those?"
+
+"These are my uncle's keys. They were handed to me by Miss Patterson,
+with instructions to go through her father's private papers and
+documents, and so ensure their not being tampered with by persons who
+certainly have not her interest at heart."
+
+"If you take my earnest advice, young gentleman, you will not touch
+anything which is in those drawers. If you are not careful you will go
+too far."
+
+"I will not take your advice, Mr. Wilkes--whether earnest or
+otherwise. I observe, Andrews, that you are still there. There are one
+or two remarks which I wish to make to Mr. Wilkes in private. Once
+more, are you going to leave this room?"
+
+The managing man looked at the lawyer as if for advice and help in the
+moment of his hesitation.
+
+"Perhaps," said Mr. Wilkes, replying to his unspoken question, "you
+had better go. You will commit yourself to nothing by going."
+
+"Whereas," observed Elmore, with his smiling glance fixed on the
+managing man, "you will commit yourself to a good deal by not going,
+because I shall not only put you out of this door, but into the
+street. So far as this office is concerned, that will be the end of
+you. I will take steps which will ensure your never entering it
+again."
+
+After another brief moment of hesitation, with a glance of what was
+very like reproach towards the lawyer, Andrews quitted the room, with
+the air of one who was both bewildered and hurt. So soon as he had
+gone Mr. Wilkes observed:
+
+"Mr. Elmore, you are taking a very great deal upon yourself; you
+certainly have the courage of youth, but be warned by me, don't take
+too much. If it is shown that your uncle's depositions are not what
+you are taking it for granted they are, your position will be rendered
+more difficult by the attitude you are now taking up."
+
+"I care nothing for any warning which comes from you, Mr. Wilkes. Why
+did my uncle commit suicide?"
+
+"What do you mean by asking me such a question? Do you imagine that if
+I knew I should tell you?"
+
+"Does that mean that you know?"
+
+"It means nothing of the sort; but it does mean that if I had any such
+secret knowledge, the only person to whom I should breathe a word of
+it would be his daughter."
+
+"That you certainly would not do. Miss Patterson's heartfelt prayer is
+that she may never know. That he had some shameful reason is plain; if
+it can be kept from her it shall be; if it reaches her through you,
+you will deserve to be whipped."
+
+"Mr. Elmore, I knew your father."
+
+"That's more, Mr. Wilkes, than I ever did."
+
+"His end was like your uncle's."
+
+"So I learned from my uncle before--he ended. And it is because the
+shame of what he did seems to rest on me, in the mouths of such as
+you, that I am resolved to shield my cousin--if I can. I imagine that,
+in a strictly scientific sense, you are, in part, responsible for my
+uncle's fate."
+
+"How do you arrive at that--somewhat startling conclusion?"
+
+"You aided and abetted him in what he did."
+
+"Indeed! As how?"
+
+"I happen to know that you were more than once his companion when he
+was in the society of certain notorious women, with whose character
+you were undoubtedly as well acquainted as he was."
+
+"And if I was--what then?"
+
+"If, on more than one occasion, A is in the company of B when B is in
+the act of committing a crime, what is the inference we draw as
+regards A?"
+
+"You really are a remarkable young man!"
+
+"More. On more than one occasion you have borrowed money from Mr.
+Patterson."
+
+"We have had business relations for many years."
+
+"Did he ever borrow money from you?"
+
+"No; because he did not do the class of business I did."
+
+"Exactly. At this moment you are his debtor in a considerable sum."
+
+"I don't know from whom you get your information, but if it is from
+your uncle you must be perfectly well aware that the whole matter is
+on a proper footing, and that there can be no reasonable doubt as to
+my fulfilling my engagements both in the letter and the spirit."
+
+"Still, you have been in the habit of borrowing money from your
+client, sometimes, I believe, to save yourself from a difficult
+position. Possibly his will contains a clause relieving you of your
+indebtedness; possibly, also, a court of law will see its way to
+relieve Miss Patterson from any obligation to accept your services. I
+will not detain you any longer, Mr. Wilkes. Good morning. Please don't
+gossip with the employés as you go out."
+
+Mr. Wilkes looked as if he would have said a good deal; but Mr. Elmore
+had already begun to write a letter--there was an air of complete
+indifference about him which apparently brought him to the conclusion
+that it might perhaps be as well to say nothing. He took his hat off
+the table and went out in silence. Presently Rodney, ringing the bell,
+said to the lad who answered:
+
+"Take that letter to the address which is on the envelope at once, and
+bring me an answer; also tell Mr. Andrews that I wish to speak to
+him."
+
+Shortly the managing man appeared in the doorway. One felt that he had
+hesitated whether or not to come, and that he was oppressed by
+something like a sense of shame at the thought of having yielded. The
+young gentleman, leaning back, regarded him with the pleasant little
+smile which, so far, had not left him--it was odd of what a number of
+subtle inflections his manner was capable without once disturbing the
+smile.
+
+"Sit down, Andrews; take this chair."
+
+The other did as he was told, sitting on the extreme edge, leaning
+slightly forward, his long legs crooked in front of him, his hands
+resting on his knees.
+
+"How old are you, Andrews?"
+
+Instead of replying to the question, the managing man started off on a
+line of his own.
+
+"Mr. Elmore, you must excuse my remarking that, so far as I am
+concerned, I don't understand the position at all."
+
+"You will, Andrews, shortly. I always have felt that your mental
+processes were perhaps a trifle slow."
+
+"I have been in this office, boy and man, practically my whole life
+long; I'm older than your uncle was, and I was here before he came. He
+was with Harding and Fletcher before he took this business over, and,
+so to speak, he took me with it. It was a solid business then, and
+it's a solid business still--indeed, it's even better than it was. I'm
+almost--if not quite--as well known in the City as he was; he would
+have been the first to tell you that with the continued success I have
+had something to do. He was, in some ways, a difficult man to deal
+with; but no man had a better head for business--if he gave his
+confidence, you might be sure it was deserved, and he had entire
+confidence in me."
+
+"Hear, hear! Go on; I like to hear you."
+
+"When he said a thing he meant it. It's always been a joke among those
+who knew him that Graham Patterson's word was as good as a bank-note.
+He has told me more than once that when he was gone----"
+
+"He anticipated going?"
+
+"Not more than other men; only, he was methodical and liked to have
+everything in order, and, if he could help it, leave nothing to
+chance. He has told me, as I have said, more than once, that when he
+was gone--since he only had a daughter--he had arranged that the whole
+management of the business should be in my hands, and that he had left
+me a small share in it. He said, frankly, some time ago that he would
+give me a share in it then and there; if it weren't that he was the
+kind of man who never would get on with a partner; and that was the
+case--often he was difficult. I am sure, from what he told me, that it
+will be found that he has left the management of the business in my
+hands, as well as a share. What I don't understand, therefore, is on
+what grounds you are taking up the position you appear to be doing. I
+am far from wishing to have any unpleasantness with you, Mr. Elmore,
+but I do not understand."
+
+"I represent Miss Patterson."
+
+"But I represent the business--which was her father's, not hers."
+
+"But it's hers now, you yourself admit that you only expect to be left
+a small share."
+
+"But I'm left the management."
+
+"That's--I am far from wishing to have any unpleasantness with you,
+Mr. Andrews, but--you must know that that's all tuppence."
+
+"Pray, Mr. Elmore, what do you mean by that? A will's a will; its
+terms are not to be lightly set aside."
+
+"You have not told me how old you are, Mr. Andrews, but you have told
+me that you are my uncle's senior."
+
+"So far as head for business goes, I am as young as ever I was."
+
+"I will not contradict you. I am inclined to think that you are as you
+were--thirty, forty years ago--that is, in a commercial sense, a
+thousand years behind the times."
+
+"You have no right to say that. What do you know about business--a
+young man like you?"
+
+"I am a man of business, Mr. Andrews."
+
+"I was not aware of it until this moment."
+
+"You will be more clearly aware of it before long. I was prepared to
+marry my cousin had she been penniless, as only the other day--if she
+married me--she bade fair to be. In that event I would have made her
+fortune, and my own, as sure as you are sitting there. As events have
+turned out, so far from being penniless, she is, shall we say, the
+three-fourths proprietor of a flourishing business, with, probably,
+all the capital at her command which is needed for its development.
+Under such circumstances, why should I not devote my energies to the
+aggrandisement of her business? If I do, do you suppose for one
+instant--will or no will--that the management of affairs will be in
+your hands? That you will lead, and I shall follow? Absurd, Andrews;
+the business has reached a stage at which it can branch out
+advantageously in a dozen different directions."
+
+"I believe there's something in what you say--if it's in the hands of
+the right man."
+
+"I am the right man! In the case of equipment of the modern man of
+business, if he has a head upon his shoulders, youth is his strongest
+card--it assures his being abreast of the procession. I know what can
+be done with this business, and it shall be done; I'll do it. In ten
+years it shall rank among the greatest of its kind in the City of
+London--in the world; if you live till then you'll own it."
+
+"I'm a bachelor. I've saved enough to keep me in comfort. The business
+has been to me both wife and child, I could not love it better if it
+were my own. If I were sure that it would grow and flourish, always on
+a solid basis, I shouldn't care so much about myself; but it would
+break my heart, if, for any cause whatever, it were to go to pieces."
+
+"It won't; you'll see. We'll talk about it again when the exact
+conditions of my uncle's will are known. Whatever they turn out to be,
+I shouldn't be surprised if you and I get on better together than at
+this moment you may suppose--you'll find that I like to get on with
+everyone. By the way, there is one disagreeable matter which, if we
+are to arrive at a perfect understanding, I ought to speak to you
+about. Are you aware that during the last few years various small acts
+of dishonesty have taken place in this office?"
+
+"Mr. Elmore! I never heard of it."
+
+"My uncle knew; he was speaking to me on the subject only a day or two
+ago. I fancy he even knew who the culprit was. He told me that there
+were proofs of what he more than hinted at locked up in one of his
+drawers. It was because of what he said that I was so anxious to go
+through his papers before anyone else could get at them."
+
+"I hope, Mr. Elmore, you are not imputing dishonesty to me?"
+
+"To you, my good Andrews! Do you think I don't know an honest man when
+I see one? In that respect I am like my uncle. I am as sure as I am
+sure of anything that you are as honest a man as I am--rest quite easy
+on that score. I only wished to point out that while you supposed
+yourself to be keeping a sharp eye on everything, and that nothing
+which took place in the office escaped your notice, these
+irregularities were taking place beneath your very nose. However, on
+that subject also I may have to speak to you again later. Still
+another point. The inquest on my uncle is to be held to-day at
+Victoria Station. As you will readily understand, Miss Patterson is
+not in a condition to appear at such an inquiry, if her presence can
+be dispensed with; we are advised it can. She wishes me to ask you if
+you will appear at the inquiry, and give such formal evidence as may
+be required. I don't know what questions will be asked you. Frankly,
+can you throw any light on any cause which may have induced his rash
+act? I take it he had no financial reason?"
+
+"Absolutely none, of that I'm convinced. He had all the money he
+wanted, and there was nothing wrong with the business. It's a mystery
+to me."
+
+"I fancy it will remain a mystery. Why some men and women make away
+with themselves is a mystery which only they themselves could have
+solved."
+
+"I don't understand why you and he didn't get on better together."
+
+"Nor I; to me it was a great disappointment. As you have said, he was
+difficult. He may have felt that my ideas on business matters were
+different from his, and didn't like it."
+
+"Perhaps if he had lived it would have been different."
+
+"We shall never know what, in that case, might have happened. May I
+take it that, in the matter of the inquest, you will do as Miss
+Patterson asks?"
+
+"I will--certainly."
+
+"Thank you. You increase the debt which she is conscious she owes you
+as her father's right-hand man, and which, whatever the terms of his
+will may be, she will never forget."
+
+The lad entered to whom he had entrusted the letter.
+
+"Mr. Parmiter has come back with me, sir; he's outside."
+
+"Good; show him in. I think, Mr. Andrews, that, as the inquest is
+timed for noon, you had better be starting."
+
+The old man went out, and a young one came into the room--a young man,
+with a student's face and fair hair. Although his cheeks were pale,
+his appearance was not unprepossessing. Elmore greeted him with
+outstretched hands.
+
+"Clarence, old man, it's very good of you to come right away like
+this. I hope it's not seriously inconvenienced you."
+
+"Not a bit. Between ourselves, I was sitting in the office twiddling
+my thumbs and wondering what I should do now I'd finished reading the
+paper."
+
+"I'll give you something to do. Sit down. You've heard what's happened
+to my uncle?"
+
+"I remember your telling me you were with an uncle, but I don't know
+how many uncles you have nor to which of them you're referring."
+
+"I have, or, rather, had, only one uncle, and last night he committed
+suicide in the Brighton train."
+
+"Great Scott! Whatever for?"
+
+"That's it. I'll tell you in as few words as possible what the
+position is. He's left a daughter, an only child, who is now an
+orphan, to whom I'm engaged to be married. To her he was not--well,
+all that a father might have been; he drank, and he womanised."
+
+"Did he? Nice man!"
+
+"That's precisely what he was not--a nice man. She knew very little
+about his private affairs, though quite as much as she wanted. He may
+have killed himself because he was financially wrong, though,
+personally, I doubt it, or for any one of a score of reasons. You'll
+guess the state of mind she's in."
+
+"Naturally; in a case like that it's those who are left who suffer
+most."
+
+"Of course. She's anxious, before all else, to know where she
+stands--that is, to know the worst. His affairs were in the hands of
+a solicitor named Wilkes."
+
+"I know him--Stephen Wilkes; he's an able man."
+
+"Maybe. But she doesn't want him for her solicitor all the same for
+that, for reasons on which, later, I may enlarge. She's asked me if I
+knew anyone who would act for her. I suggested you."
+
+"Thank you, Rodney. You always were a fellow who'd do a chap a good
+turn if you would."
+
+"Nonsense! Do you think that I don't know you--even in the old
+schooldays? You're as clever a man as you'd be likely to meet in a
+long day's journey, and as dependable. You mayn't have the largest
+practice in London to-day, but you will have. What's more, I'd trust
+you with my bottom dollar, which is more than you can say of the
+general run of solicitors nowadays. I told her so."
+
+"I'll try my best to prove worthy of your commendation."
+
+"I've no fear of that, not the least. You may consider Miss Patterson
+your client, and me; and we may both of us turn out to be quite good
+clients before we've done. I've asked you to come here in order to
+give you your first instructions."
+
+"I'm all ears."
+
+"Mr. Wilkes is in possession of my uncle's will; he himself says so.
+Miss Patterson wanted him to hand it over to me to pass on to her, but
+he declined. Can't you persuade him, acting on Miss Patterson's
+behalf, to produce the will at the earliest possible moment--say this
+afternoon at four, in her house in Russell Square--and make known its
+contents then and there? She'll not sleep till she knows the worst."
+
+"I can try what my persuasive powers will do. Presumably he knows its
+contents?"
+
+"Presumably, since it is even probable that he drew it up."
+
+"By it he may be appointed to some office of trust."
+
+"Exactly. That's one of the things she wants to know; because, if he
+is, she'll leave no stone unturned to get him out of it. His relations
+with her father were such that she'll not be induced to have relations
+of any kind with him."
+
+"I see; that's how it is. Persons may be interested whose presence he
+may think desirable at the reading and who are not accessible at such
+short notice."
+
+"There's nothing in that, Clarence. Candidly, some woman may be
+interested; it's only surmise on my part, but it's possible, and her
+presence would neither be essential nor advisable. There's the feeling
+that whatever her father may have done, Wilkes will not be considering
+her interests only--that's why she wants you. Get him to attend this
+afternoon in Russell Square with the will; that'll prove to her that I
+knew what I was about in suggesting you."
+
+"I'll do my utmost, but you clearly understand that I can't force the
+man. There's an etiquette in such matters; he'll be perfectly in order
+if he stands on it."
+
+"Do your best, Clarence--that's all I ask, and, if possible, let me
+know how it's going to be inside an hour. I want to keep Miss
+Patterson posted in what is taking place. If you only knew what a
+state of mind she's in!"
+
+When Mr. Parmiter had gone, Rodney, having given instructions that, if
+it could be avoided, he was not to be disturbed, subjected the
+contents of the drawers in his uncle's writing-table to a thorough
+examination. He came across some interesting items. There was a small
+leather-bound memorandum-book, which was locked. He opened it with a
+key which was on his uncle's private bunch. In a flap attached to the
+cover were some cheques which had been duly presented and paid and
+some other papers. A glance at the contents of the book showed that
+they principally related to him, after a fashion which occasioned him
+surprise, blended with amusement. He had no idea that in his uncle the
+detective instinct had been so strongly developed. He tore the cheques
+and other papers into tiny bits, made a bonfire of them on an iron
+shovel, and ground the ashes into powder. The book itself he slipped
+into his jacket pocket. In one of the drawers was a canvas bag,
+containing quite a number of gold coins, while in a letter-case were
+several bank-notes. He put the bag into another of his pockets, just
+as it was, and transferred the notes to a letter-case of his own. He
+chanced just then to be hard pressed for ready cash, as, indeed, was
+his every-day condition. Should certain eventualities arise, the
+possession of that money might prove to be of the very first
+importance. In still another drawer he found an envelope which was
+endorsed, in his uncle's handwriting, "Draft of my Will." He studied
+the sheet of ruled foolscap which he took out of it with every
+appearance of absorbed interest. It was not a very lengthy document.
+When he had read it he laid it on the table, drew a long breath, and
+smiled.
+
+"That's all right! It mayn't be all that Gladys would have liked it to
+be, but it might have been so much worse; it will serve. A good deal
+may depend on the exact wording; but, anyhow, between us we ought to
+be able to shape a will like that so that it shall mean, in the not
+very far-off future, that I shall be a millionaire--unless I'm a
+greater fool than I suppose. I'd like to wager a trifle that in me
+there's the stuff that goes to the making of a modern millionaire, and
+if the will as it stands is on those lines, it ought to give me at
+least an outside chance of proving it. Here's to you, Uncle P., and,
+if people can see from the other side, how happy the knowledge that
+your daughter and your business are in such capable hands should make
+you."
+
+A lad came in with an envelope.
+
+"A messenger boy has just brought this, sir."
+
+The note within ran:
+
+
+"DEAR RODNEY,--I have carried out your first instructions to the
+letter, so I have begun well. Mr. Wilkes will be in Russell Square
+this afternoon at four with the will. Unless I hear from you to the
+contrary, I shall be there at half-past three--to be introduced to
+Miss Patterson, to receive any further instructions, and to be at hand
+in case I am wanted generally. You might let me have a message by
+bearer.--Yours sincerely,
+
+                                   "CLARENCE PARMITER."
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER XIV
+
+                 BUSINESS FIRST, PLEASURE AFTERWARDS
+
+
+That afternoon there were five persons in the drawing-room of the
+house in Russell Square. Miss Patterson, who was already attired in
+garments of orthodox hue, in which Rodney felt that she did not look
+her best. It is your fair, slender women who appear to advantage in
+black--she was too big and dark. There was Rodney, who was also in
+mourning, which did become him; but, then, anything became him. He was
+one of your tall, graceful, well-set-up, debonair, handsome young
+fellows whom any tailor might find it worth his while to dress at
+reduced prices for the sake of the advertisement. The other three men
+also were in black: Mr. Wilkes's dark blue cheeks almost matching his
+attire; Mr. Parmiter's light hair and pale face standing out in marked
+relief; Mr. Andrews's general air of colourlessness causing his sombre
+attire to make him seem older than it need have done. The proceedings
+were short--unexpectedly short--and to the point. Mr. Wilkes had met
+Miss Patterson before, and while her almost sullen manner suggested no
+fondness for him, his brusqueness hinted at no particular attachment
+for her. The keen-eyed Rodney, observing their demeanour, told himself
+that the lawyer had been too much the father's friend to care overmuch
+for the child, which was, perhaps, as well, since it might make things
+easier.
+
+The inquest was already over. Mr. Wilkes had been present, and had
+taken with him a physician whom he was aware that Graham Patterson had
+consulted. He testified that Mr. Patterson was suffering from a malady
+which would certainly have grown more painful as time went on, and was
+probably incurable. This statement, since it supplied the motive,
+caused the inquiry to assume briefer limits than it might have done;
+the obvious inference was that the knowledge of his parlous state had
+prompted Graham Patterson to take his fate into his own hands. Nothing
+could have been clearer to such men of the world as the coroner and
+his jury. All else that was said and done was mere formality. The
+doctor who had conducted the autopsy, Mr. Andrews, a police officer
+connected with the railway company, the guard of the train--all these
+gave formal evidence. The latter said that he had seen the deceased
+man come running down the platform at Brighton station just as the
+train was about to start; that he had noticed him getting into a
+carriage; that he recognised him when, at East Croydon, his attention
+had been called to him by the ticket collector, who, going to collect
+his ticket, found him sitting up in the corner of the carriage, dead.
+In view of the physician's evidence, the whole affair was so
+transparently simple that no one thought of asking if anyone was in
+the compartment when he entered it at Brighton station. One of the
+jury did inquire if the train stopped between Brighton and East
+Croydon. When he was informed that it did not, it was generally felt
+that there was nothing more to be said. The hackneyed verdict was
+recorded as a matter of course--suicide while temporarily insane.
+
+The whole affair struck Rodney, when he learnt all the particulars
+from Andrews, as distinctly droll. He realised that he owed Mr. Wilkes
+a debt of gratitude of which that gentleman had no notion. The
+physician had been an unknown quantity; Rodney, who, through devious
+channels, had heard of a good many things, had never heard of him. Had
+not the lawyer brought him on to the scene the situation might easily
+have become very much more difficult--for him. He would not be so hard
+on Stephen Wilkes as he had meant to be, but in his treatment of him
+would recognise that, as Parmiter had put it, he was an able man.
+
+The will was the usual wordy, legal document. Stripped of its verbiage
+it was plain enough. It began with the legacies. A sufficient sum was
+to be set apart to buy an annuity of one hundred pounds a year for
+Agnes Sybil Armstrong, of an address at Hove. She was also to have
+five hundred pounds in cash and the furniture of the house in which
+she was residing.
+
+Gladys, who had been warned by Rodney that she might expect something
+of the kind, pursed her lips together and looked at her cousin.
+Sitting with expectant eyes fixed on her, he had been waiting for her
+look, and greeted it with a reassuring smile.
+
+Various legacies were left to servants in Russell Square, to clerks in
+St. Paul's Churchyard, and to certain trade charities. Five thousand
+pounds was left to Stephen Wilkes, in recognition of a life-long
+friendship and of valued services--the lawyer's voice was a trifle
+hesitant as he read this clause. One thousand pounds in cash and a
+tenth share in the business were left to Robert Fraser Andrews; and,
+since the testator's only child was a daughter, he directed that the
+said Andrews should be appointed manager of his business, under the
+conditions which followed.
+
+The whole residue of his estate, real and personal, he left to his
+daughter, Gladys, unreservedly. At this point the cousins again
+exchanged glances. Andrews was to manage the business for five years;
+at the end of that period, or in the event of his death, Gladys might
+appoint his successor, or dispose of the business, whichever she
+chose. No radical change in the conduct of the business was to be made
+without consulting her, and she was to have the right of veto. She was
+to have access to the accounts at all times, with right of comment.
+
+The testator went on to say that Stephen Wilkes had acted as his legal
+adviser for many years, and to express a strong wish that he would
+continue in that capacity for his daughter. He hoped that she would
+consult him freely, both in the conduct of the business and in her
+affairs generally, and act on his advice. He appointed Robert Fraser
+Andrews and Stephen Wilkes his executors.
+
+So soon as he had finished the reading of the will Mr. Wilkes
+observed:
+
+"In order to avoid misunderstanding, I wish to state that, since I
+have reason to believe that my services would not be welcome--and,
+indeed, learn that another solicitor has already been retained, whom I
+see present--I wish to withdraw at the earliest possible moment from
+all connection with Mr. Patterson's estate and affairs, and also that
+I renounce administration. I will not act as executor."
+
+When the lawyer stopped, Mr. Andrews had his say:
+
+"I'm very much in the same position as Mr. Wilkes. If Miss Patterson
+would rather I did not act as manager, I have not the slightest wish
+to press my claim. I'm given to understand, Miss Patterson, that Mr.
+Elmore here is likely to become your husband. From a conversation I
+had with him this morning, I--I'm inclined to think that I am older
+than I supposed, and that it would be to your advantage and to the
+advantage of the business that the management of affairs should be in
+his hands. Also, if you wish it, so as not to be a clog on you in any
+way, I will not act as executor."
+
+Rodney answered for his cousin:
+
+"You must act as executor, Mr. Andrews; Miss Patterson will very
+unwillingly release you from that duty. The other point she will
+discuss with you later; you will find that she is as anxious to
+consider your wishes as you are to consider hers. I may remark to you,
+Mr. Wilkes, as well as to Mr. Andrews, that Miss Patterson is grateful
+for the delicate thought which prompts your proposed action, and she
+will endeavour in all she does to show that she appreciates at its
+full value all that you have done for her father, and, by consequence,
+for her. I think, gentlemen, that, at present, that is all."
+
+The meeting was dissolved. The three gentlemen dismissed. The cousins
+were left together. Kneeling before the armchair on which Miss
+Patterson was seated, Rodney drew her towards him and kissed her with
+a sort of mock solemnity.
+
+"My congratulations, lady! if I may venture to kiss one who is now a
+person of property and importance. I hope you won't mind, but I almost
+wish, for my sake, that you hadn't quite so much money."
+
+She put out her hand and softly stroked his hair.
+
+"That's nonsense. How much money have I got?"
+
+"Roughly, I suppose that the business brings in four or five thousand
+a year, and you've forty or fifty thousand pounds in what represents
+cash. You're a rich woman."
+
+"Then, if you do marry me, you'll be a rich man."
+
+"There's one thing--put the business at its highwater mark, say that
+in its best year it brings in five thousand pounds--in ten years it
+shall bring in fifty thousand."
+
+"Rodney, don't be too speculative. We've enough to get along with;
+let's be sure of having a good time with what there is."
+
+"My dear lady, I'm no speculator--not such a fool; but I don't want to
+see a gold-mine producing only copper. You've twice the head your
+father had, and keener, because younger, eyes. Shortly I shall hope to
+lay my ideas before you; when you have assimilated them, you will be
+able to judge for yourself whether or not they're speculative. You'll
+see, what even old Andrews already sees, that you're the possessor of
+a gold-mine--a veritable gold-mine--which hitherto has been worked as
+if it were merely a copper-mine. When you begin to work it as a
+gold-mine, in less than ten years it will be bringing you in fifty
+thousand pounds a year; I shouldn't be surprised if it brings you
+twice as much--honestly."
+
+"A hundred thousand pounds a year, Rodney!"
+
+"Wait--you'll see! This is the age of miracles, which, when you look
+into them, have the simplest natural causes. Seriously, Gladys,
+there's no reason why, properly handled, the business of which
+you are now the sole proprietress--because you can easily get rid of
+Andrews--should not make you rich beyond the dreams of avarice. Wilkes
+has been quick in taking the hint, hasn't he?"
+
+"I don't like him--I never did. I think I shall like Mr. Parmiter much
+better."
+
+"I'm sure you will. He's an awfully good sort and as clever as they
+make them--and straight! He'll make your interests his own."
+
+There was a momentary pause. The gentleman was still kneeling in front
+of the armchair, and the lady was still stroking his hair. There was a
+look on her face which was half comical and half something else as she
+changed the topic.
+
+"Rodney, who's Agnes Sybil Armstrong?"
+
+"I don't know, and don't you ask. Let her have her hundred a year, and
+go hang!"
+
+"Does every man have an Agnes Sybil Armstrong?"
+
+"Emphatically no; only--I was going to say only men like your father,
+but perhaps you wouldn't like it."
+
+"I wonder--will you ever have one?"
+
+"Gladys! Lady, if a man loves one woman, that's all the feminine kind
+he'll ever want, especially--if she's a woman like you. Doesn't your
+instinct tell you that when you're my wife, I'll--be satisfied, in
+every sense?"
+
+"I hope so. If you weren't, I--I shouldn't like it."
+
+"I should say not. May I hope that there is some possibility of your
+being my wife?"
+
+"I have some ideas in that direction now, though on Saturday I thought
+I never should. How prophetic you were? You almost foretold what has
+happened--almost as if you saw it coming. Did you know that he was
+ill?"
+
+"I had a shrewd suspicion; but you don't suppose I foresaw what
+actually did happen?"
+
+"I dare say that yours was not the prophetic vision quite to that
+extent. I wonder why he didn't like you?"
+
+"I'm nearly sure that with him it was a case of Dr. Fell--the reason
+why he couldn't tell. When you came on the scene he hated me because
+you didn't."
+
+"Didn't you do anything to ruffle him--to rub him the wrong way?"
+
+"Never--consciously. I've a notion--it's only a notion, but my notions
+are apt to be pretty near the mark--that he had some idea of marrying
+you to Mr. Stephen Wilkes."
+
+"Rodney! Good gracious! What a notion!"
+
+"As I remarked, it's only a notion; but I can put two and two
+together, and something in the gentleman's manner this morning put the
+crown on my suspicions."
+
+"I'd rather have died."
+
+"Or married me? Well--do! How soon could you make it convenient?"
+
+"How soon would you like it to be?"
+
+"This is Monday. Say Thursday--next?"
+
+"Rodney! How can you?"
+
+"Then make it Friday--if you've no prejudice against the day."
+
+"I'll never be married on a Friday."
+
+"Then postpone it to that far-off date, Saturday, or even Monday. I
+don't know if you want a smart wedding; if you do, what indefinite
+postponement may the conventions require?"
+
+"I don't want a smart wedding."
+
+"That sounds hopeful. You're all I want; I don't know if I'm all you
+want."
+
+"Well; you are one thing."
+
+"Am I? Thanks--you have a nice way. I tell you what, I'll get a
+special licence--hang the expense--and we'll be married on Monday."
+
+"I won't be married in black, and I will have one bridesmaid; I'll
+have Cissie Henderson. She's my particular friend; she likes you;
+she's been on our side all through; and she'll strain a point--when
+I've put it to her as I shall, she'll have to. As a matter of fact, I
+believe she'll love to."
+
+"And Clarence Parmiter shall be my best man, and old Andrews shall
+give you away."
+
+"I don't know about old Andrews."
+
+"Then old Andrews shan't! So long as I get you I don't care who gives
+you away; if it comes to that, we'll make it worth the verger's while.
+Then we'll go off for a whole month, and have a rare old spree."
+
+"That sounds inviting."
+
+"And while we're away Andrews and Parmiter between them shall get
+things ship-shape; and when we come back, under her majesty's
+directions I shall put my shoulder to the wheel and start making her
+the richest woman in the world--and the happiest."
+
+"The conceit of him! Mind you do make me happy. Will you?"
+
+"Don't you think I shall?"
+
+"If I hadn't hopes in that direction you--wouldn't be where you are."
+
+"Where shall we go to?"
+
+"Wherever you like."
+
+"Then----"
+
+He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. She put her arms about his
+neck and drew him to her.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XV
+
+                             MABEL JOYCE
+
+
+When Rodney Elmore got back to his rooms it was somewhat late. Some
+letters were on the table in his sitting-room, and a telegram from
+Stella Austin. One of those voluminous telegrams which women send when
+they are in no mood to consider that each unnecessary word means
+another halfpenny. It was, indeed, a little letter, in which she
+expressed both sympathy and disappointment. She was so sorry to hear
+the bad news about his uncle, and assured him--with apparent disregard
+of the fact that the message might possibly pass through several
+persons' hands--that he had much better come to her if he was able,
+since she would console him as nobody else could.
+
+"I shall be terribly disappointed if you do not come," it went on, "so
+please do come. There are heaps of things I wish to say to you--simply
+heaps. So mind, Rodney, dear, you are to come some time this evening,
+and you are to let nothing keep you away from your own Stella."
+
+It was a love-letter which this young lady had flashed across the
+wires at a halfpenny a word, evidently caring nothing if strangers
+learned what was in her heart so long as he did. He was still
+considering it when Miss Joyce came into the room with a decanter and
+a glass upon a tray.
+
+"Miss Austin's been to see you," she observed. "I suppose that
+telegram's from her."
+
+"Did she tell you it was from her?"
+
+"She came in and looked about her at pretty nearly everything, and saw
+it lying on the table, and said she'd sent you a telegram, and
+supposed that was it. I thought she was going to walk off with it, but
+she didn't. I expected she'd want to stop till you came in, as Miss
+Patterson did last night, but I told her I knew you'd an important
+engagement in the City, and knew you wouldn't be in till very late; so
+she went."
+
+"Thank you; I'm glad she didn't stay."
+
+"I thought you would be. She asked me if I was the servant. I don't
+think she liked the look of me."
+
+There was something in his attitude which suggested that he was
+expecting her to leave the room, and would have liked her to. When she
+showed no sign of going he commented on her last remark.
+
+"That was rather bad taste on her part."
+
+"Wasn't it?"
+
+Having done with the telegram, he began to examine the letters. She
+watched him with an expression in her pale blue eyes which, if he had
+been conscious of it, might have startled him. It was plain from his
+manner that he intended to offer her no encouragement either to
+continue the conversation or to remain in the room. After a
+perceptible interval, she said, with an abruptness which was a little
+significant:
+
+"I was at the inquest."
+
+He glanced up.
+
+"You were where? At the inquest? Oh! What was the attraction? And how
+did you get in?"
+
+"I believe the public are admitted to inquests. They're supposed to be
+public inquiries, aren't they? Also, I had a friend at court; and,
+anyhow, I wasn't the only person there. I suppose Miss Patterson is a
+rich woman now."
+
+"She'll have money."
+
+"Are you going to marry her?"
+
+"Why do you ask?"
+
+"Or are you going to marry Miss Austin?"
+
+"Pray why do you ask that?"
+
+"When Miss Patterson was here last night I thought there was an air
+about her as if she considered you her property; when Miss Austin was
+here this evening I thought the same thing of her. Odd, wasn't it?"
+
+"The only thing odd about it, my dear Mabel, is that you should have
+such a vivid imagination. Both these ladies are old friends of mine."
+
+"Old friends, are they? In what sense? In the sense that I'm an old
+friend?"
+
+"No one could be nicer than you have been."
+
+"I see. Have they been nice to you like that?"
+
+"My dear Mabel, in what quarter sits the wind? Where's Mrs. Joyce?"
+
+"Mother's out; she's going to stay at aunt's till to-morrow. You and I
+are alone together."
+
+"Good business! Come and give me a kiss."
+
+"No, don't touch me; I won't have it."
+
+"There is something queer about the wind! What's wrong? Is there
+anything wrong?"
+
+"I'm trying to tell you. It's not easy, but I'm going to tell you if
+you'll give me a chance."
+
+"You've some bee in your bonnet. Let me get it out."
+
+"You give me a chance, I say! I tried to tell you last night, but I
+couldn't. But I'm going to tell you now; I've got to!"
+
+"Have you? Couldn't you tell me a little closer, instead of standing
+all that distance off?"
+
+"I wouldn't come nearer for--for anything."
+
+"Mabel! After all these years!"
+
+"Yes, after all these years! How long have you been here?"
+
+"I never had a memory for dates."
+
+"More than four years you have been here."
+
+"So long as that? And it hasn't seemed a day too long."
+
+"I was a kid in short skirts when you first came."
+
+"And a very pretty kid you were. Almost as pretty even then as you are
+now."
+
+"Rodney, have you ever cared for me a little bit?"
+
+"Have I ever cared? Haven't I shown it?"
+
+"Shown it? You call that showing it? My word!"
+
+"What is the matter with the girl? I've never seen you like this
+before."
+
+"Suppose--something was going to happen?"
+
+"Well, isn't something always going to happen? What especially awful
+thing are you afraid is going to happen?"
+
+"Suppose--something was going to happen--to me--because of you?
+Suppose--I was going----"
+
+Her voice died away, her eyes fell.
+
+"You don't mean that----"
+
+"I do."
+
+"Good God! It's--it's impossible!"
+
+"Why is it impossible? It's true."
+
+"But, my--my dear girl, it can't be."
+
+"Why can't it be? It is."
+
+"But--you're not sure. How can you be sure? You know, my dear Mabel,
+how you do fancy things. I'll bet ten to one that you're mistaken."
+
+"Do you suppose that I haven't tried to make myself think that I'm
+mistaken? I wouldn't believe it. But it's no use pretending any
+longer; it's sure. What are you going to do?"
+
+"What am I going to do? That's--that's a nice brick to aim at a fellow
+without the slightest warning."
+
+"I'm sorry; I can't help it; I must know. What are you going to do?"
+
+"My dear girl, you know that you've no more actual knowledge on such a
+subject than I have. I hope--and I think it's very possible--that you
+are wrong. Let's, first of all, make sure."
+
+"Very well--we'll make sure. And when we've made sure what are you
+going to do--if it is sure?"
+
+"We'll discuss that when we've made sure. Give me a chance to think;
+you've had one. It seems that you've guessed, goodness knows how long.
+Give me a chance to get my thoughts into order."
+
+"I can't wait; I must know now. What are you going to do--if it is
+sure?"
+
+"I'll do everything that a man can do--you know that perfectly well.
+You've knocked the sense all out of me! Do give me a chance to think!
+Don't look at me with that stand-and-deliver air! Come here, old lady,
+and let me kiss those pretty eyes of yours; I can't bear to have them
+look like that."
+
+"Don't touch me--don't dare! You say you'll do everything a man can
+do. Does that mean you'll marry me?"
+
+"Marry you! Mabel!"
+
+"Don't you mean that you will marry me?"
+
+"My dear girl, it's--it's impossible!"
+
+"Why is it impossible? Are you married already?"
+
+"Good Lord, no!"
+
+"Then why can't you marry me?"
+
+"As if you didn't know!"
+
+"What do I know?"
+
+"As if there weren't a thousand reasons! As if you weren't almost as
+well posted in my financial position as I am myself! As if you didn't
+know how hard I've found it to pay my way--that, in fact, I haven't
+paid it! If I were to marry you, financially there'd be an end of me;
+and in every other way! Not only should I be worse than penniless, but
+there'd be absolutely no prospect of my ever being anything else."
+
+"I shouldn't be worse off as your wife than I am now."
+
+"Oh, wouldn't you? You would; don't you make any error! I've never
+said a word to you about marriage."
+
+"That's true, nor should I have said it to you if it hadn't been for
+this."
+
+"There you are--that's frank. There's been no deception on either
+side. After all that there's been between us don't let's have any
+unpleasantness, for both our sakes. I'm as sorry for the position to
+which we've managed to bring things as you can be; you must know I am.
+At present I'm stony, but shortly I hope to have the command of plenty
+of money."
+
+"Are you going to get it from Miss Patterson or Miss Austin?"
+
+"What does it matter where it comes from?"
+
+"So far as I'm concerned it matters a good deal."
+
+"It'll be my own money."
+
+"If you'll have so much money of your own why can't you marry me?"
+
+"If I do marry you I'll have no money?"
+
+"Are you going to get it with your wife? Which wife?"
+
+"I can understand how you're feeling, so I'll try not to mind your
+being bitter, though it isn't like you one scrap. I can only implore
+you to trust me, to leave it all to me; I'll arrange everything. If
+you're right in what you fear you'll find a place ready for you when
+the time comes, in which you'll be comfortable, in which you'll have
+everything you want, and when it's over, if you like you can come home
+again, and no one will be one whit the wiser, and you won't be an atom
+the worse. It's done every day."
+
+"Is it? And the child--what about the child?"
+
+"The child? If it is my child----"
+
+"If? if? if? What do you mean by 'if'? You'd better be careful,
+Rodney, what you are saying. What do you mean by 'if'?"
+
+"My dear girl, it was only a way of speaking."
+
+"Then don't you speak that way. 'If' it is your child! When you knew me
+I was innocent, and I'm innocent now except for you. Don't you dare to
+say if! You know it is your child!"
+
+"My dear girl, of course I know it's my child. You won't let a fellow
+finish what he is going to say. I was only going to say that the child
+shall want for nothing; it shall have everything a child can have. So
+shall you; you'll be much better off than if you were my wife."
+
+"If the child is born, and I am not your wife, I'll kill myself--and
+it. Or, rather, if I'm not going to be your wife, I'll kill myself
+before it's born, as sure as you are alive."
+
+"Mabel, don't talk like that--don't! I can't bear it. If you only knew
+how it hurts!"
+
+"Hurts! As if anything hurts you! Nothing could hurt you, nothing;
+you're not built that way. Do you suppose that I don't know what kind
+of man you are--that you're an all-round bad lot?"
+
+"To say a thing like that, after pretending to care for me!"
+
+"Pretending! There wasn't much pretence about my caring; I proved it.
+You wouldn't let me rest until I did. Not only did I care for you, but
+I do care for you; and I shall continue to care for you as long as I
+live. No other man can ever be to me what you have been."
+
+"That's more like the Mabel I know."
+
+"But don't imagine that I'm under any delusion about you; you'll know
+better by the time I've done. You're the kind of man who's not to be
+trusted with a girl. You make love to every woman you meet--what you
+call love! You're entangled with no end of women. I know! I don't know
+how many think you're going to marry them, but I shouldn't be
+surprised if Miss Patterson and Miss Austin both think you are. If I
+were to go and tell them, do you think they'd marry you? Not they;
+they're not that sort."
+
+"But you won't tell them. You're not that sort either. I, perhaps,
+know you better than you know yourself."
+
+"It's this way. Even you mayn't know who you're going to marry, but I
+do. You're going to marry me."
+
+"I wish I were. I'll admit so much. But--we can't always do what we
+wish, my dear."
+
+"You can, and do; that's what makes you dangerous--at first to others,
+in the end to yourself. Rodney, I don't want to say something which
+will change the whole face of the world for both of us, but I'll have
+to if you make me. Don't you make me! Say you'll marry me."
+
+"My dear child----"
+
+"Don't talk like that to me; don't you do it! You're duller than I
+thought, or long before this you'd have seen what I was driving at.
+Now, you listen to me; I'll tell you. To-day I was at the inquest."
+
+"That fact, I assure you, in spite of my dullness, I have appreciated
+already. What I still fail to understand is what the attraction was."
+
+"Attraction! You call it an attraction! You wait. I've always
+thought that an inquest was to find out the truth, not to hide it up.
+The idea of that one seemed to be to conceal, not to reveal. The
+coroner was an old idiot, as blind as a bat. He'd got a notion into
+his head, and as there wasn't room for more than one at a time--why,
+there it was! I went there knowing nothing, guessing nothing,
+suspecting nothing. The inquest hadn't hardly begun before I saw
+everything, knew everything, understood everything. But the coroner,
+the jury, and the witnesses--they knew less at the end than the
+beginning."
+
+"Your words suggest that nature erred in making you a pretty girl, and
+therefore incompetent to be a coroner."
+
+"According to the guard of the train, your uncle was found sitting up
+in a corner of the carriage, with a box in his hand, in which were
+some of the things with which he is supposed to have poisoned himself.
+The box was handed round for the coroner and jury to look at. Directly
+I saw it I knew it."
+
+If Elmore changed countenance it was only very slightly, and the
+change went as quickly as it came; yet one felt that for an instant it
+had been there.
+
+"Is that so? What sort of box was it? It must have been something
+rather out of the common run of boxes for you to have recognised it at
+what, I take it, was some little distance."
+
+"I was close enough, close enough to take it in my hand if I had
+wanted; and it was all that I could do to keep my hand from off it.
+And it was very much what you call out of the common run of boxes. It
+was a silver box, Chinese, with Chinese engraving on it, about an inch
+and a half long, round, and a little thicker than a fountain pen."
+
+"You seem to have observed it pretty closely."
+
+"It was not the first time I'd seen it. The first time I saw it it was
+on your dressing-table."
+
+Again, if Elmore's expression altered, it was only as if a flickering
+something had come and gone in his eyes.
+
+"You may have seen a box like it on my dressing-table. You certainly
+never saw the one you saw this morning."
+
+"The box was on your dressing-table. I picked it up and asked you what
+it was. You said you believed it was a Chinese sweetmeat box. I said
+that if it was it did not hold many sweets. You laughed and said it
+was very old, and that you believed it came from Pekin, and that some
+of the carvings on it were Chinese characters, but you didn't know
+what they meant. I opened it. Inside it were some of the white things
+which were in it when they handed it round this morning. I asked you
+if they were sweets. You said that those who wanted a long, long sleep
+would find them sweet enough; and you took the box from me as you said
+it. I thought there was something queer about you and the box, and
+when you put it down for a moment I picked it up again, and, with
+some scissors which were on the table, scratched some marks on the
+bottom--I myself hardly know why. But when I saw that box this morning
+it was all I could do to keep from asking the coroner if they were on
+the bottom. I could describe them perfectly; I should know them again.
+I can see them now."
+
+"What a vivid imagination you have, and what powers of observation!
+Even granting that, by some odd coincidence, that box was my box,
+what's the inference you draw from it, when the simple explanation is
+that it was a present to my uncle from his affectionate nephew?"
+
+"I daresay it was a present, but not in the sense you mean. You went
+to Brighton yesterday by the Pullman, but you didn't come back by it."
+
+"Pray, who is your informant, and what's the relevancy to your
+previous remarks?"
+
+"George Dale, who has the bed-sitting-room upstairs, and who cares for
+me in a different way to what you do, because he wants me to be his
+wife."
+
+"Then why the--something don't you oblige him? Isn't he respectable?"
+
+"Oh, he's respectable."
+
+"Then could there be a sounder proposition? A man who loves you, who
+would be all that a husband ought to be! I tell you what, on the day
+you marry him an unknown benefactor will settle on you a thousand
+pounds--something like a fortune."
+
+"You can talk to me like that, knowing what you know! After what
+you've done to me you want to pass me on to someone else. That
+finishes it! Now you listen. George Dale's a booking clerk at Victoria
+Station. He recognised you, though you didn't him."
+
+"Quite possibly, if he was on the other side of the peep-hole, and
+seeing that I've only seen him two or three times in my life."
+
+"He gave you your ticket for the Pullman. All the seats are numbered;
+he made a note of your number. Your ticket wasn't among those which
+were given up by the passengers who came back by the Pullman, but it
+was among those which were collected from the train which reached
+Victoria at 11.30. The guard saw you get into the train at Redhill
+Station. You got into a first-class compartment with a little man. You
+two were the only first-class passengers who got in at Redhill, so he
+took particular notice. You were in the London Bridge part of the
+train. At East Croydon someone else got into your compartment. You got
+out and went back to the Victoria part. The guard, shutting your
+carriage door, took particular notice of you again."
+
+"Your friend the guard appears to be as quick to observe as he is to
+impart the fruits of his observation."
+
+"He wasn't my friend, only Mr. Dale introduced me to him, and he was
+kind enough to answer a question or two. Mr. Dale also introduced me
+to the guard of the train in which your uncle was. I asked him if it
+stopped anywhere. He thought a bit, and then said that it did once,
+for about a minute, in Redhill tunnel, because the signal was against
+it. I haven't made inquiries yet, but I shouldn't be surprised if
+someone saw you get into your uncle's train at Brighton. As that train
+stopped in Redhill tunnel, it's not hard to understand how, or why,
+you got into another train a little later at Redhill Station."
+
+"You surprise me, Mabel. I hadn't a ghost of an idea that you had such
+a genius for ferreting."
+
+"It's easy enough. If that coroner hadn't had a notion in his head
+when he started, he might have got at the facts as easily as I have."
+
+"And, from what you call the facts, what is the inference you draw?
+What dreadful charge against me have you been formulating in your
+mind?"
+
+"Rodney, a wife can't give evidence against her husband in a charge of
+murder."
+
+"I believe I have heard as much. And then?"
+
+"I'm the only creature in the world who has any suspicion. If you
+marry me you're safe."
+
+"You, pretending to love me, can marry the sort of man you believe I
+am?"
+
+"It is because I do love you that I am willing to marry you, knowing
+you to be the kind of man you are.
+
+"Your standard of morality is not a high one."
+
+"It's what you've made it."
+
+"Mabel, while you have got parts of your story right, the inferences
+you draw from it are all wrong; but I'm not going to attempt any
+denials."
+
+"I shouldn't; lies won't help you--not with me."
+
+"So you also think that I'm a liar?"
+
+"I'm sure of it; you're a born liar. Sometimes I don't believe you
+know yourself if you are speaking the truth."
+
+"One thing I've learnt this evening--that you're a born actress. I am
+speaking the absolute truth when I assure you that I never for one
+second dreamt that you had the opinion of me you seem to have."
+
+"I never really began to understand you myself till last night. Just
+before you came in Mr. Dale had gone to bed. He told me, as he went
+upstairs, that your uncle had been found dead in the Brighton train,
+and that you had gone to Brighton in the Pullman; and he wondered,
+laughing, if it was you who had killed him. Then Miss Patterson came
+with her air of owning you, and you came and went out with her again
+as with one whom you were going to make your wife, and something
+happened inside my head and I began to understand. All night I
+scarcely slept for thinking, and in the morning, somehow, I knew; and
+all day I have been learning much more, until now I know you--for the
+man you are."
+
+"My dear Mabel, one thing I do see plainly, that you're not very well,
+that your nerves are out of order, and play you tricks. Let's both
+turn in. I, for one, am tired, and I'm sure that a good night's rest
+will do you good; and to-morrow we'll continue our talk where it left
+off."
+
+"Rodney, you'll give me at once a written promise of marriage, or I'll
+communicate with Inspector Harlow, and in the morning you'll be
+charged with murder."
+
+"Do you wish me to suppose that you are speaking seriously?"
+
+"We'll be married at a registrar's--it doesn't matter where, so long
+as we are married, and at a registrar's it's quickest. You can get a
+licence for £2 3s. 6d.; I'll get it, I've enough money for that, and
+then the day after you can be married. If I get the licence to-morrow
+we can be married on Thursday--and we will."
+
+"We can be married on Thursday, can we, you and I? This sounds like
+comic opera, and, as the song says, 'When we are married, what shall
+we do?'"
+
+"You can do as you please. I shall have my marriage lines, and that's
+all I care about."
+
+"So you propose to haul me to the registrar, and chain me to you, and
+souse me in the gutter, and ruin my career, and render life not worth
+living, not because you've any special ambition for yourself, nor even
+because you crave for the sweets of my society, but in order that you
+may have somewhere locked up in a drawer what you call your marriage
+lines. This seems to me like using a steam hammer to crack a nut."
+
+"I've got a sheet of paper; you sit down and write what I tell you."
+
+She laid on the table a sheet of paper which she had taken out of her
+blouse. As he looked at it he laughed.
+
+"Stamped--a sixpenny stamp, as I'm a sinner! Do you know, my dear,
+that this is a bill form which you've got here, good for any amount up
+to fifty pounds. Wherever did you get the thing? And what use do you
+suppose it is to you? What a practical-minded child it is! And I never
+guessed it till now! Tis a wonderful world that we live in!"
+
+"You get a pen and write."
+
+He took a fountain pen and a blotting pad from a table at the side,
+and spread out on the latter the crumpled bill stamp.
+
+"Here we are. Now for the writing. 'Three months after date I promise
+to pay.' Is that the sort of thing I'm to write?"
+
+"You write what I tell you."
+
+"Tell on; I'm waiting."
+
+"Write: 'I, Rodney Elmore, promise to marry on Thursday next Mabel
+Joyce, who is about to bear a child of which I am the father.' Have
+you got that? Why aren't you writing?"
+
+"Before I start I want to see the finish; that is, I want to know all
+that I am to write."
+
+"Except your signature and the date, that is all."
+
+"Rather a considerable all, eh? What use do you suppose this will be
+to you when you've got it?"
+
+"That's my business."
+
+"What do you propose to do with it?"
+
+"Nothing. If you marry me I'll give it you before we leave the
+registrar's."
+
+"And if I don't?"
+
+"You'll be in gaol."
+
+"I see; that's it. If I don't write I'm in the cart, and if I do write
+and don't marry I'm also in the cart."
+
+"I'm fighting for my life."
+
+"And I lose mine either way."
+
+"How do you make that out? Who's there to be afraid of except me?"
+
+"If I do marry you I might as well be dead, and if I don't you'll do
+your best to bring my death about."
+
+She was silent. They eyed each other, she standing at one side of the
+table, he sitting at the other. In the white-faced woman, with the
+rigid features and close-set lips, who looked at him with such
+unfaltering gaze, he scarcely recognised the pretty, dainty, blue-eyed
+girl whom it seemed only yesterday he had wooed and won. He was
+sufficiently a physiognomist and student of character to be aware that
+this woman meant every word she said. As this knowledge was borne more
+clearly in on him a curious something came into his own eyes--the
+something which had been there last night in the train. He spoke very
+softly.
+
+"Mabel?"
+
+Her voice fell as his had done.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"We are alone together in the house, you and I."
+
+"We are; as you were alone with your uncle in the railway carriage."
+
+"Why shouldn't I serve you as you persist in hinting that I served
+him? What reason is there?"
+
+"None."
+
+"Then--why shouldn't I?"
+
+"You can."
+
+"I can--what?"
+
+"Kill me."
+
+"Knowing me, as you pretended to know me, you're not afraid?"
+
+"I shall never be afraid of you."
+
+"You seem to flatter me all at once."
+
+"I don't care what you do to me. I'd rather you killed me than not
+marry me--much."
+
+"You wouldn't be so easy to explain. You'd want a lot of explaining if
+they found you dead."
+
+When he stopped she was still looking at him with eyes which never
+flinched. He went on:
+
+"You wouldn't be difficult to manage."
+
+"I shouldn't resist. If you broke my head to pieces with the poker I
+wouldn't make a sound."
+
+"The poker? Not such a fool! He would be sanguine who hoped to explain
+a poker."
+
+He had been sitting back in his chair; now, leaning forward, he rested
+his arms on the table.
+
+"Suppose I had another of those things which were in the silver box.
+If I gave it to you would you take it?"
+
+"No."
+
+Her face had become all at once so pale that her very lips seemed
+white.
+
+"I should have to go through the form of making you."
+
+"You would have to do to me what you did to your uncle."
+
+"And if I did, what then?--what then?"
+
+If he expected an answer it did not come. She stood confronting him,
+so immobile that she scarcely seemed to breathe. The smile was on his
+face which had seemed the night before to give it such unpleasant
+significance, as if unholy thoughts were chasing each other through
+his mind.
+
+"I'll be frank with you."
+
+If he expected her to speak he was again disappointed.
+
+"If I could explain you--I'd do it, but I don't see how I could. How
+can I? Suggest an explanation."
+
+"You won't kill me; you dare not. You only killed your uncle because
+you thought you wouldn't be found out."
+
+"You think that was the only reason? You don't think that I had a
+choice of evils, and that I merely chose what seemed to be the
+lesser?"
+
+"I wonder why you killed him?"
+
+"In your case you wouldn't wonder?"
+
+"Was it because of Miss Patterson?"
+
+"As how?"
+
+"Because you've treated her as you've treated me, and her father found
+out. If I thought--if I thought---- Take that paper and write on it
+what I told you--now! now! now!"
+
+"And if I don't?"
+
+"If you don't kill me--and you won't, you're afraid--I'll have you
+hanged!"
+
+"So with you also it is a choice of evils."
+
+"Write what I told you--write it----"
+
+She had raised her voice nearly to a scream. All at once she was
+still, leaving her sentence unfinished. There were sounds without of a
+key being put in a lock, of a door being opened, of steps in the
+passage. She spoke in a whisper, hurriedly, eagerly, and the fashion
+of her countenance was changed:
+
+"That's Mr. Dale come back from the station. If you don't write what I
+told you now, I'll call him in--I will!"
+
+He also spoke in a whisper, and in some subtle fashion his countenance
+was also changed:
+
+"Mabel, don't--don't be hard on me."
+
+"Then write, write what I told you; write it now. If I do call him in
+it'll be too late. Write!"
+
+He drew the bill stamp towards him and picked up the fountain pen. His
+air was more than a trifle sullen.
+
+"What am I to write?"
+
+"You know perfectly well. Write: 'I, Rodney Elmore, promise to marry
+on Thursday next Mabel Joyce, who is about to bear a child of which I
+am the father.' Write that. Now sign it, put your name at the bottom,
+and the date. I'll blot it."
+
+Drawing the pad to her she blotted what Elmore had written; then,
+after a glance at what was on it, began to return it to her blouse,
+while the young gentleman sat and watched.
+
+"I'm going to put this into an envelope with a note I'm going to
+write, and give it to Mr. Dale, and tell him to keep it for me till I
+ask for it; and if I don't ask for it he'll know why."
+
+"So, in writing that, I have not only put myself in your power, but
+also in Mr. Dale's."
+
+"I tell you that if you do marry me on Thursday I'll give it you again
+before we leave the registrar's; but if for any cause you don't, even
+if you put me out of the way, Mr. Dale will see that you are made to
+smart."
+
+A voice was heard calling to her without:
+
+"Miss Joyce."
+
+She replied to it.
+
+"All right, Mr. Dale. You'll find your supper all ready for you in the
+parlour; I'm coming now."
+
+She went, the bill form inside her blouse. Mr. Elmore was left to his
+own reflections. He remained just as she had left him, leaning
+forward, his arms upon the table, looking with unblinking eyes
+straight in front of him, as if he hoped to find in space an answer to
+a problem which was difficult to solve.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XVI
+
+                        THOMAS AUSTIN, SENIOR
+
+
+Miss Joyce came into Mr. Elmore's bedroom the next morning before he
+was out of it. As a matter of fact, he was arranging his tie before
+the looking-glass with that nice care which is becoming to a young
+gentleman of looks.
+
+"There's a gentleman come to see you--a Mr. Austin. I should say from
+the look of him that he's the father of the Miss Austin who was here
+last evening."
+
+"The thing is possible."
+
+"I don't know what he's come about."
+
+"It's conceivable that you soon will know if you keep your ear close
+enough to my sitting-room door. Mr. Austin has rather a hearty way of
+speaking."
+
+"Don't you talk to me like that! You know I've never played the spy on
+you yet, and you know I never will. But don't you make any mistake
+about last night. Mr. Dale's got that paper you wrote and my letter in
+a sealed envelope, and if you don't turn up on Thursday you'll be
+sorry."
+
+"Thank you so much for the information. Now, let me clearly
+understand. If, as you put it, I do turn up on Thursday, what is going
+to happen--after the ceremony?"
+
+"All I want is my marriage lines. I'm coming straight back home; you
+can do as you like."
+
+"If I like can I go through a similar ceremony with Miss Jones or Miss
+Brown?"
+
+"If I thought you were going to be up to any game of that sort
+I'd--I'd----"
+
+"Yes--you'd what?"
+
+"I'd go and talk to your Mr. Austin to begin with. Don't you get any
+ideas of that kind in your head; don't you try it on."
+
+"I've no intention of, as you again put it, 'trying it on,' not I. I
+only wondered. Then, at least, you won't insist on the position being
+made instantly public?"
+
+"I don't care if it's made public or not. All I want is my marriage
+lines--when the time comes."
+
+"And you quite understand that, whatever the relations may be, from
+the legal point of view, in which we stand to each other, you'll get
+no money out of me, for the sufficient reason that I shall have none
+to give you."
+
+"I don't want your money. I don't want anything from you except that
+one thing; and--and--mind you do turn up!"
+
+"I've been thinking things over in the silent watches of the night,
+and I've quite decided that I will turn up."
+
+"Mind you do!"
+
+"I will, I will; be assured I will. Now I believe I'm ready. I was
+thinking of troubling you to tell Mr. Austin that I'll be with him in
+a second, but I'll save you that trouble."
+
+"Mind----"
+
+Standing by the door she was beginning a sentence. He cut her short.
+
+"All right, my dear; I'll mind. Would you mind getting out of the
+way?"
+
+She moved aside to let him pass. He went down the stairs to his
+sitting-room below, quickly, lightly, humming a tune as he went, as if
+he had not a care in the world; and with a face which was all sunshine
+he entered his visitor's presence.
+
+"My dear Rodney, this is an unconventional hour at which to pay a
+call, but I didn't think that in my case you'd mind about conventions,
+and I thought that, as I didn't get a chance of speaking to you last
+night, I'd have a few words with you before you started for the City.
+I suspect that I needn't tell you that I was glad to hear the news
+from Stella."
+
+The speaker was a short, sturdily-built, fresh-coloured man, probably
+somewhere in the fifties, whose neatly trimmed beard was a shade
+whiter than his hair. A pair of bright eyes looked out from behind
+gold-rimmed spectacles; about his whole appearance there was a
+suggestion of health, vigour, and clean living. He took both the young
+man's hands in his, looking up at him as at one whom he both esteemed
+and liked.
+
+"You're on the tall side. Stella always did like six-footers. I
+shouldn't wonder if that's the main reason why she's contracted a
+fondness for you."
+
+Rodney laughed.
+
+"It's very good of you, sir, to look me up in this unceremonious way.
+You must join me at breakfast."
+
+"On this occasion I've been an earlier bird than you--I've
+breakfasted--but I will join you in a cup of coffee."
+
+Rodney rang the bell. Miss Joyce entered with the breakfast on a tray.
+As she was placing the various articles on the table the two men
+scarcely spoke. The young man was examining the outsides of three or
+four letters which the morning post had brought; the elder, who had
+taken up his position before the fireplace, was for the most part
+observing Miss Joyce. When she had gone he said:
+
+"That's not a bad-looking young woman. Who is she?"
+
+"She's the landlady's daughter."
+
+"Don't they keep a servant?"
+
+"I fancy they do at intervals, someone who does the rougher work; but
+I'm out all day, and I never see her. So far as I'm concerned, either
+the mother or the daughter does the waiting."
+
+"Are you the only lodger?"
+
+"Oh, no; there's another man upstairs, who's by way of being a booking
+clerk or something. I rather fancy he has an eye in her direction."
+
+"Is that so? Then perhaps that's what worries her. I never saw a young
+girl with a whiter face, or one with such an odd look in her eyes. It
+quite troubled me."
+
+"How are you, sir? Though I don't think I need ask."
+
+"No, you needn't. As always, I'm in the enjoyment of vulgar health;
+nothing ever seems to ail me, though in saying so perhaps I ought to
+touch wood. When I heard from Stella yesterday morning I made up my
+mind that I would come up to town at once and say what I had to say by
+word of mouth, instead of putting it on paper. I arrived in the
+afternoon, hoping to see you in the evening; but I didn't. I can tell
+you that Stella was very badly disappointed. I think she was
+unreasonable; but girls are! You'll have to make your peace to-day. I
+daresay you won't find it very difficult. This is very bad news about
+your uncle. I see the inquest is in the morning's paper."
+
+"Is it, sir? As yet I haven't seen a paper."
+
+"From what I can gather he was suffering from some form of malignant
+disease, and, it seems, in a fit of despair, took his own life. Poor
+fellow! It's easy to judge such cases, but I often feel that God, who
+is love, understands and pardons. I hope I'm saying nothing that I
+ought not to say. Mrs. Austin will have it that I oughtn't to talk
+like that, but that's how I do feel. Will his death make any
+difference to you?"
+
+"Do you mean has he left me anything? No, sir; not a penny."
+
+"What becomes of the business?"
+
+"According to the will it's to be carried on by the managing man for
+the benefit of those mentioned in the will."
+
+"Of whom you're not one?"
+
+"No, sir, I am not."
+
+"Then that makes what I have to say all the easier. I am glad to hear
+that you're going to be Stella's husband; Mrs. Austin is glad to hear
+it; I'm sure Tom will be glad to hear it--in fact, we're all of us
+glad to hear it."
+
+"It's very kind of you to say so, sir, considering what an ineligible
+son-in-law I am. Here is a letter from Tom this morning. Shall I open
+it and see what he says?"
+
+"You needn't. I've no doubt it conveys his congratulations in his own
+vernacular. I know Tom and his letters. There are some things about
+the governance of this world which I don't understand, which shows I
+am not omniscient. Experience teaches me that when a man has a son and
+a good business the son will have none of it, and can with difficulty
+be brought to believe that the business offers a good opening for him;
+whereas if a man has a son and no business, the son is apt to look
+upon it almost as a grievance that his father has no business in which
+to give him an opening. Instances of the kind are so common that I've
+nearly come to look upon them as illustrations of a general rule. Now,
+here am I, and there is Tom, and there's the business, producing, even
+in these competitive days, quite a comfortable number of thousands a
+year. Tom's a born optimist. The only time Eve seen him at all
+pessimistic is when I've suggested that those thousands might as well
+find their way into his pockets; then he's pessimism gone mad. He'd
+sooner raise sheep in Australia, or ranch in Manitoba, or do some
+other ridiculous thing. In fact, he once told me--in such matters he's
+frankness itself--that he'd rather sweep a crossing than be what he
+called imprisoned for life in the warehouse at Leicester. I'll do him
+this justice--that I believe his instincts are right, because I've
+never seen anything about him to lead me to suppose that in him are
+the makings of a business man. That's a pretty quandary for a man to
+be in who has a good business and an only son. Now, Rodney, I've
+always liked you. It's true that I've sometimes felt that a
+decent-looking young fellow occasionally finds it difficult to steer
+clear of quicksands which are represented by nice-looking persons of
+the opposite sex; but I've never had any tangible or serious charge
+to bring against you, and I've no doubt that when you're married
+there'll be only one woman in the world to you, and she will be your
+wife."
+
+As the speaker paused, apparently with the intention of giving the
+other an opening, Rodney said with a smile:
+
+"I'm at least glad, sir, that you've no tangible or serious charge to
+bring against me."
+
+"Well, no, I haven't. At the same time--however, we'll let bygones be
+bygones. I daresay I'd an eye for more than one pretty girl before I'd
+a Mrs. Austin. I do know you're clever, with great charm of manner. I
+sometimes wonder if your manners are not almost too charming; but
+then, I come of a stocky school--no one's ever accused an Austin of
+having a charming manner, and I quite realise that, as things are, in
+business personal charm's a valuable asset; and I've been frequently
+struck by the fact that you're the possessor of a singularly quick
+perception. I think you have what is in reality an instinct, but what
+is called on the Stock Exchange a 'nose.' Again, a thing which in a
+business man is well worth having."
+
+"You seem to have been observing me with unexpectedly flattering
+attention, sir."
+
+"Oh, I've had an eye on you for quite a while. I want you, when you
+are Stella's husband, to come into my business. If you turn out as I
+hope and expect, I'll make you a partner. I've been imprisoned in the
+warehouse all my life, so, as I would like to see more of the world,
+soon as you're ready to take my place I should like you to take it.
+How would that meet your views?"
+
+"Nothing could please me better, sir. I don't know where I shall find
+words with which to thank you even for the suggestion."
+
+"I want no thanks; I want deeds. I'm hopeful that the arrangement will
+turn out to our mutual advantage. Now, Rodney, tell me candidly do you
+love my girl?"
+
+"Let me put question for question. Do you think I'm the kind of man
+who would ask her to be my wife if I didn't?"
+
+"Then why didn't you ask her before?"
+
+"Mr. Austin, you're not quite fair to me."
+
+"How am I unfair?"
+
+"I've loved Stella ever--ever since we were boy and girl together.
+I've tried to break myself of loving her, but I haven't succeeded.
+I've never been able to dream of anyone but her as wife. You were a
+rich man; I was not only penniless, but without prospects. Over and
+over again I've been on the point of telling her what I felt, but I've
+checked myself. It hasn't been easy, but I've done it. I meant to wait
+till I'd some shadow of a right to ask her to be my wife, but last
+Saturday, when I saw her dear face, I--I couldn't hold myself in any
+longer, and that's the truth."
+
+"I'm glad you couldn't. While I'm quite aware that your sentiments do
+you honour, all the same I rather wish that you'd shown a little more
+of the perception with which I've credited you. Rodney, is there any
+reason why the marriage should be postponed?"
+
+"Mr. Austin, I haven't at the moment five pounds in the world to call
+my own. That's the only reason, so far as I'm concerned; but some
+fathers would think it a quite sufficient one."
+
+Mr. Austin's eyes twinkled behind his glasses as he settled his
+spectacles on his nose.
+
+"I suppose they would, if you look at it in that way. You don't paint
+your position too attractively."
+
+"It couldn't be worse than it is."
+
+"You're not in debt?"
+
+"Oh, I'm not in debt; I don't know who'd give me credit if I wanted
+it. I've just enough to live on, as it were, from hand to mouth; but,
+with all the goodwill in the world and all the management, I don't see
+how it's going to be enough for two."
+
+"I see. You put the position with some clearness. As you say, some
+fathers would think it a sufficient reason for postponement, but I'm
+not one of them. As you perhaps know, Stella has some means of her
+own."
+
+"Isn't that one of the reasons why I--I kept quiet for so long?"
+
+"And on her marriage I shall settle a further sum on her, besides
+making other arrangements. For instance, I shall, as I have said, be
+glad to receive you in my business, giving you at the commencement a
+salary which will enable you to contribute towards some of the
+expenses of a wife, with the prospect of a partnership in the early
+future. Now, do you see any reason why there should be any
+postponement so far as you're concerned?"
+
+"I shall be only too delighted to marry Stella next week."
+
+"Next week is a little early perhaps; but what do you say to next
+month?"
+
+"If I'm Stella's husband next month I shall be the happiest man in the
+world."
+
+He looked and sounded as if he meant it.
+
+"You understand that in matters of this sort it is the lady who has
+the final word, but you have my authority to tell Stella that if she
+can see her way to stand with you at the altar in a month or earlier,
+she will make her mother and father happy, to say nothing of you. Now
+suppose you come and spend the day with us?"
+
+"My dear sir! I must go to the City."
+
+"Meaning to your late uncle's office? Why? Can't you scribble a note
+as soon as you've finished breakfast, and make an end of that?"
+
+"It's impossible; I must go to-day."
+
+"Very well. Go to-day, and say you're not coming to-morrow, or ever
+again. Say good-bye."
+
+"I'm afraid that that wouldn't be playing the game. I ought to go, at
+any rate, till the end of the week."
+
+"Very well. Perhaps you're right in not wishing to leave them in the
+lurch, if the departure of such a junior clerk as I understand you are
+would be leaving them in the lurch. Then on Saturday you'll come down
+with me to Leicester, and on Monday I'll introduce you to the
+warehouse. It will be just as well that you should have a look round
+before you're actually installed."
+
+Here was Mr. Austin mapping out everything for him, as he had foreseen
+long ago would be the case if he ever committed himself to Stella;
+treating him as a puppet who would be content to dance when he pulled
+the strings. He had no doubt that Mrs. Austin would be ready to play
+the same motherly part in the management of his domestic affairs. He
+smiled as he thought of it. His would-be father-in-law went on:
+
+"I'm going to write to Mrs. Austin and wire to Tom; I want to arrange
+a little dinner for to-morrow in honour of a certain auspicious event.
+Stella tells me she wants you all to herself to-night, and I'm not to
+interfere. I don't know what she wants you for, I'm sure, but I've
+promised not to interfere. She'll pull a face when she sees you've not
+returned with me, so you come early; after disappointing her twice--on
+Sunday and last night--she'll think that you can't come too early."
+
+"I'll leave the office as early as I can--trust me for that!--rush
+back here, dress, and come right on."
+
+"Dress! You needn't dress! They're homely folk at Kensington, and
+Stella will excuse you; she won't want you to waste, in dressing,
+valuable time which might be spent with her. You come straight on from
+the office in your toil-stained garments. She'll want to know what
+time. Shall I say five? I dare say, at a pinch, you can manage to be
+in Kensington by five."
+
+Rodney considered. If he did go straight on from the office he would
+at least escape the risk of another heated discussion with Miss
+Joyce--that would be something.
+
+"Very well, sir; if Stella will forgive me coming as I am, as you say,
+all toil-stained, I'll try my best to be with her as near as possible
+to five."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XVII
+
+                     THE ACTING HEAD OF THE FIRM
+
+
+Mr. Austin and Rodney left the house together, and so disappointed
+Miss Joyce, who was waiting to have one or two last words with Mr.
+Elmore. Having parted from Mr. Austin, Rodney paid a few calls on his
+way to St. Paul's Churchyard.
+
+To begin with, he went into a jeweller's shop, and bought a ring set
+with pearls and diamonds--a simple, inexpensive trifle, which cost six
+pounds. It was designed for Stella's finger, and was to be her
+engagement ring.
+
+"It won't do," he said to himself, "for it to cost too much, for one
+of her inquiring family will want to know where I got the money from.
+She'll value it none the less because 'I can no more, though poor the
+offering be.'"
+
+Then he looked in at the offices of the White Star Steamship Company,
+and paid a deposit on a berth which he booked on a steamer which was
+to sail from Liverpool to New York on the following Thursday, booking
+it in the name of John Griffiths; then into the offices of the Royal
+Mail Steam Packet Company, where he booked a berth for the following
+Friday, from Southampton to Buenos Ayres, in the name of Charles
+Dickinson; then to the Cunard offices, where he booked for Saturday to
+New York, in the name of Adolphus Ridgway. Afterwards he visited the
+Bishop's Registry, in Doctors' Commons, and there, having made certain
+affidavits, received, in exchange for two sovereigns, a strip of paper
+which authorised him to marry Gladys Patterson, spinster, at any
+church in the London diocese. Thus prepared, as one might suppose, for
+more than one emergency, he paid still another call before proceeding
+to St. Paul's Churchyard--on Clarence Parmiter, solicitor. From him he
+wanted to know what forms it would be necessary to go through to
+enable Miss Patterson to draw on her late father's banking account.
+Mr. Parmiter explained that to do this it would be necessary, first of
+all, to prove Mr. Patterson's will--and it was not usual to do that,
+at any rate, till after the testator was buried. When, Mr. Parmiter
+asked, was the funeral to take place. In spite of himself, his visitor
+smiled; so fast had events come crowding on him that the fact that the
+dead man would have to be put into his grave had entirely escaped his
+notice--so far as he was aware, no arrangements for the funeral had
+been made of any sort or kind. Mr. Parmiter looked as if he felt that
+the smile with which this announcement was made was a little out of
+place. He said that probably Rodney would find that the matter had
+been arranged by one of the executors, or by Miss Patterson herself.
+If cash was wanted in the interim; if Miss Patterson and Mr. Andrews,
+as executor, would attend with him at a bank with which Mr. Patterson
+had an account, he did not doubt that arrangements might be made which
+would provide the lady with such advances as she required; and, of
+course, if she chose, she might instruct the bank to honour any
+cheques which he--Rodney Elmore--might draw, acting on her behalf.
+
+Mr. Elmore left his friend's chambers with a feeling strong upon him
+that the business of getting his uncle's money out of the bank was not
+going to be as simple as he had hoped it would be. Clarence Parmiter
+even told him that the bank would not now honour any cheque which
+Graham Patterson might have drawn while still alive. This he did feel
+was unreasonable; it rendered even forgery futile. If he could wait he
+did not doubt that matters would be perfectly all right; but--could he
+wait? If only certain difficulties could be smoothed away, and he was
+given time, he did not doubt that he would be able to load himself
+with money; but could they be smoothed away, even for a week? Danger
+threatened from so many quarters; he really had been such an utter
+fool. If he had only realised what a fool, he would have taken
+precious good care to walk more warily; he would have been a wiser and
+a better man. But wisdom after the event was easy; what he needed was
+to be ready at a moment's notice for whatever came. He had planned
+escape in three different directions on three following days--if
+he could only get away with enough money to count! There was that
+nest-egg which he had found in his uncle's drawer, but what was that
+to a man in his plight? What he wanted was ten, or even, say, five
+thousand pounds. With five thousand pounds he might do very well on
+the other side of the world.
+
+As, strolling leisurely along, he considered the matter in all its
+bearings calmly, it appeared to him that nothing worth calling money
+could be got at least until the morrow. In the morning he would meet
+his cousin at the bank, with Parmiter and Andrews; the arrangements
+would be made of which Parmiter had spoken; then, immediately after,
+he would be free to lay hands on as much ready cash as the
+arrangements permitted. He had no doubt that everything would be all
+right until to-morrow--he would so manage that it should be; all the
+same, he would have liked to have had a good supply of coin at his
+command, in case. However, it was no use grizzling at what might not
+be. He smiled as he arrived at this conclusion; he was still smiling
+when he reached the office. He marched, as a matter of course, to the
+room which had been his uncle's own particular sanctum, and this time
+no one even as much as hinted nay. Indeed, he was presently followed
+by Andrews, who informed him, with a countenance of decent solemnity,
+that he had made arrangements, which he hoped would meet with his and
+Miss Patterson's approval, for the interment of Mr. Patterson's
+remains in the family vault at Kensal Green, the interment to take
+place upon the morrow--Wednesday. Tickled by certain thoughts of his
+own, Rodney smiled as he listened; but this time, as his face was bent
+over the table, it is possible that the smile went unnoticed. He
+expressed himself as greatly obliged by what Andrews had done, and was
+certain that his feelings would be shared by Miss Patterson. Indeed,
+he was convinced that Miss Patterson would be willing to leave
+everything in his charge, since she would feel assured that everything
+he did would be right and proper and for the best. Mr. Andrews put his
+hand up to his mouth and coughed--the cough of one who was sensible
+that he deserved the compliment which was paid him.
+
+He wanted to know if Mr. Elmore did not think it would be well to
+close the office for the whole of to-morrow, so as to give the staff
+an opportunity of at least attending at the graveside. They had all
+been remembered in the will, and would like to show the last tokens of
+respect for their dead master. Rodney, to whom the notion of marking
+such an occasion as a sort of holiday was novel, informed Andrews that
+the idea was excellent, and that he was at liberty to act in the
+matter as he thought was right. Andrews then wanted to know if Miss
+Patterson would be present, or if he--Rodney Elmore--would represent
+her as chief mourner. The suggestion moved Rodney in a way he would
+not have cared to admit. He had had no intention of attending his
+uncle's funeral at all--and as chief mourner! He to represent his
+cousin in such a capacity! That would be indeed to mock the dead. He
+was conscious of a feeling which surprised himself; he had not
+supposed he was so sensitive.
+
+"I think," he told Andrews, "we must leave these points till later. I
+will consult with Miss Patterson and--observe her wishes. There is
+another matter," he went on. "Access to Mr. Patterson's banking
+account is not so easy as I imagined. My acquaintance with the
+procedure in these cases is nil; I don't know what yours amounts to."
+
+"I know no more than you; this is the first time I find myself in such
+a position. Two payments of some importance are to be made this week;
+I was wondering how they would be met. Of course, if representations
+are made, time will be given."
+
+"But, all the same, you would rather the payments were made? Exactly
+my feelings, Andrews; I want everything to be done in due order. I am
+going to arrange for Miss Patterson to meet you and Mr. Parmiter at
+the bank to-morrow morning, when I am advised that it will be possible
+to make arrangements which will enable us to meet all liabilities as
+they fall due. By the way, I believe that the trading account
+pass-book is in your charge; you might let me look at it."
+
+Rodney examined the book when it was brought to him with great
+attention. He was already posted in certain figures which had to deal
+with his uncle's private account. Customers were brought in to him;
+some who had called in the ordinary course of business, others who had
+come to offer condolences, and so on. Their being brought straight to
+him showed a frank acceptance on Andrews' part of the fact that he was
+to be acting head of the firm; none the less, therefore, he was
+careful that Andrews was present at each of the interviews, referring
+certain matters to him with a little air of deference which won, as it
+was intended to win, the managing man's heart. The customers were
+favourably impressed, agreeing, as they went out, that Graham
+Patterson's mantle had descended on to capable shoulders.
+
+"I shouldn't wonder," declared Mr. Brailson North as he shook hands
+with Mr. Andrews at the outer door, "if he turns out to be every bit
+as good a man as his uncle."
+
+This, coming from a member of one of the largest firms in the City,
+was praise indeed. The managing man's eyes glistened. Anything which
+suggested a compliment to the business, so wrapped up in it was his
+whole existence, was a compliment to him. Since yesterday his ideas on
+the subject of Mr. Elmore had changed.
+
+"Mr. North," he addressed the visitor in a confidential whisper, "Mr.
+Patterson was a good man, an excellent man of business in his way,
+sound and discreet; but between you, me, and this doorpost, I
+shouldn't wonder if the young one was better, with all his uncle's
+soundness and discretion, together with something that his uncle
+hadn't got. He's surprised me! You mark my words, I shouldn't be
+surprised if the house of Graham Patterson--there's going to be no
+alteration in the title--takes its place among the greatest City
+houses--mind you, in the front rank."
+
+Mr. North laughed.
+
+"There's no reason why your prophecy shouldn't come true. This is the
+day of the young man. Your young man has evidently got a head on his
+shoulders; he's a good foundation to build on. If he has grit,
+steadiness, caution, and knows just what sort of structure he would
+raise on it, there's no reason that I know of why he shouldn't build
+anything he likes. I agree with you in thinking that it is possible
+that the house of Graham Patterson is destined to be, in all respects,
+one of the finest in the City of London."
+
+While these things were being said in his praise Rodney Elmore was
+writing to Miss Patterson. He enclosed for her inspection the marriage
+licence he had bought, asked in what church she would like the
+ceremony to take place on Monday, and added that he hoped to be able
+to make all final detailed arrangements with her to-morrow after the
+funeral. He told her of the difficulty which had arisen about getting
+money, asked her to meet him at the bank in the morning at 11.30;
+hoped that afterwards they might lunch together, pointing out that he
+never had lunched with her yet. Since after to-morrow he looked
+forward to being able to spend most of his time with her till Monday,
+and then for ever and a day--and that wouldn't seem a day too
+long!--he said that he felt that it would be better to devote the
+evening to doing certain little things of his own, which, sooner or
+later, would have to be done. By doing them he would clear the decks
+for action, so that, when the time for action came, he would be able
+to devote the whole of his time and, indeed, the whole of his life
+to her. All of which meant that he would not be able to tell her,
+except on paper, that he loved her till they met at the bank
+to-morrow morning.
+
+Before actually slipping it into the envelope, together with this
+edifying epistle, he read the marriage licence carefully through. The
+perusal started him on what, for him, was an unwonted train of
+thought. Already, while still in the first flush of youth, he had
+spoilt his life, brought it to final wreck and ruin. What an extremely
+silly thing to have done! It was characteristic of this young
+gentleman that he never could bring himself to look at anything
+through serious eyes--even death. Whatever his first impulse might be,
+his second was to smile. Life, with all that appertained thereto, was
+such a funny thing. Here was he, with a career on either hand, each of
+which would lead at least to fortune; yet he might have neither. That
+did seem droll. Each was represented by a woman; personally he would
+have preferred that which was represented by Gladys, if only because
+he had no doubt that ere long he would be master not only of the
+business but of her. He was not so sure of Stella. In her he suspected
+an obstinate streak which he feared might be congenital. He had always
+felt that the Austins were, as the head of the house had put it,
+"stocky." He would find them more inclined to manage than to be
+managed. One thing he did know of himself: that he never could be
+managed. He might not put up an open fight--open fighting was not
+precisely in his line--but, if a sustained attempt were made to manage
+him, he would slip away--somehow, that was sure. Therefore, if only
+for the sake of peace and quietude, it would be better to avoid the
+risk. All the same, there was something about Stella which did appeal
+to him. With a sudden smile, slipping the licence and the letter into
+the envelope, he closed the flap.
+
+Then, with pen in hand, as he was about to write the address, he
+started again to think. It was women--girls--who had brought him to
+his present pass, that was how he put it to himself. What Mabel Joyce
+said was perfectly true: he could not be alone with a girl without
+making love to her. It was a physical impossibility; he did not know
+why, but it was. The mischief was that his instinct had not warned him
+they were dangerous, hence his horrid situation. Indeed, it was hard
+that they should be dangerous; they were so pleasant to make love to.
+There were men who cared nothing for women, who went through life
+without making love--real love!--to a single one. How they managed he
+could not think. To him life under such conditions would not be worth
+living. He was a Sybarite. Life meant to him its good things; were
+there better things than women? He doubted it. He thought little of
+men; he had a very high opinion of women; he doubted if he had ever
+met one in whom there was not something to be desired.
+
+Take Mabel Joyce. She was showing him a side of her character whose
+existence he had not suspected. Yet he understood her, quite believed
+her when she said that she was fighting for her life. No one could
+have been sweeter to him than she had been; then she was such a pretty
+little thing, from the tips of her little pink toes to the top of her
+fluffy little head. It could hardly be set down to her as a fault if
+she was sweet no longer. Let him be just! Then there was Gladys, a
+girl of quite a different type; but that was the charm about women,
+there were so many types. He was persuaded that they would have the
+best possible time together, if the fates could only manage to be
+kind. He would make her a model husband, he really would; he rather
+wondered what it would feel like to be a husband, but he did not doubt
+that it would be all right. A little cramped, perhaps; but he would
+study her, and her interests, in every possible way. She should never
+regret the father she had lost, who was precious little loss after
+all. He would be better to her than a father; he should rather think
+so! Then there was Mary Carmichael; but at the thought of Mary
+Carmichael his pulses began to dance--that any man should be ass
+enough to care nothing for women when there was Mary Carmichael! Also,
+let him not forget little Stella--why, what an idiot he was; she was
+waiting for him now! He glanced at his watch. Great Scott! how the
+time had flown! And that poor child was longingly waiting for him to
+put his arms about her and stifle her with kisses. That he should be
+brute enough to let her wait!
+
+He addressed the envelope, rang the bell, bade the lad who answered
+take it at once to Russell Square, took his hat off its peg, and,
+after a few hurried words to Andrews as he went out, started off for
+Kensington.
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER XVIII
+
+                          THE PERFECT LOVER
+
+
+Stella, opening the door for him herself, was at him like a small wild
+thing.
+
+"I thought you were never coming!"
+
+"Why, it's not yet half-past five."
+
+"Half-past five! when I expected papa to bring you with him, and he
+said you'd be here by five! Come in here; I'll talk to you!"
+
+She took from him his hat and stick and gloves, and placed them on a
+table in the hall; then she led him by the sleeve of his coat into a
+room on the left, and shut the door, and drew a long breath.
+
+"Oh--h--h! So you've come at last, my lord! Let me look at you, to
+make sure that it is you. Oh, Rodney, why have you been so long in
+coming?"
+
+She put her arms about his neck and drew him down to her and kissed
+him. He said, softly:
+
+"I do believe you have grown shorter."
+
+"You wretch! To let a thing like that be your first word to me!"
+
+"It's such a long way down, though it's well worth stooping for."
+
+He kissed her again, tenderly, on her pretty lips--he was an expert in
+the art of kissing. Because he did it so well, she, not knowing that
+such skill came of practice, had him kiss her again and again and
+again, till the breath had half gone out of her body and she was all
+rapturous palpitation.
+
+"If you only knew what ages it seems since I saw you!"
+
+"Stella, what do you think it has seemed to me? If you only knew what
+I have gone through!"
+
+"Poor boy! I suppose you have had to bear a good deal."
+
+"You have no notion what I've had to bear."
+
+That was true enough, or she would not have been as close to him as
+she was.
+
+"It was bad enough when you didn't come on Sunday. I suppose you
+didn't get back from that Mrs. What's-her-name, your mother's friend,
+in time?"
+
+"My dear, I had a chapter of accidents, and nearly missed the last
+train; I'll tell you all about it some day, and you'll laugh. I didn't
+feel like laughing then, I can tell you that."
+
+"And I didn't feel like laughing, and I can tell you that. In fact,
+I--I cried."
+
+"Stella!"
+
+"I did; it seemed so awful. That was the longest Sunday I ever knew;
+and then when the evening came I kept expecting you every moment; I
+kept rushing out of the front door to look for you. Every footstep in
+the street I thought was yours, and every vehicle the hansom which was
+bringing you; when it kept getting later and later, and still you
+didn't come, I--I fancied all sorts of things, and I simply had to
+cry."
+
+"My darling, I would infinitely rather have been with you than where I
+was."
+
+That again was true enough; part of the time he had been in the
+tunnel--a gruesome time.
+
+"What time was it when you did get back?"
+
+"Frightfully late; but--Stella, you won't tell anyone if I tell you
+something? Promise!"
+
+"Of course I promise. What--what is it?"
+
+"You can laugh if you like; I don't mind your laughing a little bit;
+but I don't want them to laugh."
+
+"Why should they laugh?"
+
+"I did come to see you--after I came back."
+
+"Rodney!"
+
+"At least, I came as far as the outside of the house. I dismissed the
+cab at the corner; then I walked--or rather sneaked--along the
+pavement; if a bobby had seen me he'd have been all suspicion--till I
+reached the house. It was all in darkness; there wasn't a glimmer of
+light anywhere."
+
+"What time was it?"
+
+"About one, perhaps later."
+
+"Rodney, I'd been in my room hours and hours; but I wasn't asleep; I
+was crying in bed."
+
+"Stella! You were crying! Great Scott! if--if I'd only known it,
+I'd--I'd have done something."
+
+"What would you have done?"
+
+"I'd--I'd have done something if--if I'd had to break a window!"
+
+"But what good would your breaking a window have done me?"
+
+"Anyhow, it would have been a beginning; but, you see, I didn't even
+know which your room was--whether you were at the front or the back."
+
+"I'm on the second floor in the front; my window's over the hall
+door."
+
+"I kept staring at it all the time; I had a sort of feeling--I swear I
+had a sort of feeling! If I'd only been sure I'd have whistled."
+
+"Whistled! At one in the morning! What would have been the good of
+that?"
+
+"Suppose, say, I'd whistled 'The Devout Lover'--or what I should have
+meant for 'The Devout Lover'--you'd have heard."
+
+"I probably should have heard; Miss Claughton would probably have
+heard also."
+
+"Oh, hang Miss Claughton!"
+
+"Rodney! Miss Claughton's a dear--and your hostess!"
+
+"Miss Claughton may be an absolute angel for all I know--you know what
+I mean--so long as you heard I shouldn't have cared who heard. Then
+you'd have wondered who was kicking up that awful row."
+
+"Do you think I should?"
+
+"Certain! I can't whistle for nuts. Then you'd have got out of bed,
+crossed the room with your dear little bare feet----"
+
+"Rodney!"
+
+"And lifted the corner of the blind."
+
+"I might."
+
+"When you'd seen me hanging on to the railings for all I was worth,
+trying to get my breath and whistle at the same time; you'd have
+stopped crying, whatever else you did."
+
+"Rodney, how absurd you are! Fancy your hanging on to the railings for
+all you were worth! What did you really do?"
+
+"Oh, I hung about and hung about, and then I slunk off home. Wasn't it
+silly to come and see you at that time of night? I knew you'd laugh!"
+
+"If I'd known you were there I shouldn't have cried. The idea, you
+darling! But, Rodney, why didn't you manage to get a peep at me the
+whole of yesterday?"
+
+"Do you think I didn't try?--but I couldn't; it was a day of horrors!
+Just as I was wondering if I couldn't manage to get at least a kiss by
+making out that Kensington was on the way to the City, the news came
+of what my uncle had done. That was a facer, for a man to get news
+like that just as he was finishing his breakfast."
+
+"But I thought you didn't get the news till you reached the City? You
+sent your first telegram from there."
+
+"I got the news before, but I didn't understand; I didn't want to
+understand, I didn't dare to understand. Then I had to go to the
+inquest."
+
+"Did you? It doesn't say anything in the paper about you being there."
+
+"Of course not; my evidence wasn't wanted after all, but we all of us
+had to be there. It was awful!"
+
+"You poor, poor boy! Afterwards why didn't you come straight to me?"
+
+"I couldn't; I had to rush off to the City."
+
+"But why?"
+
+"Everything was in the most frightful confusion; no one knew why he
+had done it."
+
+"But there was the verdict!"
+
+"The verdict? My uncle was not a man to kill himself for a shadow;
+there might be a better reason. Say nothing to your father; I wish to
+impute nothing against my uncle's credit; but at one time it seemed
+just possible that he had done it, because he knew he was ruined, to
+save himself from shame, dishonour. We had to find out, to be certain,
+to make sure; we went all through the books; we went through
+everything; we were at it till the small hours of the morning."
+
+"My dear! Did they tell you I had called?"
+
+"Did they not! When I heard it I wished that I could have flown to you
+on a flying machine; but it was impossible."
+
+"But papa tells me that you talk about going to the office every day
+this week."
+
+"Stella, let me put a case. Suppose Mr. Austin were my uncle, and he
+had done what my uncle did, and everything were at sixes and sevens,
+and all the help was wanted that could be got, what would you think of
+me if I were to cut and run--it would amount to that!--even for the
+sake of the best and sweetest and prettiest and dearest girl in the
+world--meaning you?"
+
+"That's all very well, Rodney; but I asked papa if he thought you
+really had to go--if you ought to go; and he said that so far as he
+could make out there wasn't the least necessity why you should ever
+set foot in the office again."
+
+"Your father said that?"
+
+"And I believe he's been making inquiries."
+
+"Has he? When I see your father I shall have to tell him that this is
+a matter in which I am afraid I shall have to use my own judgment."
+
+"At least you can get one day off to take me out--say to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow! It's my uncle's funeral."
+
+"Well? There's no reason why you should go to it, if it is. Who
+expects you to go?"
+
+For a moment it seemed as if the question had left the ready-tongued
+young gentleman nonplussed; but it was only for a moment.
+
+"My dear Stella, isn't it sufficient answer to say that my uncle was
+the only relative I have in the world?"
+
+"My dear Rodney, I don't wish to comment on your sudden sensitiveness
+where your uncle is concerned. I never dreamt that you felt for him
+what you seem to feel; but I suppose your connection with him will
+cease when he is buried?"
+
+"In a sense, certainly."
+
+"In all senses?"
+
+"My dear Stella, I have already told you."
+
+"To whom has he left his business?"
+
+"Until the contents of the will are known who can say--positively?"
+
+"Has he left it to you?"
+
+"That I am quite sure he hasn't."
+
+"Has he left you anything?"
+
+"There again, till the will is read, who can be sure?"
+
+"When is the will to be read?"
+
+"To-morrow, after the funeral."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"At his house in Russell Square."
+
+"Are you invited to be present?"
+
+"'Invited' is scarcely the correct word; instructions have been issued
+that the whole staff is to attend. That rather looks as if he may have
+left something, possibly some trifle, to everyone who was actually in
+his employ at the time of his death."
+
+"I see. That explains why you want to be present at the funeral. And
+afterwards, when the will has been read, will you--dine with us? Papa
+wants me to dine, I think, at the Savoy, to what he calls 'celebrate'
+our engagement."
+
+"You may be sure I'll come if I can."
+
+"'If'! It's again 'if.' Is it to be all 'ifs '?"
+
+"My dearest Stella, what do you mean?"
+
+"It doesn't matter. Shall we go to the drawing-room? I think we shall
+find that the Miss Claughtons and papa are waiting for us there."
+
+The young lady turned as if to leave the room. He caught her by the
+arm.
+
+"Stella, is it possible, is it conceivable, that you can imagine that
+what has happened is in the least degree, in any sense my fault? Can
+you suppose that I would not ten thousand times rather spend every
+hour of every day with you than do what I have done, what I may still
+have to do?--that my heart, my thoughts, are not with you every
+instant I have to spend in that confounded City?"
+
+"Rodney, I am very anxious to believe that there are sufficient
+reasons which compel you to spend all the time you seem to spend in
+the City; but you don't manage to make it very clear what they are."
+
+"Stella! Stella! How can you talk like that? What shall I say? What
+can I do?"
+
+"You can promise to dine with us to-morrow night."
+
+"I gladly promise it--gladly."
+
+"There's no 'if' about the promise?"
+
+"No 'if'! If you only knew how I shall look forward to coming, what
+pleasure I shall give myself in coming! My dear, if you only knew how
+I am looking forward to dining with you all the days of all the year!"
+
+"And, Rodney, papa understand that you are coming into his business;
+is that what you understand?"
+
+"Rather! You bet it is, if he'll have me. Do you think I'd throw away
+a chance like that?"
+
+"Nothing that may be in your uncle's will will make any difference?"
+
+"You goose! What do you suppose will be there? The probability is that
+there will be nothing of the slightest interest to me--at the most
+some trivial legacy--a hundred, fifty, five-and-twenty pounds! But let
+me tell you this, that in the present state of my exchequer even the
+latter sum will be a godsend. You don't know what it is to be in a
+chronic state of impecuniosity--a little millionaire like you!"
+
+"I, a millionaire!"
+
+"You don't appreciate the situation; you really don't. Entirely
+between us, I wonder that I ever had the courage--the cheek!--to
+tell you how much I love you; how dear to me is the ground under
+your small feet; how I long to have you in my arms--you, with the
+Bank of England at your back; and I! But--Cæsar's ghost!--what am I
+dreaming about? The sight of you, the touch of you, the sound of you,
+has so--so got into the very bones of me that I'd clean forgotten.
+Why--Stella!--what's this?"
+
+He took a small, round, leather-covered box out of his waistcoat
+pocket.
+
+"My dear Rodney--how should I know what it is?"
+
+As she looked at the outside of the box her eyes began to sparkle--as
+if she did not know!
+
+"There! Why, it's a ring!"
+
+"What a pet."
+
+"Give me your hand!"
+
+"That's not the proper hand."
+
+"Isn't it? Which is the proper hand?"
+
+"Rodney! How ignorant you are!"
+
+"My dear, have I had your experience?"
+
+"My experience!--silly! I thought everybody knew on which hand the
+engagement finger was--there!--that is the finger!"
+
+She held out to him a finger which, if it was small, was slim and
+daintily fashioned. He bent and kissed it.
+
+"Dear digit!--salutation! Now, you unclothed midget, I'll clothe you
+with this ring."
+
+"Oh, Rodney, what--what a darling!"
+
+She pressed it to her lips.
+
+"Does it fit?"
+
+"As if it were made for me."
+
+"Isn't that wonderful, when I only guessed?"
+
+"Thank you--thank you, Rodney."
+
+"It's only a poor little ring--a love token, to mark you as my
+own--that's all. But one day I'll give you the finest ring that money
+can buy, and you can put it in the place of this."
+
+"As if I ever would--or could! Rodney, this is the most beautiful ring
+I have ever seen--ever, ever, ever! And it always will be the most
+beautiful ring in the world--to me. No other will ever take its
+place."
+
+Her voice fell as she moved a little closer to him.
+
+"I shall hope to be still wearing it when I am lying in my grave."
+
+"Dear love!"
+
+He took her in his arms and kissed her again, as it were, solemnly. He
+was practised in all varieties of the art. And they were silent.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XIX
+
+               THE FEW WORDS AT THE END OF THE EVENING
+
+
+There were five of them at dinner--the lovers, the lady's father, her
+two hostesses--the Misses Claughton. These were cousins of her mother.
+Miss Claughton was tall and straight and prim; Miss Nancy Claughton,
+the younger sister, was stout and tender. Both ladies were disposed to
+make a fuss of Rodney, to invest him with a sort of halo, as if, in
+asking Stella to be his wife, he had done something which marked him
+out as an unusual young man. Mr. Austin's inclination was towards
+jocosity. Rodney had long since decided that a sense of humour was not
+that gentleman's strongest point. Dry he could be, he had rather an
+effective trick of it; but funny--no. His persistent efforts to be
+funny did not improve the flavour of what, from the young gentleman's
+point of view, was a sufficiently homely repast. The soup was
+doubtful, one could not be sure if it was meant to be clear or thick;
+the cod was boiled to rags--and, anyhow, he hated cod; the mutton was
+overdone; the sweets were suited to the nursery. Under the
+circumstances it was perhaps as well that, between Mr. Austin's jokes,
+the question chiefly discussed was where they should dine on the
+morrow. It was some consolation, Rodney felt, that there was a
+prospect of a decent meal after the passage of another four-and-twenty
+hours. The gentlemen did not remain at table when the feast was done;
+Mr. Austin was a teetotaller, and Rodney, when he had tasted Miss
+Claughton's claret, wished he was; so there was no temptation to
+linger over the wine. In the drawing-room they had "music." Stella
+played and sang. Rodney, whose taste in music was as fastidious as in
+other things, would have been content had she done neither. She had
+not got a bad little voice; from the point of view of those who liked
+little voices of the kind; but he had always been of opinion that it
+was worth more to the professors of singing than to anybody else.
+Still, she sang straight at him, and for him only; so it was not so
+bad. Presently Mr. Austin vanished, and the Misses Claughton followed.
+So he put his arm about Stella's waist, and that was better. She was
+even more disposed to be made love to after dinner than before, and
+somehow she seemed prettier and sweeter and more desirable to him.
+Under such conditions he was the kind of young man who was bound to
+shine.
+
+After a while--quite an agreeable while--he led the conversation on to
+the subject which Mr. Austin had broached in the morning. The lady
+lent a complacent ear.
+
+"Stella, I have a very serious question which I wish to put to you."
+
+"What is it? If you can be serious."
+
+"You will find I can when you have heard my question; I pray you
+incline your little pink ears unto my question. Will you marry me?"
+
+"Perhaps, some day--silly!"
+
+"When is 'some day'?"
+
+"When would you like it to be?"
+
+"This day; to-night."
+
+"Rodney, you--you really mustn't talk like that."
+
+"Why mustn't I?"
+
+"You only proposed last Saturday."
+
+"Well. Allow a week for that fact to get fixed firmly in your mind,
+another for preparation, why shouldn't 'some day' be Saturday week?"
+
+"Don't be ridiculous."
+
+"It's you who are ridiculous. If you keep me waiting long I shall kiss
+you all away."
+
+"Am I the only girl you've ever kissed?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"That's a fib; I saw you kiss Mary."
+
+"Gracious! When?"
+
+"Have you been so much in the habit of kissing Mary that you need ask
+when?"
+
+"If by Mary you mean Miss Carmichael, I don't remember to have ever
+kissed her once."
+
+"Well, I remember. And let me tell you something, sir: there have been
+times when--I've been jealous of Mary."
+
+"Good gracious me! what an extraordinary child! Miss Carmichael's sole
+recommendation to me has been that she's your friend; besides, hasn't
+Tom an eye on her?"
+
+"Oh, Tom! Tom never would see anything--like that; but I see.
+Honestly, don't you think Mary's very pretty?"
+
+"She's not bad, in a way; but she's not to be compared with you."
+
+"That she certainly isn't; you don't imagine that you can make me
+believe that I'm--a tenth part as pretty as Mary? Do you take me for a
+perfect goose?"
+
+"Stella, do you remember what you said before dinner about the ring.
+You said--I don't know if you meant it."
+
+"I meant every word I said, Rodney."
+
+"Well, sweetheart, you said it was the most beautiful ring you had
+ever seen. Just as you said that, and meant it, I say and mean that
+you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen; and, to me, you will
+be the most beautiful girl, as long as I live."
+
+"Do you really mean that? Really?"
+
+"By the time we're--Darby and Joan, you'll know I mean it. Now, young
+woman, I'm as one who speaks with authority. I'm authorised to inform
+you that if you will stand with me at the altar inside a month you
+will make your mother happy and your father happy, to say nothing of
+me. So which day next month is it to be? Shall I put it at the first?"
+
+"Who told you to say that?"
+
+"Your own father, this morning as ever was."
+
+"Was--was the idea yours or his?"
+
+"My very dearest--small one----"
+
+"I'm not so small as all that! You're not to call me small!"
+
+"Well, all-that-my-heart-desireth, which you are, I will tell you with
+such precision as is in me. I said to him: 'I want her! I do want her!
+Oh, I want her badly! But, if I have to earn her, I'll have to wait
+for her, I dare not think how long.' Then he said to me--exactly what
+I've told you; and my heart sang. Do you doubt? Ask him! To me the
+point is: shall we say the first?"
+
+"Rodney, do try to be sensible! You're a man, and you can't
+understand."
+
+"Is that so? So long as you do."
+
+"To a girl her wedding day is the day of her life."
+
+"Some girls manage to have several wedding days, so I suppose they
+have two or three days in their lives."
+
+"There will be only one wedding day in my life. Whatever happens I
+want that to be, in every sense, a wonderful day; I want mine to be a
+pretty wedding."
+
+"With you as bride that's assured."
+
+"A really pretty wedding can't be arranged at a moment's notice; it
+takes time."
+
+"Half an hour--or three-quarters?"
+
+"Don't be so silly! Mamma's coming up to town to-morrow. I'll consult
+her; then I shall have some idea how long a time it will take."
+
+"You mean how short a time! Do mean how short a time!"
+
+"Well, how short a time. Rodney, how many bridesmaids would you like
+me to have?"
+
+"Bridesmaids? My dear! What are bridesmaids to me, so long as I've the
+bride? All--all--all I'm going to be married to is the bride!"
+
+"You are--a perfect----"
+
+"Yes? A perfect--what?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know! Rodney?"
+
+She hid her face upon his shoulder.
+
+"I always wondered what there was in a kiss to make a fuss about.
+Now--I know."
+
+When he left it had been practically settled that the wedding should
+take place on the earliest possible day of the ensuing month.
+
+He walked home, by way of Kensington High Street and the Park. And as
+he walked he mused, and more than once his musings moved him to
+something very much like laughter, out there in the solitude and the
+dark. Was ever man before in such a complication--promised at three
+weddings as bridegroom? As he tried to puzzle out how it all had come
+about it struck him as quite inconceivably comical. If he told the
+story to the ladies themselves they could scarcely fail to see how
+funny it was--at least, he hoped they would. The position would be
+simple enough if, as is still the custom in some of the more civilised
+countries of the world, a man could have wives galore. But if it came
+to choosing, why, there would be the rub. Mabel had her points; who
+knew it better than he? While as for Stella, he had never dreamed she
+was so charming. With her kisses still on his lips, her soft voice
+still in his ears, her pretty eyes still looking into his, how could
+he help but love her! Dear little Stella! A week all alone with her,
+even a fortnight--he would like to have the chance of it. Perhaps,
+after a fortnight, a little relaxation might be desirable, a sort of
+change of air. But why look so far ahead? Then there was Mary--but he
+dare not think of Mary Carmichael, even then. If he had ten thousand a
+year, and freedom, he would choose Mary Carmichael before all the
+girls he had ever met. But that was out of the question; he had better
+put her out of his mind. Things were already sufficiently complicated
+without adding her. On the whole, the circumstances being what they
+were, considering the position with the judicial calmness which was
+becoming, he plumped for Gladys; and--the business in St. Paul's
+Churchyard. Gladys Patterson should be his wife; yes, she should be
+his wife, on all accounts; on all!--if--if it was not necessary to
+take a voyage to foreign parts.
+
+In that room on the second floor of the house in Kensington, Stella
+Austin, in her nightdress, her pretty hair hanging in two long plaits
+down her back, was on her knees beside her bed, seeming such a child.
+She was thanking God for all His goodness to her--she always began her
+prayers by thanking God. She thanked Him for many things, but chiefly,
+and beyond all else, for having given her so thoughtful, so tender, so
+true a lover. God knew how happy He had made her, and how full her
+heart was of gratitude to Him. And she prayed that God would make her
+worthy of the lover He had given. She knew how, in so many ways, he
+was above her, above anything she might ever hope to be; she prayed
+God that He would give her strength and grace, so that she might be at
+least a little more deserving. She had been unkind to-night, and--and
+wickedly jealous; she knew she had. Please God make her kinder and
+less selfish! And, when the time came, please God, make her a good
+wife, a good wife!
+
+At this point articulate utterance ceased, her face fell forward on
+the coverlet because her eyes were streaming with tears. It was to her
+such a solemn and beautiful thought that she would before very long be
+Rodney Elmore's wife that she trembled with the very rapture of it, so
+that she could no longer even go on with her prayers.
+
+
+                           *   *   *   *   *
+
+
+When Mr. Elmore reached his lodgings, with the exception of the light
+in his sitting-room, the house was in darkness. But if that signified
+that the household had retired to rest, it did not follow that
+everyone was asleep, as he was presently to learn. He had only been in
+his room a couple of minutes when the door opened noiselessly--to
+admit Miss Joyce. Coming right in, she stood with her back to the
+door, which she closed behind her. She was in a state of undress which
+did not become her ill. As he eyed her Rodney compared her, mentally,
+with Stella; not to her disadvantage. She really was a good-looking
+girl; only--he did not like the look which was on her white face and
+in her eyes. He felt sure someone would notice it, and questions would
+be asked.
+
+She spoke in so faint a whisper that what she said was only just
+audible; his voice was lowered in sympathy with hers.
+
+"Mother's come back."
+
+"Has she? That's good hearing. I hope she had a good time at your
+aunt's."
+
+"I've got the licence."
+
+"The----? Oh, have you? That also is good hearing."
+
+"It cost me two pounds four and six."
+
+"Did it? I hope you consider it to be worth the money."
+
+"I've fixed it for Thursday at noon."
+
+"Noon? Isn't that--rather an unfashionable hour?"
+
+"Mind you're there! You've promised! I've got your promise."
+
+"Am I likely to forget--the circumstances under which you got my
+promise?"
+
+"If you're not there you'll be sorry."
+
+"Honestly, Mabel, I think we shall both of us be sorry."
+
+"You will! There's--there's another thing; I--I want to warn you."
+
+"Warn me? Haven't you done that once or twice already?"
+
+"I--I want to warn you against Mr. Dale."
+
+"Against Mr. Dale? Why?"
+
+"I believe he suspects."
+
+"Suspects? What? About you and me?"
+
+"About--your uncle."
+
+"What does he suspect about my uncle?"
+
+"He's been finding out things. Ssh! there's someone moving. Perhaps
+it's mother; she mustn't find me here, like this."
+
+She flitted from the room as noiselessly as she had entered, shutting
+the door without its making a sound. He stood and listened. Perhaps it
+was her conscience which had made her fancy noises--all seemed still.
+If she had ascended to her room on the landing, a ghost could not have
+moved more silently.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XX
+
+                    THE FIRST LINE OF AN OLD SONG
+
+
+Rodney Elmore had the unusual attribute of seeming at his best in the
+morning, as if calm, unruffled sleep, having removed the cobwebs from
+his brain, returned him rested and buoyant to a world in which there
+were no shadows. When, on the Wednesday morning, he came downstairs
+with light steps and dancing eyes, he found among the letters on the
+breakfast table one which was addressed in a familiar hand. He gave it
+pride of place.
+
+
+"MY DEAR R.,--I don't know what possesses me, but I feel that I simply
+must write and tell you that I wish you were within kissing distance.
+Isn't that a ridiculous feeling to have, especially where you're
+concerned? Do you think that I don't know? I have been conscious of
+the most extraordinary sensations since Sunday. I made a mistake
+in asking you to come and console me. You did it so effectually
+that--well, I would like you to continue the treatment. There's a
+dreadful thing to say! Aren't I a wretch? Poor dear Tom! I know he has
+all the good qualities I haven't, and that he'll make me the best
+husband in the world, but as for his consoling me--oh, dear! oh, dear!
+oh, dear! I don't like the idea at all! I'm nearly sure that, after
+all, the best husband in the world is not the one I'm looking for.
+What makes me feel so all over pins and needles when I'm with Tom,
+and so comfy when I'm with you? Isn't it odd? Have you any feeling of
+the kind where I'm concerned? I know you'll say so, but have you?
+You'd say anything to anyone, but, all the same, I've a feeling
+somewhere that, if I chose, I could have you on a little bit of
+string. I daren't ask you to come here again, I simply daren't; but,
+if you do come, mind you give me proper warning. What would you say
+if I ran up to town? Should I see Stella at the corner of every
+street? Sweet Stella! Aren't I a cat? I suppose you couldn't rob a
+bank or something? If you and I were starting off to-morrow together,
+ever so far, for ever so long--I dare not think of it, and that's
+the honest truth. Aren't I insane? No one but you would ever guess
+it.--M.
+
+"Mind you tear this up the very moment you have read it, and you're to
+forget that you ever did read it!
+
+"By the way, by which train did you go up on Sunday? You weren't sure
+that you could catch the Pullman, and, if you did miss it, did you go
+by the 9.10? In that case you must have been in the same train as your
+uncle. When I saw about it in the paper it gave me quite a shock.
+Fancy if he was in the next carriage to yours? I suppose the dear man
+hasn't left you a millionaire? If he only had! You would--wouldn't
+you?
+
+"Tear it up!"
+
+
+He had just finished reading this somewhat interjectional epistle when
+Miss Joyce came in, the bearer of his morning meal. He greeted her as
+if he were really pleased to see her.
+
+"The top of the morning to you, Baby! How moves the world your way? Do
+you feel like dancing on your pink toes?"
+
+When he called her Baby, the pet name he had for her, she glanced up
+at him, almost as if she were startled.
+
+"Did you understand what I said to you last night?"
+
+"Perfectly; I've been thinking it all over, and I've come to a
+decision. I think you're quite right in what you wish me to do. As
+this isn't Leap Year, let me regularise the position. Mabel, I would
+like you to be my wife. Will you take me for your husband?"
+
+"You say that because you know you can't help yourself."
+
+"You are mistaken. If I didn't want to be your husband, nothing you or
+anyone could say or do could make me, rest assured of that. I won't
+pretend that, if things had turned out differently, I--should have
+suggested it; but, as they are, please, Mabel, let me do the
+proposing--say you will be my wife."
+
+"I'm going to be your wife; to-morrow, Thursday, at noon, and don't
+you make any mistake. There's the address of the registrar's office at
+which you're going to be married, and mind you're there to time."
+
+"Baby--you are only a baby, after all--don't talk like that; don't
+let's enter the matrimonial state as if we wished to cut each other's
+throats; let's start afresh on the old terms. I hope that when we're
+being married you won't have those white cheeks and unhappy eyes, or
+the registrar will think that I'm frightening you into being my bride,
+and you know that will be wrong."
+
+"Rodney, do you care for me a little bit?"
+
+"My dear Mabel, I care for you in an altogether different fashion from
+that which you suppose, as I hope to be able to prove to you before
+very long. Come, let's be friends."
+
+"Don't touch me--don't! Mother's waiting for me. She wants me for
+something; she told me not to be long. I--I want to speak to you
+before I go. I--I want to warn you against Mr. Dale."
+
+"You said something to that effect last night. Is Mr. Dale so
+dangerous?"
+
+"He's jealous of you."
+
+"Well, does that constitute him dangerous?"
+
+"He always has been throwing out nasty hints about you."
+
+"To whom? Surely not to you? You wouldn't listen to what you yourself
+call nasty hints about me coming from a man like Dale?"
+
+"It wasn't so much that I listened as that he was always at it
+whenever he came near me. I couldn't stop him. I suppose that my
+asking him about your going to Brighton on Sunday, and my going to the
+inquest, and such-like, made him--made him----"
+
+"Yes? Made him what?"
+
+"Started him thinking. Anyhow, he's--he's been finding out things,
+and--I don't know that he hasn't found out. You take care of him!"
+
+"My dear Mabel, in what sense am I to take care of him? I'm inclined
+to think that I should rather like to have a talk with your friend Mr.
+Dale."
+
+"You'll do no good by that."
+
+"Shan't I? We'll see. Where is he to be found--in the booking office
+at Victoria Station?"
+
+"One week he goes early and comes back about six; the next he has his
+dinner first and doesn't come back till after one--this is his late
+week. He hasn't had his breakfast yet; he's still up in his room."
+
+"Is that so? I'm afraid I can't stop to talk to him just now, but I
+certainly will take the first chance which offers."
+
+"Don't you say anything to him to make him nasty!"
+
+A feminine voice was heard calling the young lady's name.
+
+"There's mother calling. She'll give me a talking to! Mind, to-morrow
+at noon; and there's the address upon that piece of paper."
+
+"My dear Mabel, I'm making arrangements which will permit of my
+placing the whole of to-morrow at your service. I promise that you
+shall have something like a wedding day."
+
+When the lady had gone the gentleman poured himself out a cup of
+coffee with the air of one who was in the enjoyment of an excellent
+joke. He propped Miss Carmichael's letter up against the coffee-pot
+and read it through again. The second reading seemed to add to his
+sense of enjoyment.
+
+"Rob a bank? Quite as heinous crimes have been committed for the sake
+of a woman. I've always had a kind of fancy that you're the type of
+girl for whom it would be worth one's while to do such things. If I
+were to ask you to start upon that little trip at which you hint, I
+wonder what you'd say--if you knew. Hullo! what's this?"
+
+He was staring at a sheet of paper which he had taken out of one of
+the three or four envelopes which were lying on the table. On it were
+a couple of typewritten lines:
+
+
+"If you take a friend's advice you will get clean away while you have
+still a chance."
+
+
+He regarded the words as if in doubt as to whether they were intended
+to convey to him an esoteric meaning.
+
+"No signature, no address, no date; the first anonymous communication
+I ever have been favoured with. Postmark on the envelope, Kew,
+dispatched from there last night at eight o'clock, which doesn't
+convey much intelligence to me. So far as I'm aware I have no
+acquaintance who resides at Kew; and I suppose an anonymous
+correspondent, if he had his head screwed on, is scarcely likely to
+reside in the district from which he sends his letter. It's very good
+of a friend to make a friendly suggestion, but quite what he means I
+do not know; nor have I the very dimmest notion who the friend may be.
+Come in!"
+
+Someone had tapped at the door. In response to his invitation a young
+man entered of about his own age; not tall, but sturdily built, with
+close-cut black hair, small dark eyes, and a somewhat voluminous
+moustache. There was that in his manner which hinted that he was in a
+state of some excitement; that, indeed, he was an excitable young man.
+He came right up to the table, with a billycock hat in one hand and a
+bamboo cane in the other. He looked at Elmore with what were scarcely
+friendly eyes. When he spoke it was in what evidently were lowered
+tones and with a curious, staccato utterance, as if he wished to throw
+his words into the other's face.
+
+"You'll have to excuse my coming in like this, but I'm going out, and
+I want to speak to you before I do go."
+
+"That's very good of you. I believe you are Mr. Dale."
+
+"My name is Dale--George Dale, as you very well know."
+
+"Pray sit down, Mr. Dale. I don't remember to have had the pleasure of
+being introduced to you before."
+
+"Thanking you all the same, I won't sit down, and as to being
+introduced to you, I never have been. It's only for your sake I'm
+speaking to you now. I want to ask you a question to begin with."
+
+"Ask it, Mr. Dale."
+
+"What are your intentions as regards Miss Joyce?"
+
+"Really, Mr. Dale, I don't know if you are joking in putting such a
+question. If you aren't I certainly don't know what you mean."
+
+Rodney smiled at his visitor pleasantly; but the smile, instead of
+affording Mr. Dale gratification, not only caused his scowl to deepen,
+but induced him to use language of unexpected vigour.
+
+"You're a liar! That's what you are--a liar! You're a liar, because
+you know quite well what I mean. I'm not afraid of you. You're a
+bigger man than I am, but I can use the gloves. You wouldn't knock me
+out so easy as you think. I'd mark you first! But I haven't come here
+to fight you."
+
+"That, at least, is gratifying intelligence, Mr. Dale."
+
+"Oh, you can sneer--you're one of the sneering sort; but sneers won't
+do you any good. You take my tip and get as far away from this as
+you can--out of England, if you can!--between now and this time
+to-morrow!"
+
+Rodney regarded his visitor with an air of placid amusement, which
+certainly did not seem to have a soothing effect.
+
+"Mr. Dale, am I indebted to you for this?"
+
+He held out the sheet of paper on which were the two typewritten
+lines. Mr. Dale eyed it askance.
+
+"What's that? Where did you get it from?"
+
+"It came by this morning's post--from you?"
+
+"That I'll swear it never did; what's more, I don't know who it does
+come from. That looks as if there were more than one in it. I'll
+commit myself to nothing. I've got myself to think of as well as you;
+but, although this didn't come from me, and I don't know anything at
+all about it, you do what it says here--get clean away while you have
+still a chance."
+
+Without another word, or giving Rodney a chance to utter one, Mr. Dale
+bolted from, rather than left, the room; within ten seconds of his
+going the slamming of the front door announced that he had left the
+house. For some seconds Elmore sat still; then, getting up from his
+chair, began to fill a pipe with tobacco. Miss Joyce put her head into
+the room, noiselessly, unexpectedly, as she seemed to have a trick of
+doing.
+
+"Was that Mr. Dale? I thought it might be you. Has he been in here?"
+
+"He has. You come in and take away the breakfast things; I've had all
+I want to eat."
+
+Coming in, she began to do as he had said, talking, as she put the
+things together, in a half whisper which recalled Mr. Dale's staccato
+undertones. It seemed to be a house of whispers.
+
+"What did he say to you?"
+
+"He came to offer me a tip."
+
+"A tip?"
+
+"He said that if I took his tip I shouldn't stand upon the order of
+my going, but go at once, and go as far as possible between now and
+to-morrow."
+
+She put both hands to her left side, as if unconscious that she had a
+plate in one and a teaspoon in the other.
+
+"Rodney! Then--then--what are you going to do?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"But if he tells?"
+
+"Tells what?"
+
+"He said to me last night that if anyone knows that--that someone has
+killed a person, and doesn't at once inform the police, that's being
+an accessory after the fact."
+
+"Well? He was merely acquainting you with what I take is a legal
+truism."
+
+"Then he said that, whatever I might choose to do, he did not mean to
+be an accessory, either before the fact or after. Then he looked at me
+in such a way--I knew what he meant--and he went right off to bed
+without saying another word."
+
+"What had you been talking about?"
+
+"About--your uncle."
+
+"Had he introduced the subject or had you?"
+
+"He had; he would keep talking about it. Rodney, he knows, and--he's
+going to tell."
+
+"Then, in that case, it looks as if you will gain little by becoming
+my wife, and that I shall gain nothing."
+
+"Rodney, I want you to get out of your head what I said the other
+night. I don't want to force you to marry me, and I never did."
+
+"Then you've rather an unfortunate way of expressing yourself, don't
+you think so, my dear Mabel?"
+
+"I--I didn't know how else to do what I wanted to do. It's quite true
+that if I'm not going to be your wife I'll kill myself; but that
+doesn't matter--I'd just as soon die as live. But I do want to save
+you, and the only way I can do it is for you to marry me."
+
+"That may keep you from playing the tell-tale, but how is it going to
+affect Mr. Dale?"
+
+"He won't tell if I'm your wife."
+
+"Won't he? Why? I should have thought, if your story's correct, that
+he'd have told all the more, that disappointment would have inflamed
+him to madness."
+
+Rodney, as he said this, struck a match to light his pipe, and
+laughed. Nothing could have seemed less like laughter than the girl's
+white face and haunted eyes.
+
+"He'd tell to keep me from being your wife, but if I were your wife
+he'd never tell. I know him; he'd suffer anything rather than do
+anything which would give me pain or bring me to shame; if I were your
+wife he'd never tell. You're a gentleman, Rodney, and I'm not a lady,
+and I don't suppose I ever shall be; I'm just a girl who has let you
+do what you like with her, and you're cleverer than I am--much, much
+cleverer; but, in this, do be advised by me--do, dear, do! There is
+something here, something which makes me sure that the only way out of
+it, for you, is for you to make me your wife. I know you don't want to
+do it, that you never meant to do it, and I can quite understand why;
+but you'd better have me for your wife than--than that; don't you see,
+dear, that you had? I shan't be able to tell, and George Dale won't,
+and no one else knows, and instead of trying to find out more he'll
+keep others from finding out anything; he'll be on your side instead
+of against you, for my sake. Rodney, I implore you--for your own sake,
+dear, your own sake!--to do as you promised, and marry me."
+
+She pleaded to be allowed to save his life as if she were pleading for
+her own life. He turned to shake the ash from his pipe into the
+fender, and so remained, for some moments, with his back to her; while
+her eyes looked as if they were crying out to him. When he turned to
+her again he was pressing the tobacco down into his pipe before
+restoring it to his lips, smiling as he looked at her.
+
+"My dear Mabel, I'm not certain that I follow your reasoning, but do
+make your mind easy; I've promised to marry you to-morrow, and I
+will--on the stroke of noon--to the tick, for my sake as well as for
+yours. And, though the fates don't seem over propitious at the moment,
+I dare say we shall be quite as happy as the average married folk--at
+least, I'll marry you."
+
+"You mean it?"
+
+"I do--unreservedly; please understand that once more, and once for
+all. You shall have something like a wedding day."
+
+"I wish--I wish it were to-day; I'm afraid--of what may happen--before
+to-morrow."
+
+"Of whatever you may be afraid, I'm afraid that it couldn't be to-day.
+It's my uncle's funeral to-day."
+
+"Rodney! You--you're not going!"
+
+"I am; as chief mourner."
+
+"Rodney, you--you can't do a thing like that! You--you mustn't!"
+
+As she spoke an elderly woman came into the room, of a somewhat portly
+presence--the lady's mother. Seemingly she was in a mood to be
+garrulous.
+
+"What mustn't he do? Excuse me, Mr. Elmore, for coming in like this,
+but really, Mabel, I don't know what you are thinking about. I'm sure
+Mr. Elmore wants to go to his business, and here's all the work at a
+standstill----"
+
+"All right, mother; Mr. Elmore doesn't want to hear you grumbling at
+me, I know."
+
+Without waiting for her mother to continue her observations, Miss
+Joyce bustled out of the room with the breakfast tray in her hands.
+Left alone with him, the landlady addressed her lodger.
+
+"What's the matter with the girl I can't think; I never saw anything
+like the change that's come over her the last few days; she looks more
+fit for a hospital than anything else--and her temper! She never says
+anything to me; I suppose you don't know what's wrong?"
+
+"Mrs. Joyce, I'm not your daughter's confidant; she certainly says
+nothing to me in the sense you mean. Why do you take it for granted
+that anything's wrong?"
+
+"Because I've got two eyes in my head, that's why. She's not the same
+girl she was; that something's wrong I'm certain sure; but she snaps
+my nose off directly I open my mouth. I know she thinks a lot of you.
+I wondered if she'd said anything to you."
+
+"Absolutely nothing."
+
+"Then I can't understand the girl, and that's flat!"
+
+With that somewhat cryptic utterance Mrs. Joyce went out of the room
+as impetuously as she had entered. Rodney stood looking at the door
+for a moment or two, as if in doubt whether she would return. He tore
+the sheet of paper on which were the two typewritten lines into tiny
+scraps and dropped them into the fireplace. Re-reading Miss
+Carmichael's epistle, he obeyed her injunctions, a little tardily,
+perhaps, and sent the fragments after the others, repeating to himself
+as he did so a line from an old song:
+
+
+                "Of all the girls that are so sweet!"
+
+
+Then he took an oblong piece of paper out of a letter-case and studied
+it.
+
+"'Steamship _Cedric_.--John Griffiths, passenger to New York, cabin
+forty-five, berth A.' I wonder if it will be occupied, or if the
+money's wasted. That's for to-morrow, or is it to be Buenos Ayres on
+Friday, or New York on Saturday?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Who knows if it is to be either?"
+
+He had left the house and was descending the steps when a telegraph
+boy approached, with a yellow envelope in his hand.
+
+"Who's it for?" he asked.
+
+"Rodney Elmore, sir."
+
+"I am Rodney Elmore. Wait and see if there's an answer."
+
+The telegram which the envelope contained was a lengthy one; it
+covered the whole of the pink slip of paper. He read it through once,
+then again. As he read it the second time he whistled, very softly, as
+if unconsciously, the opening bars of "Sally in Our Alley."
+
+"There is an answer. Give me a form."
+
+He spread the form the boy gave him out upon his letter-case, then he
+seemed to consider what to say; then read the telegram he had received
+a third time, as if in search of light and leading. Arriving at a
+sudden decision, he wrote on the form the name and address of the
+person to whom the message was to be sent, and then one word, "Right."
+He added nothing which would show who the sender was; evidently he
+took it for granted that it would be recognised that the message came
+from him. As he watched the lad mount his bicycle and pedal away, he
+said to himself, always with that characteristic air of his, as of one
+who appreciates a capital jest:
+
+"That settles it! Now the plot does begin to thicken."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXI
+
+                        THE DEAD MAN'S LETTER
+
+
+The final understanding had been that those who were to go to the
+bank, in order that arrangements might be made which would give them
+immediate access to the funds of the late Graham Patterson, were to
+meet at the office in St. Paul's Churchyard. On the way to the City
+Rodney paid two or three calls. When he entered the office the outer
+rooms were empty; there was a notice on the outer door to the effect
+that business was suspended on account of Mr. Patterson's funeral. Mr.
+Andrews came out of what had been the late proprietor's own sanctum to
+greet him.
+
+"Mr. Wilkes is here, Mr. Elmore, and particularly wishes to see you."
+
+Rodney said nothing, but his look suggested that he resented something
+which he noticed in the other's manner, as well as the fact that he
+had come out of that particular room. Passing on in silence to the
+private office, he found Mr. Wilkes seated, not in his uncle's own
+chair, as he had been on Monday, but in one close to it. He did not
+rise as the young man entered, but contented himself with nodding
+slightly. Rodney, scenting something antagonistic in the other's
+presence there as well as in his attitude, did not even nod. He
+marched straight to the chair behind the writing-table, which he chose
+now to regard as his own, and which was within a yard of that on which
+the other was seated, and, remaining standing himself, looked down on
+the lawyer.
+
+"To what am I indebted, Mr. Wilkes, for your presence to-day? Did you
+not notice the intimation on the door, informing all and sundry that
+these offices are closed? If it is a business matter on which you have
+called, I must ask you to postpone it, at any rate until to-morrow."
+
+Instead of showing any disposition to take himself off, as the other
+so plainly suggested, the dark-visaged lawyer, leaning back in his
+chair, looked up at the young man with something in his glance which
+was not exactly complimentary.
+
+"I have come, Mr. Elmore, a good deal against my own wish, in
+consequence of a communication which I have received from Mr.
+Patterson."
+
+"From--what do you mean, from Mr. Patterson?"
+
+"A letter came to my office yesterday evening, after I had left, which
+was placed in my hands this morning. Before proceeding to take other
+steps, I thought it might perhaps save unpleasantness, and be fairer
+to you, if, in the first instance, I acquainted you with its
+substance."
+
+"From whom is the letter?"
+
+"From your late uncle, Graham Patterson."
+
+"You say it reached you last night? I don't understand."
+
+"Nor I, as yet, quite; I can only form a hypothesis. It seems that the
+letter was written at Brighton some time on Sunday. Clearly, from the
+postmark, it was posted at Brighton on Sunday. It ought to have
+reached me, of course, on Monday, but the presumption is that, owing
+to some vagary of the Post Office, it went astray, so that it has been
+more than two days on the road, instead of only a few hours. Under the
+circumstances that seems rather a curious accident. Here is the
+letter. I warn you that you will not find it a pleasant one."
+
+"Is it absolutely necessary, then, that I should know its contents? My
+relations with Mr. Patterson were not of a kind to lead me to expect
+any pleasantness from him, either on paper or off it."
+
+"The position is this. It is my duty to place this letter
+before--someone else, when very serious consequences may ensue; but,
+by taking a certain course, you may relieve me of the duty."
+
+"In that case, let me know what is in the letter."
+
+"I had better read it to you, so that you may understand that the
+language is the writer's, not mine."
+
+Mr. Wilkes withdrew a letter from an envelope which he took from his
+pocket; the envelope he held out to Rodney.
+
+"You see? The address is in your uncle's hand; it was post-marked at
+Brighton on Sunday evening, so there can be no doubt about the date on
+which it was dispatched."
+
+The lawyer proceeded to read the letter out loud, with a dryness which
+seemed to give it peculiar point.
+
+
+"'DEAR STEPHEN' [my Christian name, I may remind you, is Stephen],--'I
+want you to draw up a codicil to my will, and to have it ready for my
+signature to-morrow--Monday afternoon.
+
+"'It is to be to the effect that if my daughter marries my nephew,
+Rodney Elmore, then all that portion of my will which refers to her is
+to be null and void--she is not to have a penny. All that would have
+been hers is to be divided equally among the following charities.'
+[Then follows a list of them; there are eight. Then the letter goes
+on]: 'I hope that's clear enough. Between ourselves, Master Elmore is
+an all-round scoundrel; I swear to you that I'm convinced that no
+rascality would be too steep for him. He is a liar of the very first
+water, a thief, and a forger; so much I can prove. I would sooner have
+my girl dead than his wife; the damned young blackguard is after her
+for all he knows. But I am going to clear him out in charge of a
+constable when I get back to the office; I doubt if he has got tight
+enough hold of my girl to induce her to marry a convict--it will be a
+clear case of penal servitude for him.
+
+"'I know you will think I am writing strongly, but that is because I
+feel strongly. When I tell you the whole story you will admit that I
+am justified.
+
+"'Mind you have that codicil ready, on the lines I have given; I will
+call in on my way back from the office and sign. I know you do not
+touch criminal business as a rule, but you will have to make an
+exception in my case. I want you to instruct counsel in the matter of
+Master Elmore, for reasons which I will make clear to you when we
+meet. Sincerely yours,
+
+                                 "'GRAHAM PATTERSON.'"
+
+
+When the lawyer had done reading he lowered the letter and glanced up
+at the young man, who still stood towering above him. If he expected
+to find on his face any signs of confusion, still less of guilt or
+shame, his expectation was not realised. There was a look rather on
+Rodney's countenance of scorn, of confidence in himself, of contempt
+for whoever might speak ill of him, which became him very well. His
+remarks, when they came, possibly scarcely breathed the spirit the
+solicitor had looked for.
+
+"Have you read that letter to Mr. Andrews?"
+
+"I have not."
+
+"Have you made him acquainted with its contents?"
+
+"I have dropped no hint to him of its existence."
+
+"I have no pretensions to knowledge of the law of libel, but it is
+pretty clear that no action can be brought against the man who wrote
+that letter. With you the case is different. It was written, I
+presume, in confidence to you. If you bring it to the notice of
+anybody else you make yourself responsible for the statements it
+contains--you publish them. If you call my honour in question by
+publishing such a farrago of lies about me I will first of all thrash
+you, as they have it, to within an inch of your life, and then, if
+needs be, I will spend my last penny in calling you to account in a
+court of law. You shall not shelter yourself behind a dead man."
+
+"You use strong language, Mr. Elmore."
+
+"Could I use stronger language than that letter?"
+
+"I understand that you deny the statements it contains?"
+
+"Do I understand that you associate yourself with your correspondent
+so far as to require a denial?"
+
+"You misapprehend the situation; whether wilfully or not I don't know.
+I have no personal concern in this matter at all; eliminate that idea
+from your mind. Graham Patterson was my client living; in a sense he
+is still my client dead. I have no option but to continue to do my
+duty to him without fear or favour."
+
+"I presume in return for a certain fee, Mr. Wilkes?"
+
+"You forget yourself, sir."
+
+"In this room, Mr. Wilkes, eliminate from your mind all legal
+fictions. Don't, for your own sake, drive the fact that you are acting
+as my uncle's bravo too far home. In the face of that letter I begin
+to understand why he committed suicide. He was either drunk or mad
+when he wrote it. When sobriety or sanity returned, realising the
+situation in which he had placed himself, rather than face the
+consequences of what he had done, he took his own life. Don't you show
+yourself to be in possession of the dastard's courage which he
+lacked."
+
+"You take up an extraordinary position, Mr. Elmore."
+
+"What is the position you take up?"
+
+"Here is a letter from a man to his lawyer, in which he gives him
+instructions to make certain alterations in his will, stating reasons
+why he wishes those alterations to be made. It is signed, dated; its
+authenticity can be readily established. I am not sure that it has not
+a certain testamentary value."
+
+"Are you suggesting that that letter in any way affects my uncle's
+will?"
+
+"I am not prepared to give a definite opinion; but this I will say,
+that if its existence were to come to the knowledge of the societies
+herein mentioned, they would be justified in taking counsel's opinion,
+and quite possibly he would advise their taking further action."
+
+"You are, of course, at liberty to take any steps with regard to that
+tissue of libels you please, especially as I have made it, I think,
+perfectly clear to you that you will do so at your own proper peril."
+
+"Evidently your uncle was averse to your marrying his daughter. Am I
+to take it that you admit so much?"
+
+"Oh, I admit so much; he always was averse to that."
+
+"Then, in that case, you will at once resolve the difficulty by
+withdrawing all pretensions to Miss Patterson's hand."
+
+"Damn your impudence, sir."
+
+"Is that your answer?"
+
+"It is; with this addition--that I hope, and intend, to marry Miss
+Patterson at the earliest possible moment."
+
+"Then, in that case, you leave me no option but to place this letter
+before Miss Patterson."
+
+"Is that meant for a threat?"
+
+Andrews appeared in the doorway to announce that Mr. Parmiter was in
+the outer office.
+
+"Show Mr. Parmiter in at once for a few minutes, Andrews, if you
+please."
+
+As the young solicitor came in Rodney advanced to greet him.
+
+"Hallo, Parmiter! you come in the very nick of time--you see Mr.
+Wilkes has favoured me with his company again. Mr. Wilkes, read to Mr.
+Parmiter the letter you just now read to me."
+
+"I shall certainly do nothing of the kind. With all possible respect
+to Mr. Parmiter, this is a matter in which he has no _locus standi_,
+and in which I cannot recognise him at all."
+
+"Why not? He is my solicitor; he advises me. When you have made known
+to him the contents of that letter, don't you think it possible that
+he may give me the advice which, apparently, you would like him to
+give?"
+
+While he was still speaking the door opened to admit Miss Patterson.
+He moved to her with both hands held out.
+
+"Now, here is someone whom, I presume, you will recognise--the very
+person. Gladys, here is Mr. Wilkes. He has something which he very
+much wishes to say to you."
+
+Returning the letter to its envelope, Mr. Wilkes rose from his chair.
+
+"My hands are not going to be forced by you, Mr. Elmore, don't you
+suppose it. In making any communication to Miss Patterson which I may
+have to make, I shall prefer to choose my own time and place."
+
+"That's it, is it? I quite appreciate the reasons which actuate you,
+Mr. Wilkes, in wishing to make what you call your communication to
+Miss Patterson behind my back; and I think that Miss Patterson will
+appreciate them equally well. Mr. Wilkes has in his hand what he
+claims to be a letter from your father. If you take my advice you will
+insist on his showing it to you at once."
+
+Miss Patterson was quick to act on the hint which her lover gave her.
+She moved close up to the lawyer.
+
+"Mr. Wilkes, be so good as to let me see the letter to which my cousin
+refers."
+
+"With pleasure, Miss Patterson, at--if you will allow me to say
+so--some more convenient season; the sooner the better. For instance,
+may I have a few minutes' private conversation with you this
+afternoon? The matter on which I wish to speak to you is for your ear
+only."
+
+"You have spoken of it to my cousin?"
+
+"Oh, yes; he has spoken of it to me."
+
+"Then, why can you not speak of it to me in his presence?"
+
+"I will write to you on the subject, Miss Patterson, and will
+endeavour to make my reasons clear."
+
+He made as if to move towards the door. She placed herself in front of
+him.
+
+"One moment, Mr. Wilkes. Any letter from you will be handed to Mr.
+Elmore, unopened. I will have no private communication with you, nor,
+if I can help it, will I have any communication with you of any sort
+or kind."
+
+"I regret to hear you say so, Miss Patterson, and can only deplore the
+attitude of mind which prompts you to arrive at what I cannot but feel
+is a most unfortunate decision."
+
+"You are impertinent, Mr. Wilkes."
+
+The lawyer, with his dark eyes fixed on the lady's face, raised the
+hand in which was the envelope which contained the letter with the
+intention of slipping it into an inner pocket of his coat. Her quick
+glance recognised the handwriting of the address.
+
+"It's from dad!" she cried. "It's a letter from dad!"
+
+She had snatched the letter from between the lawyer's fingers before
+he had the faintest inkling of what she was about to do.
+
+"Miss Patterson," he exclaimed, "give me back that letter."
+
+She retreated, as he showed a disposition to advance. Mr. Elmore
+interposed himself between the lawyer and the lady.
+
+"Steady, Mr. Wilkes, steady. You told me that it would be your duty to
+place that letter in Miss Patterson's hands. It is in her hands. What
+objection have you to offer?"
+
+Whatever protest the lawyer might have been inclined to make he
+apparently came to the conclusion that, at the moment, it would be
+futile to make any. He withdrew himself from Elmore's immediate
+neighbourhood, and observed the lady, as she read the letter. She read
+it without comment to the end. Then she asked:
+
+"When did you get this letter?"
+
+"It reached my office last night, and me this morning; but, as you
+see, it was written on Sunday, and would appear to have been delayed
+in the post."
+
+She turned to Rodney.
+
+"Have you read this letter?"
+
+"It has been read aloud to me, which comes to the same thing."
+
+"You know--what he says at the end?"
+
+"I do; Mr. Wilkes took special care of that."
+
+"Is it true?"
+
+"It is absolutely false. There is not one word of truth in it. It
+comes to me as a complete surprise. Never by so much as a word did
+your father lead me to suppose that he had such thoughts of me. I
+cannot conceive what can have been the condition of his mind when he
+wrote in such a strain. But that letter enables me to begin to
+understand that something must have happened to him mentally, and that
+when he committed suicide he actually was insane."
+
+Miss Patterson tore the letter in half from top to bottom. The lawyer
+broke into exclamation.
+
+"Miss Patterson! What are you doing? You must not do that! Not only is
+it not your letter, but it is a document of the gravest legal
+importance."
+
+Paying him no heed whatever, the girl continued in silence the
+destruction of the letter, going about the business in the most
+thorough-going manner, reducing it to the tiniest atoms. When she had
+finished with the letter itself, she proceeded to dispose of the
+envelope, Mr. Wilkes expostulating hotly all the time, but kept from
+active interference by the insistent fashion with which Mr. Elmore
+prevented him from getting near the lady. Compelled at last to own
+that it was useless to attempt to stay her, he called upon his
+colleague to take notice of the outrage to which the letter was
+subjected, to say nothing of himself.
+
+"Mr. Parmiter, you are witness of what is being done. This young lady,
+with the connivance and, indeed, assistance of this young man, is
+destroying a document of the first importance, which is not only in no
+sense her own property, but which was obtained from me by what is
+tantamount to an act of robbery, accompanied, in a legal sense, by
+violence. Of these facts you will be called upon, in due course, to
+give evidence."
+
+Mr. Parmiter was still, but the lady spoke.
+
+"Are you not forgetting that Mr. Parmiter is my solicitor, and that a
+solicitor cannot give evidence against his own client? I am sorry to
+have to seem to teach you law, Mr. Wilkes. Rodney, have you a match?
+If so, will you please burn these?"
+
+She held out the fragments of the letter. Mr. Wilkes made a final
+attempt at salvage.
+
+"Miss Patterson, I implore you to give me those scraps of paper. It
+may still not be too late to piece them together, and so save you from
+consequences of whose gravity you have no notion."
+
+Once more the young gentleman interposed.
+
+"Steady, Mr. Wilkes, steady!"
+
+"Remove your hand from my shoulder, sir! You are only making your
+position every moment more and more serious!"
+
+Again the lady spoke.
+
+"To use a phrase of which you seem to be rather fond, Mr. Wilkes, in a
+legal sense, I believe this is my room. I must ask you to leave it at
+once."
+
+"Not before you have given me those scraps of paper, Miss Patterson!"
+
+"If you won't go, I shall reluctantly have to ask Mr. Elmore to put
+you out, and, in doing so, to use no more violence than is necessary."
+
+"I entreat you, Miss Patterson, to accept sound advice, and to do
+something which may permit of my repairing the mischief you have
+caused. Give me those scraps of paper."
+
+"Rodney, will you please put Mr. Wilkes out? But please don't hurt
+him!"
+
+The young man put the lawyer out, doing him no actual bodily hurt. He
+conducted him through the outer office to the landing, then addressed
+the astonished Andrews.
+
+"Andrews, this is Mr. Stephen Wilkes; I believe you know him. Give
+instructions that, under no pretext, is he to be admitted to these
+offices again. I shall look to you to see that those instructions are
+carried out. Good-day, sir."
+
+Shutting the door in the lawyer's face, he audibly turned the key on
+the inner side.
+
+"Now, Andrews, would you mind coming into the other room?"
+
+Miss Patterson greeted her cousin with the request she had already
+made. She still had the fragments of the letter between her fingers.
+
+"How about that match, Rodney? Please burn these."
+
+He made a little bonfire of them on the hearth, while she went on:
+
+"I don't suppose you will be very eager now to attend my father's
+funeral in the capacity of mourner."
+
+"I am not. I would much rather not go at all, if you will pardon the
+abstention."
+
+"I would much rather you did not go either--so, Andrews, that is
+settled. Also, be so good as to understand that I should prefer that
+the funeral should not start from Russell Square."
+
+Mr. Patterson's body had been removed from the station to the
+undertaker's, where it at present reposed in a handsome example of the
+undertaker's art. The idea had been to bring it in a hearse to Russell
+Square, whence the funeral cortège was to start. It was this
+arrangement which Miss Patterson wished to have altered. The managing
+man silently acquiesced; there was still time to give instructions
+that all that was left of his late employer was to be taken straight
+from the undertaker's to the cemetery.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXII
+
+                    PHILIP WALTER AUGUSTUS PARKER
+
+
+The four of them went together to the bank, which was within a
+minute's walk. There, the necessary forms being quickly gone through,
+a sum of two thousand pounds was credited to Miss Patterson, power
+being given to Rodney Elmore to draw on her account for such sums as
+were needed for the proper conduct of the business, it being tacitly
+understood that he would draw only such sums as were needed for the
+business. That matter being settled, they separated; Mr. Andrews and
+Mr. Parmiter going their own ways, Miss Patterson and Mr. Elmore
+departing together in a cab to lunch. The cab had not gone very far
+before the young gentleman made a discovery.
+
+"I've left my letter-case on the table in the bank?"
+
+"Your letter-case? Did you? What a nuisance; I never noticed it. Are
+you sure it was on the table?"
+
+"Quite; I remember distinctly; it was under a blotting-pad. What an
+idiot I am! I'm frightfully sorry, but I'm afraid I shall have to go
+back and get it."
+
+"Of course, we will go back."
+
+The cab returned to the bank. The lady remained inside; the gentleman
+passed through the great swing doors--through first one pair, then a
+second--it was impossible to see from the street what was taking place
+beyond. Once in the bank, the young gentleman said nothing about his
+letter-case--it had apparently passed from his memory altogether; but
+he presented at the counter a cheque for a thousand pounds, with his
+own signature attached. He took it in tens and fives, and a hundred
+pounds in gold. If the paying clerk thought it was rather an odd way
+of taking so large a sum, he made no comment. He came back through the
+swing doors with a letter-case held in his hand.
+
+"I've got it," he explained.
+
+He emphatically had, though she understood one thing and he meant
+another. When they had gone some little distance in the direction of
+lunch she observed:
+
+"I wish I were not in mourning. I've half a mind to go back and
+change."
+
+He observed her critically--he was holding one of her hands under
+cover of the apron.
+
+"My dear Gladys, I can't admit that you do look your best in
+mourning."
+
+"Do you think that I don't know that?"
+
+"But you look charming, all the same."
+
+"No, I don't; I look a perfect fright."
+
+"I doubt if you could look a fright even if you tried; I'm certain you
+don't look one now. In fact, the more I look at you the harder I find
+it to keep from kissing you."
+
+"I dare say! You'd better not."
+
+"That's a truth of which I'm unpleasantly aware. Still, if you did
+look like anything distantly resembling a fright, I shouldn't have
+that feeling so strong upon me, should I?"
+
+"You're not to talk like that in a hansom!"
+
+"I'm merely explaining. I suggest that if you do feel like changing,
+you should lunch first, and change afterwards."
+
+"You're coming back with me to Russell Square?"
+
+"Rather!"
+
+"I won't wear mourning--people may say and think what they choose--I
+declare I won't. Did you ever see anything like that letter?"
+
+"It was by way of being a curiosity."
+
+"But, Rodney, he said you were--he said you were all sorts of things!
+What did he mean?"
+
+"Your father was one of those not uncommon men who always use much
+stronger language than the occasion requires--it was a habit of his.
+For instance, when, in spite of his very positive commands, I showed
+an inclination to continue your acquaintance, he as good as told me I
+was a murderer--he said that it was his positive conviction that for
+the sake of a five-pound note I'd murder you."
+
+"Did he really?"
+
+"He did. And I dare say that when you showed no desire to cut me dead,
+he said one or two nice things to you."
+
+"Oh, he did--several. He made out that I was everything that was bad."
+
+"There you are--that's the kind of man he was."
+
+"But didn't he say something about a policeman--and giving you in
+charge?"
+
+"I am sure that he would have given me in charge to twenty policemen
+if he could, and that nothing would have pleased him better than to
+have had me sent to penal servitude for life."
+
+"What I can't make out is--why did he dislike you so?"
+
+"My dear, I'm afraid the explanation is simple--too simple. I don't
+want to hurt your feelings, but I've a notion--a very strong one--that
+he didn't like you. He regarded you as a nuisance; you know how he
+kept you in the background as long as he could; you interfered with
+the sort of life he liked to live; you were in his way."
+
+"He certainly never at any period of his life or mine, showed himself
+over-anxious for my company."
+
+"When you did become installed in town, he had formed his own plans
+for your future. What precisely was the arrangement between them I
+don't pretend to know; but I dare say I shall find out before long--it
+won't need much to induce Wilkes to give himself away; but I am
+persuaded that it was his intention that you should become Mrs.
+Stephen Wilkes."
+
+"But what makes you think so? It seems to me so monstrous. Fancy me as
+Mrs. Stephen Wilkes!"
+
+"Thank you, I'd rather not. It's only a case of intuition, I admit,
+but I'm convinced I'm right, and one day I may be able to give you
+chapter and verse. He was not over-fond of me to begin with, but when
+you appeared on the scene, and he saw that his best laid plans bade
+fair to gang agley, he suddenly began to develop a feeling towards me
+which ended as it has done. It's not a pretty one, but there's my
+explanation. But, sweetheart, that page is ended; let's turn it over
+and never look back at it; and all the rest of the volume--let's try
+our best to make it happy reading."
+
+They ate a fair lunch, considering, and enjoyed it, and afterwards
+returned together in a taximeter cab to Russell Square, feeling more
+tenderly disposed to each other, and at peace with all the world. When
+Miss Patterson had ate and drunk well she was apt to discover a turn
+for languorous sentiment which appealed to Mr. Elmore very forcibly
+indeed. Since, therefore, it was probably their intention to spend an
+amorous afternoon, the shock was all the greater when, on their
+arrival at No. 90, they were greeted in the hall by a tall upstanding,
+broad-shouldered, soldierly-looking man in whom Gladys recognised the
+officer of police who had brought her the news of her father's tragic
+fate.
+
+"Inspector Harlow," she exclaimed. "What--what are you doing here?"
+
+It was perhaps only natural that, drawing away from the policeman
+towards her lover, she should slip her hands through his arm as if she
+looked to him for protection from some suddenly threatening danger.
+Rodney pressed his arm closer to his side, as if to assure her she
+would find shelter there; though, as she uttered the visitor's name,
+he glanced towards him with a look which, as it were, with difficulty
+became an odd little smile. The visitor's manner, when he spoke,
+suggested mystery.
+
+"Can I say half a dozen words with you, Miss Patterson, in private?"
+
+She led the way to the first room to which they came, which chanced to
+be the dining-room, she entering first, then Rodney, the inspector
+last. When he was in he shut the door and stood up against it.
+
+"I said, Miss Patterson, in private."
+
+The inspector had an eye on Rodney.
+
+"We are in private; you can say anything you wish to say before this
+gentleman. This is Mr. Elmore, to whom I am shortly to be married."
+
+"Mr. Elmore?"
+
+As the officer echoed the name the two men's glances met. In the
+inspector's eyes there was an expression of eager curiosity, as if he
+were taken by surprise; Rodney's quick perceptions told him that while
+his name, and probably more than his name, was known to the other, for
+some cause he was the last person he had expected to see; the man was
+studying him with an interest which he did not attempt to conceal. The
+young man, on his side, was regarding the inspector as if he found him
+amusing.
+
+"Well, inspector, when you have quite finished staring at Mr. Elmore,
+perhaps you will tell me what it is you have to say."
+
+The girl's candid allusion to the peculiarity which it seemed she had
+noticed in his manner had the effect of bringing the officer back to a
+consciousness of what he was doing.
+
+"Was I staring? I beg Mr. Elmore's pardon--and yours, Miss Patterson.
+I was only thinking that, under the circumstances, it is a fortunate
+accident that Mr. Elmore should be present."
+
+"You have omitted to state what are the circumstances to which you
+allude."
+
+"I will proceed to supply that omission at once, Miss Patterson. You
+will probably think that they are strange ones; and, indeed, they are;
+but you will, of course, understand that I am only here in pursuance
+of my duty. I have come in consequence of a letter which I received
+this morning. I will read it to you."
+
+He took an envelope from a fat pocket-book.
+
+"It bears no address, and is not dated; but the envelope shows that it
+was posted last night at Beckenham.
+
+
+"'To Inspector Harlow.
+
+"'Sir,--Mr. Graham Patterson did not commit suicide; he was murdered.
+
+"'If you can make it convenient to be at Mr. Graham Patterson's late
+residence, No. 90, Russell Square, to-morrow, Wednesday, afternoon at
+3.30, I will be there also, and will point out to you the murderer.
+
+                          "'Your obedient servant,
+
+                          "'Philip Walter Augustus Parker.'"
+
+
+Silence followed when the inspector ceased to read. The officer was
+engaged in folding the letter and returning it to its envelope; Gladys
+looked as if she were too startled to give ready utterance to her
+feelings in words. Rodney was possibly trying to associate someone of
+whom he had heard with the name of Parker--and failing. His memory did
+not often play him tricks; he was pretty sure that no one of that name
+was known to him. The inspector was the first to speak.
+
+"You will, of course, perceive, Miss Patterson, that the probabilities
+are that this letter is a hoax; the signature, Philip Walter Augustus
+Parker, in itself suggests a hoax. Then there is the absence of an
+address. And, of course, we have the verdict of the coroner's jury,
+and the evidence on which it was found. I am quite prepared to learn
+that I have come to Russell Square, and troubled you with my presence,
+for nothing. But at the same time, in my position, I did not feel
+justified in not coming, on the very off-chance of making the
+acquaintance of Philip Walter Augustus Parker. It is now on the stroke
+of half-past three; we will give him a few minutes' grace, after
+which--if, as I expect will be the case, there are still no signs of
+him--I'll take myself off, with apologies, Miss Patterson. But should
+he by any strange chance put in an appearance, I would ask you to have
+him at once shown in here."
+
+Hardly had the inspector done speaking than there was the sound of an
+electric bell and a rat-tat-tat at the front door. The trio in the
+dining-room could scarcely have seemed more startled had they been
+suddenly confronted by a ghost. The inspector's voice sank to a
+whisper.
+
+"If the name's Parker, would you mind asking the servant--in here?"
+
+A gesture supplied the words he had omitted in his sentence. He held
+the door open so that Gladys could speak to the maid who was coming
+along the hall. She did so, also in lowered tones.
+
+"If that's a person of the name of Parker show him at once in here."
+
+She withdrew; the inspector shut the door; there was a pause; no one
+spoke; each of the three stood and listened. They could hear the front
+door opened and steps coming along the hall. Then the dining-room door
+was opened by a maid, who announced:
+
+"Mr. Parker."
+
+There entered the little man who had followed the example set by
+Rodney of getting out of the train in Redhill Tunnel.
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER XXIII
+
+                        NECESSARY CREDENTIALS
+
+
+The moment he appeared Rodney knew that he had been expecting him;
+that somewhere at the back of his mind there had been a feeling that
+it was he who was coming. His impulse was to take him by the throat
+and crush the life out of him before he had a chance of saying a word;
+which was the impulse of a badly frightened man. But he seldom lost
+his presence of mind for long; and, on that occasion, he had it again
+almost as soon as it had gone; indeed, within the same second he was
+smiling at himself for having allowed himself to be disposed towards
+such crass folly.
+
+So far as Rodney was able to judge the little man was clad just as he
+had been on Sunday evening--in the same shabby tweed suit, the old
+unbrushed boots, with the same suggestion about him that he might
+easily have been improved by a more intimate acquaintance with soap
+and water. He had his hat in one hand, and with the other he rubbed
+his scrubby chin. No one could have seemed more at his ease. Without
+offering any sort of greeting he immediately proceeded to address the
+inspector, while the maid was still closing the door, in that thin,
+unmusical, penetrating voice which Rodney had so much disliked.
+
+"So you are there, Harlow, are you? I wondered if you'd have sense
+enough to come."
+
+He rounded off his sentence with the snigger which had so jarred on
+the young man's sensitive nerves, and which affected Gladys so
+unpleasantly that, with what seemed to be a start of repulsion, she
+moved closer to her lover's side. The stranger noted the movement, and
+commented on it--again with the uncomfortable snigger.
+
+"That's right; get as close as you can; he'll keep you safe; anyone
+will be safe who gets close enough to him. You're Miss Patterson; I
+could tell you anywhere by your likeness to your father. You're not
+the kind of girl I care about, any more than he was the kind of man.
+Who's the youngster? Now, there is someone worth looking at; why, he's
+as handsome as paint, and of quite unusual force of character for so
+young a man. Miss Patterson, the girl who gets him for a lover will
+have a lover of a kind of which she has no notion. He's a most
+remarkable young man."
+
+With a view, perhaps, of checking the stranger's volubility, the
+inspector administered what was possibly meant for a rebuke.
+
+"If you would confine yourself to the business which has brought you
+here, sir, it would be as well. Are you Mr. Parker?"
+
+"I am; Philip Walter Augustus Parker--a lot of name for a man of my
+size."
+
+"You sent me a letter last night from Beckenham?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"Stating that Mr. Graham Patterson did not commit suicide."
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"But was murdered?"
+
+"He was."
+
+"You went on to say that if I were here this afternoon you would point
+out to me the murderer."
+
+"I will."
+
+"Point him out."
+
+"I am."
+
+"I thought so."
+
+"I knew you did. I saw on your intelligent visage that you knew what
+was coming. You have some experience of cranks who accuse themselves
+of crimes of which they are innocent; you take it for granted that I
+am one of them, which shows what a dunce you are. I am a lunatic.
+That's right, Harlow, smile again. I knew that would tickle you. A
+policeman's sense of humour is his own."
+
+"It is necessary, Mr. Parker, that I should warn you that anything you
+say will be taken down and used against you."
+
+"Quite right, Harlow; take it down; but as for using it against me,
+that's absurd. The law does not punish lunatics; whatever they may do
+it holds them guiltless. I'm an example of the inadequacy of the law
+to protect the public from what I may describe as the lunatic at
+large. It is not sufficiently recognised that there is an order of
+dementia which may at any time develop into homicidal mania, and that,
+therefore, a lunatic, unless he is kept in safe keeping, may kill,
+with impunity, whom he pleases--as I have done. I have killed Graham
+Patterson; yet no one may venture to kill me. My life is more sacred
+than that of a sane man in the eyes of the law."
+
+The inspector looked at the girl significantly.
+
+"I think, Miss Patterson, that I had better deal with Mr. Parker
+alone."
+
+"And, Miss Patterson, I think not. What I am about to say will be
+found of interest not only by you, but also by--that extraordinary
+young man. Harlow, your duty is to take down what I am about to say in
+writing; don't exceed it. Shut the door. Miss Patterson will stay
+where she is."
+
+The inspector looked at the lady, as if for instructions. As she gave
+no sign, beyond drawing a little closer to her lover, he shut the
+door, which he had opened a few inches. Mr. Parker beamed at him with
+a grotesque little air of triumph.
+
+"There, Harlow--you see! Now attend to me. Suppose, before I go any
+further, we all sit down; my tale may take some minutes; I don't want
+anyone to get tired of standing. You won't? Very good--then stand.
+There are plenty of chairs, and very comfortable some of them seem;
+but, of course, I don't propose to force you to occupy them if you
+would rather not. Now--attention! To begin at the beginning."
+
+Again he indulged in the uncomfortable sort of laughter which, more
+than anything else, revealed the disorder of the creature's mind.
+
+"On Sunday evening I bolted from my keeper, one Metcalf, in whose
+charge I have been for six or seven months, and of whom I was tired to
+extinction--an unclubable fellow who never talks unless he has
+something to say. I left Brighton station on the 9.10 train. Until the
+train started I was the sole occupant of a first-class carriage, at
+which I was not displeased. I had some idea of committing suicide
+myself. Life, I assure you, has little to offer me. I am just sane
+enough to know that I never shall be saner. There's a wall--a wall
+which I shall never climb, and which shuts me out--from I don't know
+what. If I were left alone--I so seldom am; they won't leave me
+alone!--here would be an excellent opportunity to consider the best
+way out of it. You may fancy, then, what my feelings were when, just
+as the train was starting, another passenger entered--bundled in by an
+extremely officious porter. He would never have caught the train if it
+hadn't been for the porter--in which case he would have been still
+alive--so that one may say, logically, the porter killed him. The
+fellow certainly ought to be punished."
+
+He waved his hat with a gesture which was possibly intended to
+represent the execution of the porter in question.
+
+"The man who had entered my compartment, Miss Patterson, was your
+father--in every respect a most objectionable person, combining in
+himself nearly everything that I most object to--bloated, overfed,
+nearly drunk, horrible to contemplate. He sat there perspiring,
+puffing, panting, gasping for breath; I half expected he would have a
+fit. But, instead of having a fit, before the train had gone very far
+he was asleep, fast asleep. Could any conduct have been more
+disgusting?--drunken sleep! With a man of my stamp at the other end
+of the carriage, could anything have been more insulting? And he
+snored--such snores! I declare to you he made more noise than the
+train did; if that extraordinary young man had been in the next
+compartment he'd have heard him. And his jaw dropped open--it was
+that gave me the idea. Who is it says that trifles light as air lead
+to I don't know what? It was that trifle which led to my killing your
+father, Miss Patterson."
+
+Again the cackling giggle, which made the girl try to draw still
+nearer to her lover, as if the thing were possible.
+
+"Some time before I had come into possession of quite a quantity of
+potassium cyanide; I won't say how--I had. The artfulness of lunatics
+is proverbial, and I'm as artful as any of them; on that point I refer
+you to Metcalf, as well as to others who have had me in their charge,
+both in asylums and out of them--they'll tell you! It was in the form
+of tabloids, looking just like sweeties, in a nice little silver box;
+enough to kill a street. I had meant to use it to kill myself, but at
+the sight of that dreadful man, with his bulging mouth, I thought--why
+not use it to kill him? Pop one into his mouth, and the trick was
+done! I moved inch by inch and foot by foot along the seat towards his
+end of the carriage; he still snored on, paying no attention of any
+sort to me; he was a horrid, vulgar man. At last I was right in front
+of him; I might have been ten miles away for all he knew. How he
+snored, and how his jaws did gape! I had the silver box in one hand
+and a tabloid between the finger and thumb of the other, and I leaned
+forward and popped it into his open mouth."
+
+Mr. Parker illustrated his words by his gestures, with the air of one
+who was telling an amusing tale.
+
+"Oh, what a change came over him! You should have seen it! He snored
+the tabloid right down his throat, and he gave a great gasp and was
+dead. He had not even waked; I am sure that he never knew I was on the
+seat in front of him, or that I was in the carriage at all. There was
+his huge carcase bolt upright in front of me, and I knew that he would
+never snore any more. It made me feel quite odd; it was all so sudden
+and so funny. I daresay it would have made that extraordinary young
+man feel odd, eh?"
+
+He looked up at Rodney with a leer which made his mean, wrinkled face
+all at once seem bestial. But he never faltered in his story, which he
+told with a sniggering relish which lent it a quality of horror which
+no display of dramatic, conscience-stricken intensity could possibly
+have done.
+
+"My idea had been to tell the porters all about it the first time the
+train stopped; it would have been funny to see the fuss they'd have
+made; I shouldn't have cared. But it so happened that the signal was
+against us, and the train stopped in the middle of Redhill tunnel."
+
+The inspector allowed no hint to escape him of what he knew or did not
+know. He kept his eyes fastened on the little man, as if his wish were
+not so much to follow his actual words, but to see something which
+might be behind them.
+
+"When it stopped I had another idea, quite as brilliant as the first.
+Why should I go through the nuisance of a trial for murder? With a
+little management, if this objectionable person were found in a
+carriage by himself, it might be taken for granted that he had
+committed suicide, which would be too funny. So I put the silver box
+open in his fingers, slipped out of the carriage into the tunnel--in
+the darkness no one saw me--waited for the train to go, then walked
+after it, out of the tunnel, up the banks, across the fields to
+Redhill Station; had a drink or two, which I was in want of; went on
+by the 10.40, until at Croydon I was joined by Metcalf, who had got
+there first. For the rest of the tale refer to him."
+
+Continuing, Mr. Parker seemed to address his remarks particularly to
+Rodney:
+
+"You never would have thought that it could be so easy to kill a man,
+and have it brought in as suicide, would you? When I read the report
+of the inquest in the papers, I was amazed to find how easy it
+really was. Then it occurred to me that as, of course, he had been
+murdered--I knew that--why shouldn't I communicate with the police,
+after all? No harm would come to me; lunatics are protected by the
+law. It would be different if he had been murdered by--you; you would
+quite certainly be hung. I shall go to Broadmoor. I have rather a
+fancy for Broadmoor. I am told that they are all of them lunatics
+there; I should like to see. At any rate, they have all of them done
+something; no lunatic I've met ever did anything worth doing. They
+must be interesting people. But certain credentials are necessary for
+Broadmoor, and now I think I've earned them. If the part I've played
+in this little affair of Graham Patterson doesn't qualify me for
+Broadmoor, then I should very much like to know what would. Eh, young
+man, eh?"
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXIV
+
+                            LOVERS PARTING
+
+
+Inspector Harlow having gone, with Mr. Parker as close companion, the
+lovers being again alone together, it was pretty plain that they were
+conscious that, since entering the house, the situation had materially
+changed. Rodney, try how he might, could not erase from his mind, so
+quickly as he wished, the impression that he had been assisting at
+some hideous nightmare. He had supposed, at the sight of the little
+man, that his accuser had come into the room. His nerves were strained
+in the expectation that every moment the charge would be made. Even as
+the instants passed, and he began to see the drift of the tale which
+the man was telling, inventing it as he went on, he had a feeling that
+he was only playing with him as a cat does with a mouse, and that,
+just when it seemed least likely, he would right-about-face and,
+perhaps with that diabolical snigger of his, place the onus of the
+guilt on him. Now that the fellow had actually gone, a self-accused
+prisoner in the inspector's charge, the feeling that he was still
+taking part in some fantastic drama seemed stronger than ever.
+
+Gladys, on her side, when at last she broke the curious silence, which
+prevailed longer than either of them supposed after they had been left
+together, quickly showed that she was obsessed by a mood in which he
+did not know her, in which, as it were, she had slipped out of his
+reach.
+
+"Rodney, do you think that what that man said is true?"
+
+"He seemed to give chapter and verse for most of it."
+
+"But if it's true--dad didn't take his own life!"
+
+"If it's true."
+
+"But don't you see what a difference that makes?"
+
+"Of course it makes a difference; but in what sense do you mean?"
+
+"In every sense--every sense! Do you think--that while he's being
+buried--I should be here--if I had known that he was murdered? He was
+my father."
+
+"In any case he was that."
+
+"Not in any case, not in any case! I may have got him all wrong! I may
+have misjudged! I may--I don't know what I mayn't have done. There's
+the letter!"
+
+"What letter?"
+
+"To Mr. Wilkes. You said, when he wrote it, he was mad, and that
+taking his own life proved it. I thought so. But, if he didn't take
+his own life, what then?" Rodney made an effort to regain his
+self-possession, and partially succeeded.
+
+"My dear Gladys, the whole business is a bad one, whichever way you
+look at it. We are to be married on Monday."
+
+"Monday? Married--to you?"
+
+The knowledge of women on which he was apt to pride himself ought to
+have warned him that this was not the same girl as the one with whom
+he had come back from lunch in the cab. But at the moment he was not
+yet quite himself; his perception was at fault. He made a mistake.
+
+"My dear Gladys, you are perfectly well aware that the arrangement, as
+it stands at present, is that we are to be married on Monday. I was
+merely about to suggest that, as it would seem that this whole
+unfortunate affair is likely to prove too much, we should be married
+to-morrow instead, and then we shall be able to get out of this
+unpleasant atmosphere at the earliest possible moment."
+
+"Stop! stop!"
+
+She shouted at rather than spoke to him.
+
+"Perhaps I shall not be married to you at all."
+
+He stared at her in genuine amazement.
+
+"Gladys! What are you talking about? What do you mean?"
+
+"I don't know what I mean; I almost hope I never may know."
+
+"My dear child; that wretched man."
+
+"Have you ever seen him before?"
+
+"Seen whom?"
+
+"You know quite well. That--wretched man."
+
+"So far as I'm aware, never in my life. What makes you ask such a
+question?"
+
+"Are you sure? Do you swear it?"
+
+"How can a man swear to a thing like that? But I do swear that, to the
+best of my knowledge and belief, I have never seen him before."
+
+"Then how came it that he knew you so well?"
+
+"Knew me so well? Gladys! What are you dreaming about? Why, he never
+even addressed me by name."
+
+"No, I noticed that; but he addressed you all the same. Most of what
+he said was especially addressed to you, as if he knew that you would
+understand."
+
+"What are you driving at?"
+
+"What's more, he saw that I was afraid of you."
+
+"Afraid? You? Why, you could hardly have snuggled closer."
+
+"That was because I was afraid to let you know how afraid of you I
+was."
+
+"Gladys! Has that creature turned your brain?"
+
+"I--I don't know. Oh, if I could only say a few words to dad--if I
+only could!"
+
+"What would they be?"
+
+"I would--ask him--how--he died."
+
+"You have two stories offered for your choice. Are you content with
+neither?"
+
+"Rodney, if my father were standing here now, and his spirit may be,
+would you tell me, in his presence, that you don't know why he
+disliked you?"
+
+"Are you going into that all over again? To what end?"
+
+"What does that man know of you? What does he know?"
+
+"How can I tell what a half-witted man knows of me, or thinks he
+knows? Certainly he knows nothing to my discredit."
+
+"Rodney--don't."
+
+"Don't what?"
+
+"You know! You do know! I can see in your eyes you know! Please go!"
+
+"Sweetheart!"
+
+"Don't--speak to me--like that--now. Go!"
+
+"You surely are not in earnest. You cannot wish me to leave you before
+this extraordinary misunderstanding which has so inexplicably sprung
+up is cleared away. Tell me what is in your mind--frankly, all! I
+quite understand how this wretched man, Parker, may have turned your
+thoughts into unexpected currents and filled you with miserable
+doubts. I assure you he has upset me more than I care to tell you."
+
+"I know that he upset you! I felt you were upset when I was so close
+to you. I can see it now."
+
+If for the moment he was disconcerted--and the lady's manner was
+disconcerting--he slurred it over with creditable skill.
+
+"Come, Gladys; let's try to get back to where we were--to perfect
+understanding. Tell me your doubts, no matter how insoluble they may
+seem to you. I promise you I'll solve them."
+
+"I'm sure you will; I feel you could solve anything, but I am afraid
+of your solution."
+
+Before he had an inkling of her intention she had passed rapidly
+across the floor and from the room.
+
+"Gladys!" he exclaimed.
+
+But it was too late; she had gone. He stood staring at the door
+through which she had vanished, irresolute. Should he follow her,
+possibly to her bedroom, and entreat her for a hearing? For once in
+his life he had been taken wholly unawares; he had not suspected that
+this Gladys was in the Gladys he had known. Often a man lives to a
+ripe old age, ignorant how many women are contained in the one woman
+he knows best. Then, as if unwittingly, his fingers strayed to the
+pocket in which were the proceeds of the cheque he had cashed while
+Gladys, without in the cab, had supposed him to have gone into the
+bank for his letter-case. Apparently the touch decided him; often a
+little thing brought him to an instant decision. Without making any
+further effort to gain the lady's ear, he buttoned his coat across his
+chest, took his hat and stick from off the table, and quietly left the
+house.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXV
+
+                       STELLA'S BETROTHAL FEAST
+
+
+That evening Rodney Elmore was at a dinner given at a famous
+restaurant in honour of his engagement to Stella Austin, quite a
+different sort of meal from that at which he had assisted at the
+Misses Claughton's house in Kensington. If in his manner there was an
+unusual touch of nervousness, it was not unbecoming; the bride that
+was to be was not entirely herself. He met her as, with her father and
+mother, she entered the hall. She said to him, as he fell in by her
+side:
+
+"I did hope, Rodney, that you would have come to fetch me."
+
+"My dear, it's only by the skin of my teeth that I've got here myself!
+Do you think that I wouldn't have come if I could?"
+
+She said nothing in reply, but as she passed towards the ladies'
+cloak-room there was a look on her face which almost suggested tears.
+Her mother's manner, as she greeted him, was not too genial:
+
+"So you are here? Well, I suppose that's something!"
+
+Mr. Austin, as he deposited his hat and coat with the attendant,
+seemed very much in the same key.
+
+"We should have been here some minutes ago, only Stella would have it
+you were coming to fetch her; we should have been waiting for you
+still if she had had her way. How was it you didn't come? She's quite
+disappointed; rather a pity that the evening should have begun with a
+misunderstanding of that sort."
+
+Rodney drew the gentleman aside.
+
+"I take it, Mr. Austin, that you haven't heard the news?"
+
+"To what news do you refer?"
+
+"It is now stated that my uncle did not commit suicide, but was
+murdered."
+
+"But I thought the coroner's jury had returned a verdict of suicide."
+
+"That is so; but this afternoon a man named Parker gave himself up to
+the police, on his own confession, as having murdered my uncle. You
+will understand that I--I have had rather a trying day."
+
+"On his confession? Is the man a lunatic?"
+
+"That's just it; he is, yet it seems only too likely that--he did what
+he says he did."
+
+"But how came he to make his confession in your presence? Do you know
+the man?"
+
+"Not I; he's an entire stranger to me; but I'll tell you all about it
+later. I don't want you to say anything to the ladies or anyone; I
+only mention it to you because I want you to understand how it is that
+I am not in such--such good fettle as I might be for an occasion of
+this kind; and also because I want you, if needs be, to help me with
+Stella."
+
+"My dear boy, of course I will. It is only natural that, at a time
+like this, a girl should think that there's nothing of much
+consequence except her own affairs; but I'll stand by you, never fear.
+I rather wish that the whole thing had been postponed, but Stella
+wouldn't hear of it. There's Tom not at all himself; he wanted Mary
+Carmichael to come, and Stella wanted her to come, in fact, we all
+wanted her to come, but she hasn't. I've been told nothing, but I can
+see there's some trouble there. Altogether the evening doesn't look as
+if it were going to be quite such a merry one as I had hoped it would
+have been; however, we must make the best of it. Cheer up, lad; put
+your troubles behind you for this night only."
+
+That was a prescription which at any rate the prescriber's son did not
+seem at all disposed to follow, as Rodney quickly learnt when Tom
+appeared a little tardily. Tom's naturally good-humoured face wore an
+expression of unwonted gloom, and there was that in his air and
+general bearing which accorded ill with a time of feasting and making
+merry.
+
+"You know, old chap, I oughtn't to be here, I really didn't. I shall
+queer the whole show. Unless I drink too much, and put my spirits up
+that way, I shall give everyone the hump; and when I start on that lay
+I'm apt to get my spirits up a bit too much, so I don't know that that
+will have a good effect either."
+
+Rodney laughed as he put his hand on the speaker's shoulder.
+
+"Why, Tom, what's wrong?"
+
+"I don't know what's wrong, but something's wrong. I do know that.
+When the governor told me about this kick-up to-night, I wrote to Mary
+and told her all about it, and asked her to come up, and so on, and
+said I'd run down to Brighton this morning to bring her up, and told
+her the train I'd come by, and asked her to meet me at the station.
+She didn't meet me at the station--that was shock number one; and then
+when I got to the house, if you please, the servant didn't want to let
+me in--she wanted to make me believe that Mary was out. I wasn't
+taking that; I would go in, and I saw her old aunt--she's an old dear,
+she is. After a while, and she'd told no end of them, she owned up
+that Mary was in all the time she'd been telling them. She was up in
+her bedroom, and had given word that if I called she wouldn't see me.
+You might have bowled me over with an old cork."
+
+"The lady wasn't well."
+
+"Her health was all right; the old girl owned as much. She said Mary
+was perfectly well, but beyond that she wouldn't say anything; and she
+made out that she couldn't; and she wouldn't send a message up, or a
+note, or anything. She said that she knew her niece well enough to be
+sure that that would be no use. But when she saw that I was set, she
+said that if I chose I might go up and try my luck. So, if you please,
+up I went, and rapped at her bedroom door."
+
+"Summoned her to surrender, quite in the good old style; and she did?"
+
+"Not much she didn't. I spoke to her through the bedroom door, I
+called out to her, I as nearly as possible howled; I daresay I rapped
+as many as twenty times--I know I made my knuckles sore But she took
+not the slightest notice, not a sound came from the other side; she
+might have been stone deaf or dead. In fact, I wanted to tell her that
+I felt sure that something dreadful had happened, and that if she
+wouldn't speak I should have to break down the door to see what was
+wrong. But the old girl wouldn't have it. She said that she had had
+enough of that folly, and when I talked about camping out on the
+door-mat she marched me off downstairs, feeling all mops and brooms,
+and all over the place. Then it came out that when I was at the front
+door she had told the old girl that she wouldn't see me, and nothing
+would make her see me, and had rushed up to her bedroom and locked
+herself in. So I came back from Brighton all alone, and the wonder is
+I didn't start to drink and keep on at it; only I had a sort of
+feeling that if I began by being squiffy when I got here things
+wouldn't be so very much brighter; besides, there's always time to
+start that sort of thing if you are set on it."
+
+"My dear old chap, you've done something to upset the lady's
+apple-cart; you'll have a letter telling you all about it in the
+morning."
+
+"I hope so, but I doubt it; I might have known I was feeling too much
+bucked up. You know she never said exactly yes; she sort of let me
+take it for granted, and perhaps I took it a little too much for
+granted; I feel that perhaps that's how it is. But if she's off with
+me, I'm done--clean. She could make a man of me, even the kind of
+article the governor thinks a man; but no one else could. If she won't
+have me, I shall emigrate, that's what I shall do; I shall go to one
+of those cheery spots where you get knocked out by blackwater fever,
+or sleeping sickness, or something nice of that sort, three months
+after you've landed."
+
+Notice being given that dinner was ready, Rodney led Stella into the
+private room in which it was to be served cheerfully enough, bestowing
+on her admiring glances and whispering what he meant to be sweet
+things into her pretty ear as they went.
+
+"My hat! that's a duck of a frock you're arrayed in; you do look
+scrumptious."
+
+"I'm glad you think so."
+
+The maid's manner was a trifle prim; she plainly wished him to
+understand that she was still a little out with him. He smiled at her.
+
+"I don't know what you're laughing at."
+
+"Would you rather I cried?"
+
+"I'm afraid poor Tom feels like crying. Isn't it strange Mary not
+coming, and sending no message, or anything--nothing to explain? Have
+you heard how she treated Tom?"
+
+They had reached the dinner-table, and were settling themselves in
+their places.
+
+"Stella, be so good as to understand, once for all, that there's only
+one subject to-night, and that's you. All other subjects are tabooed.
+Are you quite comfortable? Don't put your chair too far off; so that,
+if you feel like it, you can put your baby foot out towards mine and
+with your wee slipper crush my favourite corn."
+
+"Rodney, I'm glad you are going to talk to me at last, though I don't
+suppose you have thought of me once all day."
+
+"Shall I tell you what I've been looking for ever since I came?"
+
+"I expect for somewhere to smoke."
+
+"I've been looking for--say, a curtained nook, where I can have you
+alone for about five minutes, and have a few of those kisses of which
+I have been dreaming this livelong day."
+
+"If you had come and fetched me you might have had one kiss--in the
+cab."
+
+"I'll have one kiss when I take you back--one!"
+
+"Oh, you are going to take me back?"
+
+"I am; and I'm going to eat you on the way; then you'll understand
+what you escaped by my not fetching you."
+
+"You're not to talk like that; people will hear you."
+
+"Let 'em. Fancy if you'd arrived here with that lovely frock all
+crumpled--two in a cab! People would have wondered what you had been
+doing."
+
+"Rodney, if you will talk like that I shall crush your favourite
+corn."
+
+"Crush it!"
+
+"Please pass me the salt."
+
+Whether, while he passed her the salt, she did crush it, there was
+nothing to show.
+
+The feast passed off better than, at one time, it had promised to do.
+There were about twenty people present. Mr. Austin had whipped up, at
+a moment's notice, various relations, and also certain persons who
+were intimately connected with the firm of which he was head; he
+desired to introduce to them not only his future son-in-law, but also
+the probable partner in his business. Most of these people were very
+willing to be entertained, simple souls, easily pleased, and the
+dinner was a good one. Even Tom, who found himself next to a girl with
+mischievous eyes and a saucy tongue, was inclined to shed some of his
+melancholy before the menu was half-way through.
+
+"I never did meet a girl who says such things as you do," he told her,
+with a frankness which was perhaps meant for laudation. "You are quite
+too altogether."
+
+"You see," she said, with her eyes fixed demurely on her plate, "it
+doesn't matter what one does say to some people, does it?"
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+"Of course some people don't count, do they?"
+
+"By that I suppose you mean that I'm a----"
+
+She did not wait for him to finish.
+
+"Oh, not at all."
+
+She looked at him with innocence in her glance, which was too perfect
+to be real.
+
+"How many times have you been ploughed?"
+
+"Who's been telling you tales about me?"
+
+"I was only thinking that it doesn't matter if one hasn't brains so
+long as one has looks, and you have got those, haven't you?"
+
+Tom's face, as the minx said this, in a voice which was just loud
+enough to reach his ears, would have made a good photographic study.
+Beyond a doubt he was in a fair way to lose some of his sadness, at
+least for the time.
+
+When the cloth had been removed the giver of the feast, getting on to
+his feet, made the usual half jovial, half sentimental references to
+the occasion which had brought them together; and, in wishing the
+young couple well, made special allusion to the fact that he was not
+only welcoming a son, but also a colleague. The toast he ended by
+proposing could not have been better received. Then, while the young
+maiden sat blushing, the young man stood up, and, in a brief yet deft
+little speech, told how happy they all had made him, how the hopes
+which he had cherished for years had at last been realised, how dear
+those hopes had been to him, how unworthy he was of all the good gifts
+which had descended on him. But of this they might be sure, that if he
+had health and strength--and at present he was very well and pretty
+strong, thanking them very much--he would do his very best in the
+years to come to prove that he could at least appreciate those things
+which Providence had bestowed on him. The young man sat down on quite
+a pathetic note, and the girl by his side pressed his hand and looked
+as if this were indeed one of those moments of which she had dreamed.
+
+Then there were other speeches and all sorts of kind things were said,
+which, at such times, one takes it for granted should be said. The
+young man was made much of, and the maiden, if possible, even more.
+And when the feast was really ended, and all the good wishes had been
+wished again and again, and there came the time of parting, even Mr.
+Austin was obliged to confess to himself that everything could
+scarcely have gone off better. His wife was radiant, some of the
+shadows had gone from Tom's face; apparently the young lady with the
+mischievous eyes had in some subtle way, the secret of which she only
+possessed, acted the part of the sun in dispelling the clouds; Stella
+could not by any possibility have looked happier or Rodney prouder.
+Tom, it is believed, saw the young lady with the mischievous eyes home
+in one cab, and it is certain that Rodney was with Stella in another.
+What took place during that journey in the cab between the restaurant
+and Kensington it is not perhaps easy to determine precisely, but
+beyond a doubt Rodney had that one kiss which had been spoken of, and
+probably others; for when the house in Kensington was reached, and the
+young lady ran up the steps to the front door, she was in a state of
+the most delightful agitation. And in the house there was the final
+parting, which occupied a considerable time, for they had to say to
+each other the things which they had already said more than once, and
+which Rodney at least could say so well and to which the girl so loved
+to listen.
+
+"I think that, after all, to-night has made up for to-day. Do you
+know, Rodney," and she looked up into his face with something shining
+in her pretty eyes, "that to-day I have had the most curious fancies?
+I was actually frightened; I don't know at what, but I do know that
+somehow it was because of you. Wasn't it silly?"
+
+"I am not sure that it's ever silly for you to be frightened because
+of me; I'm in the most delicious terror all day, and sometimes all
+night, because of you; but you are a goose."
+
+Then he held her perhaps a little closer, and whispered:
+
+"It has been something of a night, hasn't it? For the first time in my
+life I feel as if I were a person of some importance. You couldn't
+have your betrothal feast again to-morrow, could you?"
+
+She smiled.
+
+"I doubt it; but we might have a silver betrothal feast as well as a
+silver wedding. Hasn't that sort of thing ever been done?"
+
+He laughed at the conceit, and when the parting really did come she
+was looking forward as through a dim mist, towards that silver time at
+which he had hinted; and when she went upstairs she prayed that after
+five-and-twenty years of married life she might be as happy as she was
+then. And all night she slept sweetly, dreaming the happiest dreams of
+all that took place during the passage of the years, through which she
+walked with the husband whom she loved so dearly, ever heart in heart
+and hand in hand. That night was to her a halcyon time.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXVI
+
+                              GOOD NIGHT
+
+
+When Rodney Elmore went home, as his cab drew up in front of his
+lodgings a man came quickly across the road and stood so that he was
+between him and the entrance to the house.
+
+"Mr. Rodney Elmore?"
+
+Rodney looked him up and down. It was not a very good light just
+there, but it was clear enough for him to recognise the man who had
+greeted him. For the first time in his life a feeling that was
+something very like dizziness went all over him, so that he all but
+reeled; but that self-control which so seldom quitted him except for
+the briefest instant was back before it had actually gone. He did not
+reel, but stood quite still, and, with a smile upon his face, looked
+the man fairly and squarely in the eyes.
+
+"That is my name--I am Rodney Elmore; but you, sir--pray, who are
+you?"
+
+"My name is Edward Giles. But I don't think that that can mean much to
+you, Mr. Elmore."
+
+"I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Giles, but, as you say, your name
+does convey absolutely nothing to me. What is it that I can have the
+pleasure of doing for you at this latish hour?"
+
+The man was silent for a moment. Then a curious smile flitted across
+his face as he came a half-step nearer.
+
+"Think, Mr. Elmore. I shouldn't be surprised if you had rather a good
+memory. Don't you remember me?"
+
+"Not the least in the world, Mr. Giles."
+
+"It isn't so very long ago since you saw me."
+
+"Indeed! I presume it was on rather a special occasion, Mr. Giles,
+since you appear to be rather anxious to recall it to my
+recollection."
+
+"It was rather a special occasion for you, Mr. Elmore; and a still
+more special occasion--for Mr. Patterson."
+
+"My uncle?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Elmore, your uncle. Don't you remember last Sunday evening
+at Brighton station?"
+
+Rodney hesitated.
+
+"Why do you ask?"
+
+"You do remember, Mr. Elmore, and so do I. I can see you still, coming
+sauntering down the platform smoking a cigarette and looking into the
+first-class carriages to see which of them would suit you best. You
+chose one, and then stood for a moment or two at the door, looking up
+and down the platform, to see, as it were, if there was anything which
+caught your eye. Then you got into the carriage, and took the seat at
+the farther end, facing the engine. You thought you were going to
+journey up all alone, but just as the train was starting a stout,
+elderly gentleman came bustling along. Yours was the only carriage
+door that was open, and I helped him in. I shut the door, and you went
+out of the station together. Don't you remember that? Look at me
+carefully. Don't you remember that I was the party who helped your
+uncle into your carriage? Just look at me and think."
+
+Again Rodney hesitated, and seemed to think. Then he said, in a tone
+the indifference of which was perhaps a trifle studied:
+
+"Really, Mr. Giles, I don't quite know what it is you expect me to
+say."
+
+The man gave a little laugh.
+
+"Anyhow, Mr. Elmore, you've said it."
+
+Without an attempt at a farewell greeting, he walked quickly back
+across the street, to where, as Rodney had been aware, another person
+had been waiting.
+
+The pair walked briskly off together side by side, and Rodney went up
+the steps into the house. He knew that, as he had expected, the
+presence of that platform inspector was going to prove awkward for
+him; more awkward than he cared to think. But he did think, as he
+turned into his sitting-room; and still stood thinking as the door was
+gently opened and Mabel Joyce came in. Her agitation was almost
+unpleasantly evident. One could see that her hands were trembling,
+that her lips were twitching, and that, indeed, it was all she could
+do to keep her whole body from shaking. She came quickly towards the
+table, and leaned upon the edge; plainly it was a very real assistance
+in aiding her to stand. And her voice was as tremulous as her person.
+
+"Did--did you see him?"
+
+"My dear Mabel, did I see whom?"
+
+She seemed to clutch the table still more tightly.
+
+"Rodney, don't! It's no good. Do you think I don't know? What's the
+good of pretending with me, when you know--I know? What cock-and-bull
+story is this about some man, some fool, some lunatic, who says--he
+did it? Do you think that I don't know, that Mr. Dale doesn't
+know, that they all don't know? Rodney," and her voice trembled so
+that it was with pain she spoke at all, "there'll--there'll--be a
+warrant--out--in the morning. Oh, my God! my God!"
+
+And the girl threw herself forward on the table, crying and trembling
+as if on the verge of a convulsion.
+
+"What on earth, Mabel, is the use of spoiling your pretty face like
+this? I am a little worried to-night, and that's the truth. If there's
+anything you want to say to me, old girl, say it, and have done with
+it."
+
+He sighed. She raised herself from the table, and looked across at
+him.
+
+"Rodney, it won't be any use our marrying." There was a big sob. "That
+won't save you--now. God knows what will."
+
+"It's really very good of you to worry about the sort of man that I
+have been to you; take my tip, my dear, don't worry. I'll win
+through."
+
+"But how? How? You don't understand! This--this fool, whoever he is,
+who pretends he did it, has only made them all the keener. They--they
+mean to have you now."
+
+"They? And who are _they?_"
+
+"There's Dale, and Giles, and Harlow, and--and don't ask me who
+besides. They're all wild because--because you tricked them; because
+they made such idiots of themselves at the inquest."
+
+Rodney raised his arms above his head, and stretched himself, and
+yawned, as if he were a little weary.
+
+"They were a trifle premature; coroner, and jury, an eminent
+specialist, and Harlow, and all--the whole jolly lot of them. I don't
+wonder they feel a trifle wild. But why with me?"
+
+"You know, Rodney--you know! You know! Oh, don't--don't pretend!"
+
+"On my word of honour--if it's any use employing that pretty figure of
+speech with you--I am not pretending. I've still another trick in the
+bag; that's all. And that's what you don't give me credit for, my
+dear."
+
+"What--what trick's that? You've too many tricks--you're all tricks!
+It's--Rodney, it's--it's too late for tricks!"
+
+"But not for this pretty trick of mine. Mabel, it's such a pretty one!
+But now you listen to me for a moment. Pull yourself together. Stand
+up; let me see your face."
+
+She did as he bade her, and stood, leaning on the table with both her
+hands, looking at him with eyes from which the tears were streaming.
+
+"Mabel, you asked me to marry you. I said I would, and I will."
+
+"But--what's the use of it now? You don't understand."
+
+"Oh, yes, I do; I don't know if I can get you to believe me, but I do
+understand much better than you suppose; and, indeed, I rather fancy
+even better than you do. Anyhow, the supposition is that we're to be
+bride and bridegroom, dear, to-morrow; let's for goodness' sake be
+friends to-night. Let's try to say, at any rate, one or two pleasant
+things, as, not so very long ago, we used to do. What's going to come
+of it all you seem doubtful, and I can hardly pretend that I'm quite
+sure. I don't suppose, Mabel, that you ever read Dante, or, perhaps,
+even heard of him. But, in a tolerably well-known poem by Dante, there
+is this story. He goes down, with a party named Virgil, into one of
+the lowest depths of hell, and there he meets a poor devil who seems
+to be having an uncommonly bad time. They ask him what he has done
+that he should suffer so, and he answers something to this effect. He
+has it that his creed was a very simple one. He believed, and he acted
+on his belief, that one moment of perfect bliss was worth an eternity
+of hell, He had that perfect moment, the lucky bargee! And now for
+ever he's in hell. Yet, do you know, he isn't sorry; he thinks that
+moment was worth the price he paid. That's a moral story, and I don't
+pretend that I've got it quite right; but that's what it comes to;
+and, upon my word, I'm sometimes half disposed to think that that
+man's creed is mine. I guess it would be rather too much to ask you to
+make it yours; but--this you'll grant--we have had our moments of
+bliss, which was nearly perfect. Now, haven't we?"
+
+"I--I don't know why you're talking to me like this. I--I know we
+have. Oh, Rodney, how--how I wish we hadn't!"
+
+"Well, I don't--and I rather fancy I'm in a worse fix than you. But,
+as I live, when I think of the fun we've had, I don't care--that." And
+he snapped his fingers. "They can do as they please, but they can't
+take from me my memories; and if I'm face to face with hell--I'll
+carry them there."
+
+He held out his hands to her with a little gesture of appeal. "Lady,
+talking will do no good, so let's say pretty things. Sweetheart, I'll
+be shot if I won't call you sweetheart, look you never so sourly at
+me!"
+
+"Oh, Rodney, I--I don't want to look sourly at you! Sourly! Oh, my
+dear, if you only knew!"
+
+"I do know, and that's just it. I want you to know. Sweetheart, good
+night!"
+
+He still held out his hands to her. As she looked at him, with
+straining eyes, she seemed to waver.
+
+"Rodney!"
+
+"Good night. Come here and say it--or shall we meet half-way?"
+
+He moved towards her round the table, and she, as if she could not
+help it, moved towards him. And they said good night.
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER XXVII
+
+        THE GENTLEMAN'S DEPARTURE AND THE LADY'S EXPLANATIONS
+
+
+In the morning early Mabel Joyce knocked at the door of Mr. Elmore's
+bedroom with a jug of shaving water in her hand; knocked softly, as if
+she did not wish to rouse the sleeper too abruptly from his rest. When
+no answer came she clung to the handle of the door, as a tremor seemed
+to pass all over her; then, presently, knocked again. Still no reply.
+She bent her head towards the panel, listening intently. Then,
+suddenly, decisively, rapped three times and waited. Still no reply.
+With a quick movement she turned the handle and passed into the room;
+and, when in, closed the door rapidly behind her, standing with her
+back against it, in an attitude of one who was afraid. She looked
+towards the bed. It was empty; the sleeper had awaked himself from
+slumber, had risen, and had gone. Putting the jug beside her on the
+floor, she passed quickly towards the bed; leaning over it, she stared
+at something which caught her eye upon the pillow. On the white slip
+was a dark red stain. She put out her hand, clutched it with her
+finger, withdrew her finger, and looked at it. Part of the redness
+had passed from the pillow to the tip of her finger. All at once
+she dropped on to her knees beside the empty bed, and, bowing her
+head upon the coverlet, stayed motionless. Then rose again to
+her feet, looking round her. Her glance caught something on the
+dressing-table--an envelope. Moving towards it, she snatched it up.
+It was addressed, simply, "Mrs. Joyce." Although it seemed scarcely
+likely that such an address was intended for her, she ripped open
+the flap, and took out the sheet of paper it contained.
+
+
+"DEAR MRS. JOYCE,--I'm off, to another world--the world beyond the
+grave. I'm more of a coward than I thought; and yet I don't know that
+it's quite that. I have tried to cut my throat in bed--your bed; but
+my hand bungled. I have made rather a mess--and then I stopped. It
+seemed rather a pity to spoil your bedclothes, and I did not like to
+feel the razor. I am going to do it another way--outside your house,
+in a place I know of, where I hope no one will ever find me. I want no
+coroner to sit upon my body, and I want no jury to make me the subject
+of their silly verdicts.
+
+"I have heaps of reasons--I dare say you'll hear enough about them
+before long. I'd rather you heard of them than other people heard of
+them, when I am not here. It is because I am so anxious that the
+hearing should take place behind my back that I am going. I don't
+quite know what I owe you, but I believe I'm a little in arrears.
+You'll find ten pounds on the table; it should more than pay you, and
+even make up for the week's notice which I have not given. All my
+possessions that I leave behind--and there are quite a number of
+decent suits of clothes--are yours. Do as you like with them. If you
+sell them, and get the price you ought to get, you should not do
+badly.
+
+"Tell everybody what I have told you, and, if you like, show them this
+letter. You have not been a bad landlady; I don't suppose I shall be
+better suited where I am going; nor have I been a bad lodger; if you
+get a better you'll be in luck.
+
+"Say good-bye to Mabel. There is a portrait of a kind in the locket
+which you will find near this envelope. I think I should like her to
+have it, as one to whom I am indebted for many favours.--Your one-time
+lodger,
+
+                                      "RODNEY ELMORE.
+
+"Do you think I shall find it lonely where I am going? I wonder!"
+
+
+The girl, having read this letter to the end, caught up an
+old-fashioned locket; doubtless the one referred to. Opening it, there
+looked out at her the young man's face--a miniature, not ill-done. She
+pressed it to her lips, not once, nor twice, but again and again and
+again. Then, shutting it, slipped it inside her blouse. She gave
+another rapid glance about the room, moved hither and thither as if to
+make sure that there was nothing left which might tell more than need
+be told; then, passing hastily from the room, went not downstairs to
+her mother but upstairs to the lodger overhead. At his door she also
+knocked. Response was instant.
+
+"Who's there? Come in!"
+
+She went in. Mr. Dale was sitting up in bed She stayed close to the
+door.
+
+"He's gone!" she said.
+
+Mr. Dale, although he seemed but recently roused from sleep, seemed to
+grasp her meaning in a moment.
+
+"Gone where?"
+
+"He's left this."
+
+She tossed the letter she had been reading so dexterously that it fell
+just before him on the bed. He caught it up and read.
+
+"What's it mean?" he asked. She seemed to consider for a moment.
+
+"You know as well as I do."
+
+"I suppose I do--when you come to think of it. He's a beauty--a
+shining star!" He stared at the letter. "What does he mean?"
+
+"At any rate, he means one thing--he's gone." Mr. Dale leaned back,
+looking at the girl as if he were endeavouring to find something on
+her face which should give him a hint what to say next. When he spoke
+again it was slowly, as if he measured his words; yet bitterly, as if
+behind them was a meaning which scarcely jumped to the eye.
+
+"Look here, Mabel, this isn't going to be an easy thing to do. I'm
+going to have all my work cut out if it's to be managed. You know what
+I mean by managed. And, as I'm alive, I don't want to do it for
+nothing--and I don't mean to."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"If the tale's not to be told--you know what tale--it must be on
+terms. I won't ask what this chap's been to you, because I believe I
+know. He's been--a blackguard; that's what he's been to you; and, on
+my word I believe you women like a man who's a blackguard. But I don't
+want to talk about that now."
+
+"I shouldn't, especially as I expect mother will be calling me before
+you've done."
+
+The shade of sarcasm in the girl's tone made the man regard her with
+knitted brows.
+
+"Never you mind about your mother; I know all about her. For once in
+your life you'll just listen to me. Mr. Rodney Elmore has gone,
+vanished from the scene--he's dead; here's this letter to prove it
+to anyone who doubts it." The speaker grinned. "I'm not dead; I'm
+alive--very much alive; and I want you to take a particular note of
+that."
+
+"Do you think I don't know that you're alive?"
+
+Mr. Dale's tone grew suddenly fierce.
+
+"I haven't got Mr. Rodney Elmore's pretty tone, nor his pretty
+manners, nor his pretty words; but I do care for you." He laughed.
+"Care for you! Why, I'd eat the dirt you walk on; and you've made me
+do it more than once. Mabel, if I keep my mouth shut, and get others
+to keep theirs shut, will you stop treating me as if I were dirt, and
+treat me as if I were a man?"
+
+"I'll treat you as you like; I'll do whatever you like; I'll be your
+slave, if--if you do that."
+
+She stood close up against the door, with both hands pressed against
+her breast, and her words seemed to come from her in gasps. As he saw
+that in very truth she suffered, his whole bearing underwent a sudden
+change. He all at once grew tender.
+
+"Mabel, I'll make no bargain; I'll do it--for your sake; and--I'll
+trust to you for my reward."
+
+With odd suddenness she turned right round, so that her back was
+towards him, and her face pressed against the panel of the door. Her
+pain seemed to hurt him.
+
+"For God's sake don't--don't do that! I'd rather--do what he's only
+pretended to do than give you pain. Cheer up--just try hard to cheer
+up, if it's only just enough to help you to know what ought to be done
+next."
+
+The suggestion affected her in a fashion which perhaps took him a
+little aback. She turned again as suddenly as she had done before,
+this time towards him. Her eyes blazed; the words came swiftly from
+her lips.
+
+"Do you think that I don't know what I'm going to do next? Do you
+think it hasn't been in my mind all night? Why, I've got it all cut,
+and planned, and dried. Leave that to me; all I want is for you to
+see"--her voice fell--"the tale's not told."
+
+"It sha'n't be if I can help it; and I think I can."
+
+The words still came swiftly from her.
+
+"Say nothing to mother, say nothing to anyone; leave me to do all the
+telling--you know nothing; that's all you've got to know. You
+understand?"
+
+His voice as he replied was grim.
+
+"Oh, yes, I understand."
+
+"Then, for the present, it's good-bye."
+
+She opened the door. He checked her.
+
+"I shall see you to-night when I come in."
+
+"You shall; if--if nothing's been told."
+
+She went from the room to her own on the landing below, put on her
+hat, her coat, and her gloves, and went quickly down the stairs.
+Seldom was a pretty girl ready more quickly for the street. She
+already had the front door open when her mother called to her.
+
+"Mabel, what to goodness is the matter with you? Where are you going?"
+
+The girl seemed for a moment to be in doubt whether or not to let her
+mother's question go unheeded; then decided to vouchsafe her at least
+some scraps of information.
+
+"Mother, I believe Mr. Elmore's gone."
+
+"Gone? Mr. Elmore? What's the girl talking about?"
+
+"His bedroom's empty, and there's ten pounds on the dressing-table,
+and I'm going straight off to the City to see."
+
+"To the City!"
+
+The astonishment of the lady's voice was justified; she came quickly
+along the passage as if to learn what might be the significance of the
+mystery which she felt was in the air. But her daughter did not wait
+for her approach; she was through the door, had shut it with a bang,
+before her mother had realised what it was she meant to do.
+
+Miss Joyce did not go to the City; she went instead to No. 90, Russell
+Square. There she inquired for Miss Patterson. She was told the lady
+was at breakfast.
+
+"Tell her--tell her that I'm Miss Joyce, and that I must see her--at
+once."
+
+She was in the hall, and looked so strange as she leaned against the
+wall, with her white face and frightened eyes, that the maid looked at
+her as if she could not make her out at all.
+
+"Miss Joyce, did you say the name was?"
+
+"Yes--Joyce--Mabel Joyce; tell Miss Patterson that Miss Joyce must see
+her at once."
+
+The maid went into a room upon the right--the dining-room--presently
+reappeared, with Miss Patterson behind her. Gladys came out into the
+hall.
+
+"Miss Joyce! You wish to see me? On what business?"
+
+"Somewhere--somewhere where we'll be private."
+
+Gladys observed her with curious eyes; then she held open the
+dining-room door.
+
+"I'm at breakfast; but, if you don't mind, you'd better come in here."
+
+Mabel went in, Gladys followed. The stranger, now that they were
+alone, presented such a woebegone picture that, in spite of herself,
+Gladys was moved.
+
+"You don't seem well--are you ill? Hadn't you better sit down?--here's
+a chair."
+
+She pushed the chair towards her visitor, but Mabel would none of it.
+
+"No, it doesn't matter, I'd--I'd rather stand. My mother was Mr.
+Elmore's--landlady."
+
+"Joyce? Oh, yes, of course, I thought I knew the name; I remember."
+Perhaps unconsciously to herself, Gladys's tone hardened; she drew
+herself a little straighter, she even moved a little away. In spite of
+her obvious trouble, Mabel noticed.
+
+"You needn't be afraid of me--I shan't bite."
+
+"I was not afraid that you would bite. What is it you wish with me,
+Miss Joyce?"
+
+"That."
+
+She stretched out towards the other a letter. Gladys eyed it askance,
+almost, one might have thought from her demeanour, that she feared
+that it might bite.
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"If you take it--you'll see. You're right this time in being afraid;
+you've cause to be more afraid of that than of me. But it's written by
+somebody you know well, and--you'd better read it."
+
+Still doubtfully, as if she really were in awe of what the sheet of
+paper might portend, she took it gingerly from the other's fingers.
+Then she read it. And as she read, a curious change came over, not
+only her countenance, but her whole bearing. When she had reached the
+end her hands dropped to her side, she stared at the girl in front of
+her as she might have done at a visitant from another sphere.
+
+"What--does this letter mean?"
+
+For answer, Mabel took another piece of paper from that woman's
+universal pocket--her blouse. She held it out to Gladys, and, even
+more cautiously than before, Gladys took it with unwilling fingers.
+This time, as she read it, it was with an obvious lack of
+comprehension.
+
+"What on earth is this?"
+
+"Can't you see? Isn't it plain enough? It's a marriage licence--now
+can you see?"
+
+Gladys seemed to make an effort to achieve steadiness, not with entire
+success. As if to hide her partial failure, she went down the room to
+the seat which she had been occupying at the other end of the table.
+Resting her hand on the top of the chair, raising the paper again, she
+re-read it. Her back was towards Mabel, her face could not have been
+more eloquent, one saw a spasm pass right across it. She was still;
+there was a perceptible interval; she turned towards her visitor. Her
+face seemed to have aged; one saw that as she grew older she would not
+grow better-looking.
+
+"I see that this purports to be a licence of marriage--I don't know
+much about these things, but I take it that the marriage was to be
+before a registrar--between Rodney Elmore, who, I presume, is my
+cousin----"
+
+"He's your cousin right enough."
+
+"And--Mabel Joyce. Are you the Mabel Joyce referred to?"
+
+"I am; we were to have been married to-day--at noon sharp; the
+registrar--he'll be waiting for us, but he'll have to wait. Mr. Rodney
+Elmore, that's your cousin and my husband that was to be, he's
+bolted."
+
+"Bolted? I see. Is that what this letter means?"
+
+"That's just exactly what it means."
+
+"It doesn't mean that--he's--he's killed himself?"
+
+"Not much it doesn't; I know the gentleman. It simply means that, for
+reasons of his own--I'm one of them and I daresay you're another--he's
+cut and run."
+
+Gladys's tone could scarcely have been more frigid or her bearing more
+outwardly calm; unfortunately both the frigidity and the calmness were
+a little overdone.
+
+"I see. I'm much obliged to you for bringing me--this very interesting
+piece of news. I believe this is yours. I scarcely think I need detain
+you longer."
+
+She returned to Mabel both the licence and the letter. Enclosing them
+one in the other, the girl passed from the room out of the house.
+Gladys stood staring at the door through which she had left, exactly,
+if she could only have known it, as Rodney had stared when she had
+vanished the afternoon before. Then she clenched her fists and shook
+them in the air.
+
+"To think that I should ever have been such a fool! That I should ever
+have let him--soil me with his touch! Dad was right; what a fool he
+must have thought me! If I'd only listened, what might not--have been
+saved!"
+
+Shortly afterwards she entered the office at St. Paul's Churchyard.
+Andrews advanced to greet her.
+
+"Mr. Elmore has not yet arrived."
+
+"I know he hasn't; I wish to speak to you."
+
+She led the way towards her father's private room; as he followed
+Andrews seemed to recognise something in her carriage which recalled
+his master. There could be no doubt that this was his daughter. When
+they were in the room and the door was closed, Miss Patterson seated
+herself in her father's chair. She looked the managing man in the
+face, with something in her glance which again recalled her sire.
+
+"Andrews, I suppose you can observe a confidence?"
+
+Andrews smiled; he rubbed his hands together; one felt that he could
+not make out the lady's mood, still less achieve a satisfactory guess
+at what was in the air.
+
+"I hope so, Miss Patterson, I'm sure. Your father reposed many and
+many a confidence in me, and I never betrayed one of them--I'm not
+likely now to betray yours."
+
+"Right, Andrews, I believe you. I believe my father knew the kind of
+man who may be trusted; he trusted you, and I will. Shake hands." She
+offered him her hand. As if doubtful whether or not he was taking a
+liberty, he took it in his. They gravely shook hands.
+
+"It's very good of you, Miss Patterson, I'm sure, to say so; but what
+you do say is true--your father trusted me, and so can you."
+
+She eyed him for some seconds as if debating in her mind what to say
+to him and just how to say it. Then it came from her, as it were, all
+of a sudden.
+
+"Andrews, I told you that my cousin, Rodney Elmore, and I were engaged
+to be married. I was mistaken--we are not. Stop! I don't want you to
+ask any questions; that's the confidence I'm reposing in you, I want
+you to ask none, I simply tell you we're not. Another thing. You told
+me when I came in just now that Mr. Elmore had not come yet. Andrews,
+he never will come again--to this office."
+
+"Indeed, miss! Is that so, miss?"
+
+The girl smiled--gravely.
+
+"There, again, Andrews--my confidence! You are to ask no questions.
+Neither you nor I will see Mr. Elmore again--ever. Still one other
+thing. You remember what my father said in his will about leaving the
+conduct of his business in your hands? I echo my father's words; I
+want you to manage it for me on my father's lines."
+
+The old man was evidently confused. He stood staring at the girl and
+rubbing his hands, as if he found himself in a quandary from which he
+sought a way out.
+
+"I'm sure, Miss Patterson, that I'm very gratified by the confidence
+you place in me, and I want to do my best to ask no questions,
+but--but there's one remark I ought to make." He bent over the table
+as if he wished the remark in question to reach her ear alone. "I
+don't know, Miss Patterson, if you are aware that yesterday morning
+Mr. Elmore drew a thousand pounds from the bank."
+
+"Yesterday morning? When did he do that? Not when we were there?"
+
+"It appears that he returned directly after we had left, and cashed a
+cheque for a thousand pounds across the counter, took it in tens and
+fives and gold--rather a funny way of taking a cheque like that."
+
+The girl said nothing; just possible she thought the more--it is still
+more possible that hers was disagreeable thinking. It came back to
+her; she understood; the letter-case which had been left behind; her
+sitting in the cab while he had gone into the bank to fetch it.
+Letter-case? So the letter-case was a cheque for a thousand pounds;
+and while she'd been sitting in the cab he had been putting her money
+into his pocket. What a pretty fellow this cousin was, this lover
+of--how many ages ago? Could she ever have cared, to say nothing of
+loved, a thing like this? This girl had a sense of humour which was
+her own; at the thought of it she smiled--indeed, suddenly she leaned
+back in her chair and laughed outright.
+
+"Cashed a cheque for a thousand pounds, did he? Well, Andrews, dad
+left him nothing in his will--I wonder why. How funny! Then there's
+still another thing to tell you, Andrews. Let them understand at the
+bank, as quickly as you can, that they're not to cash any more of Mr.
+Elmore's cheques which are drawn on my account. Now, Andrews, will you
+be so very good as to send someone to Mr. Wilkes, and give him my most
+respectful compliments, and say, if he can possibly spare a moment, I
+should like very much indeed to see him here at once."
+
+When Miss Joyce got home she found, waiting in the sitting-room which
+had so recently been Rodney's, Mr. Austin. The gentleman regarded her
+as she came in with an air of grave disapprobation.
+
+"You are, I believe, the landlady's daughter."
+
+Mabel nodded.
+
+"I have just had a few words with your mother, who appears to be an
+extraordinary woman, and who has told me an extraordinary tale."
+
+"My mother's not in the habit of telling extraordinary tales to
+anyone."
+
+"Then, what does she mean by--by talking stuff and nonsense about Mr.
+Elmore's having gone, and--and I don't know what besides?"
+
+Miss Joyce drew a long breath, and seemed to nerve herself for an
+effort. She had had a good deal to bear that morning, and to retain
+even a vestige of self-command needed all her efforts.
+
+"Mr. Austin, Mr. Elmore has gone, and he's left a letter behind him in
+which he pretends that he has committed suicide; but he hasn't, I know
+better. But here's the letter; you might like to look at it."
+
+He read the letter with which we are already familiar; and it had a
+very similar effect on him to that which it had had on others, only in
+his case he read it over and over again, as if to make sure that its
+meaning had not escaped him, yet that its meaning had escaped him his
+words made plain.
+
+"You--you may understand this letter, young woman, but I certainly do
+not. What--what does this most extraordinary, and, as it seems to me,
+inconsequent, letter mean?"
+
+"I'll tell you just as shortly as I can exactly what it means. And,
+perhaps, when I have told you you won't ask any more questions than
+you can conveniently help, because--I've had just about as much to
+bear as I can manage. Rodney Elmore--I'm not going to call him Mr.
+Elmore, I've as much right to call him Rodney as anybody in this
+world; he's got himself into a mess, and I'm one of them. Why, he
+promised to marry me to-day at twelve o'clock."
+
+"He--promised! Young woman!"
+
+"Here's the licence to prove it; but--I suppose he daren't face it; so
+he's gone, and he's done me, and I'm not the only one he's done. Has
+he done your daughter?"
+
+"Your question, put in such a form, I entirely decline to answer."
+
+"You needn't; I know. And, mind you, I don't believe he's gone alone
+either, wherever it is he has gone to. What's the name of that girl
+down at Brighton that he was so thick with, and your son's
+sweetheart?"
+
+Mr. Austin started as if something had stung him. He stared at the
+girl with growing apprehension.
+
+"You can't mean----?"
+
+"Yes, I can. Wasn't her first name Mary? I have heard the other--it's
+a queer one--and I forget it. But you ask your son, if he cares for
+the girl, to make inquiries, and if she's missing, and he wants her
+new address, to find out Rodney Elmore's, and--he'll find hers."
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+                       A CONSPIRACY OF SILENCE
+
+
+There are few worse half-hours in life than that in which a man finds
+that the one person whom he has liked, and respected, and trusted, and
+believed in before all others, is a scamp, a liar, and a cur. As Mr.
+Austin sat cowering in the corner of his cab it was to him almost as
+if he had been these things, instead of Rodney Elmore. He ascended the
+steps of the Kensington house a little stiffly, a little bowed, a
+little shorn of his full height; he bore himself, indeed, as if he
+were ashamed; it was with a sense of shame that he spoke to his son,
+who was apparently just about to go out as he went in.
+
+"Tom, I want to speak to you."
+
+The lad looked at his father with a look of surprise.
+
+"Why, pater; what's wrong?"
+
+The father closed the door of the room into which he had preceded his
+son. There was something shifty in his bearing; he seemed unwilling to
+meet the youngster's glances.
+
+"Tom, what was that you were saying about--about Mary Carmichael?"
+
+The lad smiled, ruefully enough; there was an awkwardness about his
+manner. He turned away, as if on his side he had no wish to meet his
+father's eyes.
+
+"All I can make out is that she has gone. It seems that while that old
+aunt of hers was out yesterday afternoon--she vanished. She just left
+a note behind her to say that she was going, and that they weren't to
+bother, because she wasn't coming back; but they'd hear from her some
+day--she couldn't say just when."
+
+"Tom, she's gone with Rodney Elmore."
+
+The lad swung round as on a pivot.
+
+"Pater! What do you mean?"
+
+The father told the story as he knew it, the lad listening--first as
+one in a dream, and then as one in a rage. Then, with a gasp as of
+astonishment, he blurted out:
+
+"But what about Stella?"
+
+"Yes; what about Stella? Stella's here, and--why, where's Rodney? I
+thought, father, he'd come with you."
+
+Miss Austin had come running into the room eagerly, happily,
+laughingly, taking it for granted that her lover was within. As she
+looked from her father to her brother, and noted the oddity of their
+manner, her eyes grew wider open.
+
+"Father, where--where is Rodney?"
+
+Then the father told the tale to her; it was the hardest task he had
+ever had to perform. The girl first scorned him, then laughed, then
+doubted, and then, in a fit of what was very like fury, announced her
+intention of going in search of Rodney, whom she declared she believed
+to be cruelly aspersed, and learning the truth from his own lips. It
+was with difficulty she was stayed. When she, at last, was brought to
+understand, she was already another Stella to the one her father had
+known. She was not to be comforted. And when her mother came, and
+heard the story, too, she put her arm about her daughter's waist and
+led her to her room, and there remained alone with her an hour or
+more. When she came out she also was another woman; and her daughter
+was in her room, alone.
+
+And that, to all intents and purposes, so far as it is known, is the
+end of the story, though the real end is not yet. Such stories take a
+long time ending. Sometimes they are continued in the generation which
+comes after, and never end. Mr. Philip Walter Augustus Parker was
+tried for the murder of Graham Patterson, and, apparently to his
+complete satisfaction, was found guilty. The law plays such pranks
+oftener than is commonly supposed. The story he told was so well put
+together, all the joints fitted so well. As the judge instructed the
+jury they really had no option; on the evidence there was only one
+possible verdict; and that was returned. Mr. Parker earned his
+credentials; he was sent, as he desired, on a lengthy visit to
+Broadmoor. The whole story might have fallen to pieces and his visit
+to Broadmoor indefinitely postponed had the platform inspector at
+Brighton station--Edward Giles--given his evidence in another way. A
+few questions would have changed the whole face of affairs, but they
+were not asked. He told that it was he who had helped Graham Patterson
+into the carriage, and also that there already was someone in it when
+the dead man entered. At that point the questions which were put to
+him went awry. He was asked if the prisoner was that other person; he
+replied that he did not recognise him, but as, when the witness had
+entered the box, Mr. Parker had greeted him with that unpleasant
+little chuckle of his, and had proclaimed that he recognised him, even
+before he opened his mouth, as the porter, as he put it, who had been
+of assistance to Mr. Patterson, for the judge, as for the jury, that
+was sufficient. Giles himself was evidently taken aback, and while he
+declared that he did not recognise the prisoner, he admitted that if
+Parker had not been the man in the carriage, he could not understand
+how he recognised him. So Mr. Parker had his wish.
+
+Mr. Andrews is still the managing man, as well as a partner, of the
+firm of Graham Patterson, which continues to thrive on the same sound
+old lines. And Gladys Patterson is the wife of Stephen Wilkes--that
+strikes even her, when she thinks of it, as queer. How it came about,
+she has told her husband more than once, she does not understand; she
+wonders sometimes, so she tells him, if her father could ever have had
+it in his mind that that was the match he would have chosen. She is
+thinking of Rodney's words. Her husband laughs, and assures her that
+to the best of his knowledge and belief her father never dreamt of
+anything of the kind. Whereat she thinks all the more of Rodney's
+words, having a dim suspicion hidden in her somewhere that it was
+because of what he said that this strange thing had happened, and, in
+what she feels is in quite an uncanny way, that it was he who brought
+it all about.
+
+Mabel Joyce is Mrs. George Dale, fairly happy, as the average wife's
+standard of happiness goes, and Dale is happy too; but there is about
+him a suggestion of solicitous anxiety, as if he would be glad to be
+as certain of her satisfaction with the way that things have turned
+out, as of his own.
+
+Stella is still unmarried, and likely to remain so. She is not quite
+the ordinary type of girl. When she gave her heart to Rodney Elmore,
+it was given for ever; although she would probably be the last person
+in the world to admit it, he has it still. As, she declares, she will
+never marry save where her heart is, her prospects of remaining Stella
+Austin are stronger than either her father or her mother care to own.
+Tom is married; was married within six months of his heart being
+finally broken--to the girl with the mischievous eyes. And he is happy
+as a man may be; and he is a man, even up to his father's standard of
+manhood. He is practically the head of his father's firm, and a
+sufficiently effective and energetic head he makes. He declares that
+it is his wife who has done it, and that she has been and still is and
+ever will be the only woman in the world to him. He forgets; men--and
+women--sometimes do.
+
+Nothing definite has ever been heard of Rodney Elmore; but among those
+who knew him in his youth there is a profound conviction that he still
+lives. One day, a month or so after his marriage, there came a
+postcard to Tom Austin from one of the northern States of America,
+with just these words on the back:
+
+
+"Congratulations--good wishes--am delighted!
+
+                                              "M."
+
+
+He was the only person who ever saw the card. He tore it up and burnt
+it. About him for nearly a week afterwards there was, at odd moments,
+an unusually reflective air. His wife asked him what he was thinking
+about.
+
+"Why," he told her, "what should I think about but you."
+
+He was thinking, wondering, how close to "M." was Rodney Elmore--his
+boyhood's friend!--as one result of what was very like a conspiracy of
+silence.
+
+
+
+
+                           *   *   *   *   *
+Printed By Cassell & Company, Limited, La Belle Sauvage, London, E.C.
+
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Master of Deception, by Richard Marsh
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Master of Deception
+
+Author: Richard Marsh
+
+Illustrator: Dudley Tennant
+
+Release Date: November 28, 2011 [EBook #38161]
+[Last updated: September 16, 2014]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MASTER OF DECEPTION ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Note:<br>
+
+
+1. Page scan source:<br>
+http://books.google.com/books?id=gD4PAAAAQAAJ</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>A MASTER OF DECEPTION</h2>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/frontispiece.png" alt="You see, uncle--this one; as it were,
+death reduced to its lowest possible denomination"><br>
+&quot;You see, uncle--this one;
+as it were, death reduced<br>
+to its lowest possible denomination'&quot; (<i>see page</i> 99).</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h1>A MASTER<br>
+
+OF DECEPTION</h1>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h5>By</h5>
+
+<h2>Richard Marsh</h2>
+
+<h5>Author of &quot;Twin Sisters,&quot; &quot;The Lovely Mrs. Blake,&quot;<br>
+&quot;The Interrupted Kiss,&quot; etc., etc.</h5>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>With a Frontispiece by<br>
+DUDLEY TENNANT</h4>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h3>CASSELL AND COMPANY, LTD<br>
+London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne<br>
+1913</h3>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+<table cellpadding="10" style="width:90%; margin-left:5%; font-weight:bold">
+<colgroup><col style="width:10%; text-align:right"><col style="width:90%"></colgroup>
+<tr>
+<td>CHAPTER</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>1.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_01" href="#div1_01">The Inclining of a Twig.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>2.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_02" href="#div1_02">His Uncle And His Cousin.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>3.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_03" href="#div1_03">Rodney Elmore the First.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>4.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_04" href="#div1_04">The Three Girls and the Three Telegrams.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>5.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_05" href="#div1_05">Stella.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>6.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_06" href="#div1_06">Gladys.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>7.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_07" href="#div1_07">Mary.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>8.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_08" href="#div1_08">By The 9.10: The First Part of the Journey.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>9.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_09" href="#div1_09">The Second.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>10.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_10" href="#div1_10">In the Carriage--Alone.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>11.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_11" href="#div1_11">The Stranger.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>12.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_12" href="#div1_12">Marking Time.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>13.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_13" href="#div1_13">Spreading His Wings.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>14.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_14" href="#div1_14">Business First, Pleasure Afterwards.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>15.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_15" href="#div1_15">Mabel Joyce.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>16.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_16" href="#div1_16">Thomas Austin, Senior.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>17.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_17" href="#div1_17">The Acting Head of the Firm.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>18.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_18" href="#div1_18">The Perfect Lover.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>19.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_19" href="#div1_19">The Few Words at the End of the Evening.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>20.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_20" href="#div1_20">The First Line of an Old Song.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>21.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_21" href="#div1_21">The Dead Man's Letter.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>22.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_22" href="#div1_22">Philip Walter Augustus Parker.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>23.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_23" href="#div1_23">Necessary Credentials.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>24.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_24" href="#div1_24">Lovers Parting.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>25.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_25" href="#div1_25">Stella's Betrothal Feast.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>26.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_26" href="#div1_26">Good Night.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>27.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_27" href="#div1_27">The Gentleman's Departure and the Lady's Explanation.</a></td>
+</tr><tr>
+<td>28.</td>
+<td><a name="div1Ref_28" href="#div1_28">A Conspiracy of Silence.</a></td>
+</tr></table>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h1>A MASTER OF DECEPTION</h1>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_01" href="#div1Ref_01">THE INCLINING OF A TWIG</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">When Rodney Elmore was eleven years old, placards appeared on
+the walls announcing that a circus was coming to Uffham. Rodney
+asked his mother if he might go to it. Mrs. Elmore, for what
+appeared to her to be sufficient reasons, said &quot;No.&quot; Three days
+before the circus was to come he went with his mother to Mrs.
+Bray's house, a little way out of Uffham, to tea. The two ladies
+having feminine mysteries to discuss, he was told to go into the
+garden to play. As he went he passed a little room, the door of
+which was open. Peeping in, as curious children will, something
+on a corner of the mantelpiece caught his eye. Going closer to
+see what it was, he discovered that there were two half-crowns,
+one on the top of the other. The desire to go to the circus,
+which had never left him, gathered sudden force. Here were the
+means of going. Whipping the two coins into the pocket of his
+knickerbockers, he ran from the room and into the garden.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">During the remainder of the afternoon the half-crowns were a
+burden to him. Not because he was weighed down by a sense of
+guilt; but because he feared that their absence would be
+discovered; that they would be taken from him; that he would be
+left poor indeed. He kept down at the far end of the garden,
+considering if it would not be wiser to conceal them in some
+spot from which he would be able to retrieve them at the proper
+time. But Mrs. Bray's was at, what to him was, a great distance
+from his own home; he might not be able to get there again
+before the eventful day. When the maid came to fetch him in the
+coins were still in his pocket; they were still there when he
+left the house with his mother.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On the eventful day his mother had to go to London. Before she
+went she told Rodney that she had given the servant money to
+take him to the circus. This was rather a blow to the boy, since
+he found himself possessed of money which, for its intended
+purpose, was useless. He had hidden the half-crowns up the
+chimney in his bedroom. Aware that it might not be easy to
+explain how he came to be the owner of so much cash, there they
+remained for quite a time. So far as he knew, nothing was said
+by Mrs. Bray about the money which had gone; certainly no
+suspicion attached to him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Later he went to a public school. During the third term he went
+with the school bicycle club for a spin. The master in charge
+had a spill. As he fell some coins dropped out of his pocket.
+Rodney, who was the only one behind him, saw a yellow coin roll
+into a rut at the side of the road. Alighting, he pressed his
+foot on it, so that it was covered with earth. Then, calling to
+the others, who, unconscious of what had happened, were
+pedalling away in front, he gave first aid to the injured. The
+master had fallen heavily on his side. He had sprained something
+which made it difficult for him to move. A vehicle was fetched,
+which bore him back to school, recovery having first been made
+of the coins which had been dropped. It was only later he
+discovered that a sovereign was missing. The following day a
+search-party went out to look for it, of which Rodney Elmore was
+a member. They found nothing. As they were starting back Rodney
+perceived that his saddle had worked loose. He stayed behind to
+tighten it. When he spurted after the others the sovereign was
+in his pocket. Mr. Griffiths was reputed to be poor. It was
+Elmore who suggested that a subscription should be started to
+reimburse him for his loss. When Mr. Griffiths heard of the
+suggestion--while he laughingly declined to avail himself of the
+boy's generosity--he took Elmore's hand in a friendly grip. Then
+he asked the lad if he would oblige him by going on an errand to
+the village. While he was on the errand Rodney changed the
+sovereign, which he would have found it difficult to do in the
+school.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At the end of the summer term in his last year Elmore was
+invited by a schoolboy friend named Austin to spend part of the
+holidays with him in a wherry on the Broads. Mrs. Elmore told
+him that she would pay his fare and give him, besides, a small
+specified sum which she said would be sufficient for necessary
+expenses. Her ideas on that latter point were not those of her
+son. Rodney's notions on such subjects were always liberal. Good
+at books and games, he was one of the most popular boys in the
+school. Among other things, he was captain of cricket. At the
+last match of the season he played even unusually well, carrying
+his bat through the innings with nearly two hundred runs to his
+credit, having given one of the finest displays of hard hitting
+and good placing the school had ever seen. He was the hero of
+the day; owing to his efforts his side had won. Flushed with
+victory, with the plaudits of his admirers still ringing in his
+ears, he strolled along a corridor, cricket-bag in hand. He
+passed a room, the door of which was open. A room with an open
+door was apt to have a fatal fascination for Rodney Elmore; if
+opportunity offered, he could seldom refrain from peeping in. He
+peeped in then. On a table was a canvas bag, tied with a string.
+He recognised it as the bag which contained the tuck-shop
+takings. Since the tuck-shop had had a busy day, the probability
+was that the bag held quite a considerable sum. He had been
+wondering where the money was coming from to enable him to cut a
+becoming figure during his visit to Austin. Stepping quickly
+into the room, he emptied the canvas bag into his cricket-bag;
+then, going out again as quickly as he had entered, he continued
+his progress.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was on his way to one of the masters, named Rumsey, who
+edited the school magazine, his object being to hand him a
+corrected proof of certain matter which was to appear in the
+forthcoming issue. He took the proof out of his cricket-bag,
+which he opened in the master's presence. Having stayed to have
+a chat, he returned with Mr. Rumsey along the corridor. As they
+went they saw one of the school pages come hurriedly out of the
+room in which, as Rodney was aware, there was an empty canvas
+bag. Mr. Rumsey commented on the speed at which the youth was
+travelling.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Isn't that young Wheeler? He seems in a hurry. I wish he would
+always move as fast.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps he's tearing off on an errand for Mr. Taylor.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As he said this Rodney carelessly swung his cricket-bag, being
+well aware that the coins within were so mixed up with his
+sweater, pads, gloves, and other accessories that they were not
+likely to make their presence audible. At the end of the
+corridor they encountered Mr. Taylor himself. Mark Taylor was
+fourth form master and manager of the tuck-shop. Nodding, he
+went quickly on. Mr. Rumsey was going one way, Rodney the other.
+They lingered at the corner to exchange a few parting words.
+Suddenly Mr. Taylor's voice came towards them down the corridor.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rumsey! Elmore! Who's been in my room?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Been in your room?&quot; echoed Mr. Rumsey. &quot;How should I know?&quot;
+Then added, as if it were the result of a second thought: &quot;We
+just saw Wheeler come out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Wheeler?&quot; In his turn, Mr. Taylor played the part of echo. &quot;He
+just came rushing past me; I wondered what his haste meant. You
+saw him come out of my room? Then---- But he can't have done a
+thing like that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Like what? Anything wrong?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There seems to be something very much wrong. Do you mind coming
+here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Retracing their steps, Mr. Rumsey and Elmore joined the agitated
+Mr. Taylor in his room. He made clear to them the cause of his
+agitation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You see this bag? It contained to-day's tuck-shop takings--more
+than ten pounds. I left it, with the money tied up in it, on the
+table here while I went to Perrin to fetch a memorandum I'd
+forgotten. Now that I've returned, I find the bag lying on my
+table empty and the money apparently gone. That's what's wrong,
+and the question is, who has been in my room since I left it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As I told you, Elmore and I just saw Wheeler making his exit
+rather as if he were pressed for time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And I myself just met him scurrying along, and wondered what
+the haste was about; he's not, as a general rule, the fastest of
+the pages. The boy has a bad record; there was that story about
+Burge minor and his journey money, and there have been other
+tales. If he was in my room----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps he was sent on an errand to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I doubt it, from the way he was running when I met him. And, so
+far from stopping when he saw me, if anything, he went faster
+than ever. It looks very much as if----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He stopped, leaving the sentence ominously unfinished.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Master Wheeler may be a young rip, but surely he wouldn't do a
+thing like that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was Rodney, who notoriously never spoke ill of anyone. Mr.
+Taylor touched on his well-known propensity.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's all very well, Elmore; but you'd try to find an excuse
+for a man who snatched the coat off your back. This is a very
+serious matter; ten pounds are ten pounds. The best thing is for
+you to bring Wheeler here, and we'll have it out with him at
+once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney started off to fetch the page. It was some little time
+before he returned. When he did he was without his cricket-bag,
+and gripped the obviously unwilling page tightly by the
+shoulder. That the lad's mind was very far from being at ease
+Mr. Taylor's questions quickly made plain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Wheeler, Mr. Rumsey and Mr. Elmore just saw you coming out of
+my room. What were you doing here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Wheeler, looking everywhere but at his questioner, hesitated;
+then stammered out a lame reply.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I was looking for you, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;For me? What did you want with me? Why did you not say you
+wanted me when you met me just now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Wheeler could not explain; he was tongue-tied. Mr. Taylor went
+on:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When I went I left this bag on the table full of money. As you
+were the only person who entered the room during my absence, I
+want you to tell me how the bag came to be empty when I
+returned?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The bag was empty when I came in here,&quot; blurted out Wheeler. &quot;I
+particularly noticed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">To that tale he stuck--that the bag was empty when he entered
+the room. His was a lame story. It seemed clear that he had gone
+into the room with intentions which were not all that they might
+have been--possibly meaning to pilfer from the bag, which he
+knew was there. The discovery that the bag was empty had come
+upon him with a shock; he had fled. As was not altogether
+unnatural, his story was not believed. The two masters accused
+him point-blank of having emptied the bag himself. A formal
+charge of theft would have been made against him had it not been
+for his tender years, also partly because of the resultant
+scandal, perhaps still more because not a farthing of the money
+was ever traced to his possession, or, indeed, to anyone else's.
+What had become of it was never made clear. Wheeler, however,
+was dismissed from his employment with a stain upon his
+character which he would find it hard to erase.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney Elmore had an excellent time upon the Broads, towards
+which the tuck-shop takings, in a measure, contributed. The
+Austins, who were well-to-do people, had a first-rate wherry; on
+it was a lively party. There were two girls--Stella Austin, Tom
+Austin's sister, and a friend of hers, Mary Carmichael. Elmore,
+who was nearly nineteen, had already had more than one passage
+with persons of the opposite sex. He had a curious facility in
+gaining the good graces of feminine creatures of all kinds and
+all ages. When he went he left Stella Austin under the
+impression that he cared for her very much indeed; while,
+although conscious that Tom Austin, believing himself to be in
+love with Mary Carmichael, regarded her as his own property, he
+was aware that the young lady liked him--Rodney Elmore--in a
+sense of which his friend had not the vaguest notion. Altogether
+his visit to the Austins was an entire success; he had won for
+himself a niche in everyone's esteem before they parted.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When he was twenty Rodney Elmore entered an uncle's office in
+St. Paul's Churchyard. Soon after he was twenty-one his mother
+died. On her deathbed she showed an anxiety for his future
+which, under other circumstances, he would have found almost
+amusing.
+&quot;Rodney,&quot; she implored him, &quot;my son, my dear, dear boy, promise
+me that you will keep honest; that, under no pressure of
+circumstances, you will stray one hair's breadth from the path
+of honesty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This, in substance, though in varying forms, was the petition
+which she made to him again and again, in tones which, as the
+days, and even the hours, went by, grew fainter and fainter. He
+did his best to give her the assurance she required, smilingly
+at first, more seriously when he perceived how much she was in
+earnest.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mother, darling,&quot; he told her, &quot;I promise that I'll keep as
+straight as a man can keep. I'll never do anything for which you
+could be ashamed of me. Have you ever been ashamed of me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, dear, never. You've always been the best, cleverest,
+truest, most affectionate son a woman could have. Never once
+have you given me a moment's anxiety. God keep you as you have
+always been--above all, God keep you honest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mother,&quot; he said in earnest tones, which had nearly sunk to a
+whisper, &quot;God helping me, and He will help me, I swear to you
+that I will never do a dishonest thing, never! Nor a thing that
+is in the region of dishonesty. Don't you believe me, darling?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course, dear, I believe you--I do! I do!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was with some such words on her lips that she died; yet, even
+as she uttered them, he had a feeling that there was a look in
+her eyes which suggested both fear and doubt. In the midst of
+his heart-broken grief the fact that there should have been such
+a look struck him as good.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_02" href="#div1Ref_02">HIS UNCLE AND HIS COUSIN</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">Mrs. Elmore's income died with her. She had sunk her money in an
+annuity because, as she had explained to Rodney, that enabled
+her to give him a much better education than she could have done
+had they been constrained to live on the interest produced by
+her slender capital. But her son was not left penniless. She had
+bought him an annuity, to commence when he was twenty-one, of
+thirty shillings a week, to be paid weekly, and had tied it up
+in such a way that he could neither forestall it nor use it as a
+security on which to borrow money. As clerk to his uncle he
+received one hundred pounds a year. Feeling that he could no
+longer reside in Uffham, he sold the house, which was his
+mother's freehold, and its contents, the sale producing quite a
+comfortable sum. So, on the whole, he was not so badly off as
+some young men.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On the contra side he had expensive tastes, practically in every
+direction. Among other things, he had a partiality for feminine
+society, mostly of the reputable sort; but a young man is apt to
+find the society of even a nice girl an expensive luxury. For
+instance, Mary Carmichael had a voice. Her fond parents, who
+lived in the country, suffered her to live in town while she was
+taking singing lessons. Tom Austin, although still an
+undergraduate at Oxford, made no secret of his feelings for the
+maiden, a fact which did not prevent Mary going out now and then
+with Rodney Elmore to dinner at a restaurant, and, afterwards,
+to a theatre, as, nowadays, young men and maidens do. On these
+occasions Rodney paid, and where the evening's entertainment of
+a modern maiden is concerned a five-pound note does not go far.
+Then, although Miss Carmichael might not have been aware of it,
+there were others. Among them Stella Austin, who had reasons of
+her own for believing that Mr. Elmore would give the world to
+make her his wife, being only kept from avowing his feelings by
+the fact that he was, to all intents and purposes, a pauper.
+Since she was the possessor of three or four hundred a year of
+her own, with the prospect of much more, she tried more than
+once to hint that, since she would not mind setting up
+housekeeping on quite a small income, there was no reason why
+they should wait an indefinite period, till Rodney was a
+millionaire. But Rodney's delicacy was superfine. While he
+commended her attitude with an ardour which made the blood grow
+hot in her veins, he explained that he was one of those men who
+would not ask a girl to marry him unless he was in a position to
+keep her in the style a husband should, adding that that time
+was not so distant as some people might think. In another twelve
+months he hoped--well, he hoped! As at such moments she was apt
+to be very close to him, Stella hoped too.
+The young gentleman was living at the rate of at least five or
+six hundred a year on an income of a hundred and eighty. He did
+not bother himself by keeping books, but he quite realised that
+his expenditure bore no relation to his actual income. Of
+course, he owed money; but he did not like owing money. It was
+against his principles. He never borrowed if he could help it,
+and he objected to being at the mercy of a tradesman. He
+preferred to get the money somehow, and pay; and, somehow, he
+got it. Very curious methods that &quot;somehow&quot; sometimes covered.
+He was fond of cards; liked to play for all sorts of stakes;
+and, on the whole, he won. His skill in one so young was
+singular; sometimes, when opportunity offered, it was shown in
+directions at which one prefers only to hint. His favourite
+games were bridge, piquet, poker, and baccarat, four games at
+which a skilful player can do strange things, especially when
+playing with unsuspicious young men who have looked upon the
+wine when it was red.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney's dexterity with his fingers was almost uncanny. He could
+do wonderful card tricks, though he never did them in public,
+but only for his own private amusement. When reading &quot;Oliver
+Twist,&quot; he had been tickled by the scene in which Fagin teaches
+his youthful pupils how to pick a pocket. He had made
+experiments of his own in the same direction upon parties who
+were not in the least aware of the experiments he was making.
+His success amused him hugely, while the subjects of his
+experiments never had the dimmest notion as to how or where
+their valuables had gone.
+In very many ways Rodney Elmore obtained sufficient money to
+enable him to keep his credit at a surprisingly high standard.
+Everyone spoke well of him; he was a general favourite. Nor was
+it strange; he looked a likeable fellow--indeed, ninety-nine
+people out of a hundred liked him at first sight. Over six feet
+in height, slightly built, he did not look so strong as he was
+in reality. Straight as an arrow, head held well up, there was
+something almost feminine in the lightness with which he seemed
+to move. Many girls and women had told him to his face that he
+was the best dancer they had ever had for partner. Indeed, in a
+sense, he flattered his partners, having a knack of making a
+girl who danced badly think she danced well. He had light brown
+hair, which seemed as if it had been dusted with golden sand;
+grey eyes, which, with the pleasantest expression, looked you
+right in the face; an Englishman's clear skin; mobile lips,
+which parted on the slightest pretext in a sunny smile; just
+enough moustache to shade his upper lip. Altogether as agreeable
+looking a young gentleman as one might hope to meet. And his
+manners bore out the promise of his appearance. Always cool,
+easy, self-possessed, ready to perform little services for
+women, the aged, the infirm, in a fashion which, so far as our
+present-day young men are concerned, is a little out of date.
+With the pleasantest voice and trick of speech, no chatterer, it
+seemed impossible for him to say a disagreeable or an unkind
+thing either to or of anyone. It was a standing joke among his
+intimates that, when scandal-mongering was in the air, Elmore
+would spoil the fun by pointing out the good qualities of those
+attacked and refusing to see anything else but them. He had ever
+an excuse to offer for the most notorious sinner. It was not
+wonderful that everybody liked him. On his part, he seemed
+incapable of disliking anyone. He might rob his friend of all
+that he had, but he would not regard him as less his friend on
+that account.
+To this rule, so far as he knew, there was only one exception,
+and as time went on this exception surprised him more and more.
+There was only one person who he felt sure disliked him, and why
+he disliked him was beyond his comprehension. This person was
+the uncle in whose office he was a clerk--Graham Patterson. Mr.
+Patterson was Mrs. Elmore's brother. Rodney quite understood
+that his uncle had not offered him the position he held, but had
+only received him at his mother's particular request. There had
+been that in his uncle's manner which had struck him as peculiar
+from the first, as if he were prejudiced against him before they
+met, regarding him with suspicion and dislike. As, for some
+reason which he would have liked to have had explained, he had
+never seen his uncle till he entered his office, his relative's
+attitude struck him as distinctly odd; but, in his light-hearted
+way, he told himself that he would gain his uncle's esteem
+before they had been acquainted long. However, they had been
+acquainted now nearly three years, and he was conscious that his
+uncle esteemed him as little as ever. He wondered why.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Patterson's appearance was against him; he was big and
+bloated. A City merchant of the old school, he was addicted to
+the pleasures of the table and fond--for one of his habit of
+body unduly fond--of what he called a &quot;glass of wine.&quot; He liked
+half a pint of port with his luncheon and a pint for his dinner,
+he being just the kind of person who never ought to have touched
+port at all. Nor, when his health permitted, was his daily
+allowance of stimulants by any means confined to his pint and a
+half of port. The result was that he suffered both in mind and
+body. The &quot;governor's temper&quot; was a byword in the office. When,
+to use his own phrase, he was &quot;a little below par&quot; he would fly
+into such fits of passion about the merest trivialities that
+those about him used to regard his &quot;paddies&quot; as part of the
+daily routine; so soon as he was out of his &quot;paddy&quot; he had
+forgotten all about it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Although his methods were a little old-fashioned, he was still
+an excellent man of business. The staple of his trade was silk,
+but latterly he had added other lines. In these days of shoddy
+the quality of his goods was above suspicion; he did a
+remunerative trade in everything he touched. In the trade no
+man's commercial integrity stood higher than Graham Patterson's;
+whoever dealt with him could be sure that everything would be
+all right. His books showed every year a comfortable turnover at
+fair rates of profit. There were those in his employ who were of
+opinion that if only a younger and more pushing man could have a
+voice in the management of affairs, the business might rapidly
+become one of the finest in the city of London.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney Elmore had not been long in his uncle's office before
+this opinion became emphatically his. He was conscious of
+commercial abilities of the most unusual kind, and was convinced
+that if he could only get a chance he would double both the
+turnover and the profits in so short a space of time that his
+uncle could not fail to be gratified. Since he was the nephew of
+his uncle, and, indeed, his only male relative, he did not see
+why he should not have a chance. When he first went to St.
+Paul's Churchyard he had hopes, but these hopes had grown
+dimmer. His perceptions on such matters were keen; few persons,
+no matter what their age, could see farther into a brick wall
+than he. He felt certain that his uncle only kept him at all
+because Mrs. Elmore had wrung from him a promise that he should
+have a place, of sorts, in his office. So far from having an eye
+to his nephew's advancement, it seemed to Rodney that his uncle
+even went out of his way to let him have as little as possible
+to do with the conduct of his business. It was true that he had
+a room for his separate use, and, though it was but a tiny one,
+on this foundation, at the beginning, he built much. But before
+long he understood that what he had reared were castles in the
+air. It seemed to Rodney before long that it must have been Mr.
+Patterson's intention to keep him apart from the others in order
+that he might know nothing of what was going on. His own work
+was of the simplest clerical kind; occasionally he was sent on
+an errand of no importance. He seemed free to come when he
+liked, and leave when he chose; nobody appeared to care what he
+did, or left undone. For these onerous labours he had been paid
+the first year eighty pounds, the second a hundred, then a
+hundred and twenty; now, after three years, he wondered what was
+going to happen next. Obviously an office boy could do what he
+had to do for five shillings a week.
+Under the circumstances, the fact that he had acquired such an
+insight into the ins and outs, the pros and cons, of his uncle's
+business transactions spoke volumes for his keenness and acumen.
+He often smiled to himself as he pictured the expression which
+would come on his uncle's rubicund countenance if he guessed
+what an intimate knowledge his office boy had of his affairs.
+Rodney was perfectly aware that the expression would not be one
+of pleasure; that his knowledge would not be regarded as the
+fruit of promising zeal, but as something which could only be
+adequately described by a flood of uncomplimentary adjectives.
+What was at the back of Graham Patterson's mind the young man,
+with all his shrewdness, had still no notion. He was one of the
+few men he had met who puzzled him. But of this much he was
+clear--that, while for his sister's sake Mr. Patterson was
+willing that his nephew should have a seat in his office, the
+less active interest the young man took in the duties he was,
+presumably, paid to perform the better pleased his employer
+would be. Elmore was of a hopeful disposition, willing to
+persevere if he saw even a remote chance of ultimate gain. But
+so convinced was he that his uncle, if he could help it, would
+never, on his own initiative, advance him to a position of trust
+that, before this, he would have cast about for a chance of
+improving his prospects--had it not been for a young lady.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had already been more than two years in his uncle's
+employment, and was meditating leaving it at a very early date,
+when one afternoon, Mr. Patterson being out, he heard an unknown
+feminine voice speaking in the outer office, and unexpectedly
+the door of his own den was opened, and someone entered--a girl.
+Slipping the papers he was assiduously studying into his desk
+with lightning-like rapidity, he rose to greet her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you Rodney Elmore?&quot; He smilingly owned that he was. &quot;Then
+you're my cousin. How are you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His cousin? He did not know that he had such a relative in the
+world. She held out her hand. Almost before he knew it he had it
+in his; whether willingly or not, she left it in his quite an
+appreciable space of time. He admitted his ignorance.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I didn't know I had such a delightful thing as a cousin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Isn't that queer? I didn't till the other day. I'm Gladys
+Patterson; your uncle's my father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For once in his life Rodney was taken by surprise. His
+researches into his uncle's affairs had been confined to their
+commercial side. He knew practically nothing of his private
+life. He had never heard it spoken of, and had asked no
+questions. He had a vague idea that his uncle was a bachelor. He
+knew that he lived in rooms, and--accidentally--had learnt that
+he had relations with certain ladies of a kind which one does
+not associate with a family man. That he had ever had a wife
+and, still less, a daughter he had never guessed. Even in the
+midst of his surprise he reproached himself for his stupidity
+that such an important point should have escaped him! As he
+regarded the girl in front of him he perceived that she was her
+father's child.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She was about his height, he being short and fat. One day, if
+appearances were not misleading, she also would be plump.
+Already she had something of her father's rubicund countenance;
+her cheeks were red, even a trifle blotchy. She had dark hair
+and eyes, both her mouth and nose were a little too big. Yet he
+did not find her disagreeable to look at. On the contrary, there
+was something about her which appealed to him, just as he was
+conscious that there was something about him which appealed to
+her. Where a girl was concerned it was strange how some subtle
+instinct told him these things. He was moved to audacity.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you're my cousin, oughtn't I to kiss you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her eyes lit up. Her lips parted, showing her beautiful teeth;
+if they were a little large, they were very white and even.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As I've had no experience of cousins, how can I say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't like you to feel that I'm beginning by evading
+what, for aught either of us can tell, might be my duty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Stooping, he kissed her on the mouth. Though it was little more
+than a butterfly's kiss, her lips seemed to meet his with a
+gentle pressure which he found agreeable.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are a cousin!&quot; she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm glad you are,&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Didn't you really know you had a cousin?&quot; He shook his head.
+&quot;Nor I; isn't it queer? I only found it out the other day by the
+merest accident; in some respects dad is the most secretive
+person. I've been abroad for the last five years. How old do you
+think I am?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a frankness, a friendliness about this cousin which
+amused him. In that sense she could not have been more unlike
+her sire.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Twenty-two.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm twenty-five--isn't it awful? How old are you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I regret to say that I am only twenty-three. I'm afraid you'll
+regard me as only a kid.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Shall I? I don't think I shall. You don't look as if you were
+'only a kid.' I've been what papa calls 'finishing my
+education.' Fancy! at my time of life! If my mother had been
+living I shouldn't have stood it; but, as you know, she died
+when I was only a tiny tot; and I knew dad--so I lay,
+comparatively, low. I've been living here and there and
+everywhere with the queerest duennas, though they really have
+been dears; and now and then I have had a good time, though I've
+had some frightfully dull ones. But at last I have struck. You
+know we've got a house in Russell Square?&quot; Again he shook his
+head. &quot;What do you know?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So far as you are concerned--nothing. I know that I'm clerk to
+my uncle, and that's all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, we have got a house in Russell Square. It's been shut up
+all these years--papa's been living in rooms. But I've made him
+refurbish it, and he's made it really nice--when he does
+undertake to do a thing he does it well--and I'm installed in it
+as mistress. Of course, I know Russell Square's out of the way,
+but they are good houses, and, if I can only manage dad, I'm
+going to have a real good time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did he tell you about me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not he. Don't I tell you that I only discovered your existence
+by the merest accident? Do you remember a boy named Henderson
+who was at school with you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Alfred Henderson--very well; we moved together from form to
+form.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I know his sister Cissie; we were at school together, years
+ago, and she knows you. She told me the other day that you were
+in your uncle's office in St. Paul's Churchyard, and that his
+name was Graham Patterson, and was he any relation of mine. I
+nearly had a fit. When dad came home I bombarded him with
+questions---- What have you done to offend him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing of which I'm conscious. Ever since I've been in the
+office I've been aware that he dislikes me, though I assure you
+that I've done my best to please him and give him no cause of
+complaint.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, he does not like you, and that's a fact. He as good as
+forbade me to make your acquaintance; but, as he wouldn't give
+any reasons, I decided to find out for myself what sort of
+person you were, and--then be guided by circumstances. The truth
+is, I've had enough of obeying dad, and that's another fact. If
+I'm not careful I shall end my days in a convent, and the
+conventual life has not the slightest attraction for me. I've
+got a will of my own, and when a girl is twenty-five it's about
+time that she should let such a very unreasonable parent as mine
+seems to be know it. I'm sure Cissie Henderson is a girl who
+knows what she is talking about, and as she said all sorts of
+nice things about you, and nothing else but nice things, I made
+up my mind that, since I had a cousin, I'd find out for myself
+what kind of cousin my cousin was. There is dad. Now you see how
+I manage him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A heavy step and a loud voice were heard without; then the door
+was thrown back upon its hinges.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gladys! What does this mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've come to see my cousin, dad, as I told you I should do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come into my room.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Directly, dad. I want Rodney to come and dine with us
+to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her father perceptibly winced at his daughter's use of the
+Christian name.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To-night? Impossible! I'm engaged.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you? Then in that case he can come and keep me company
+while you are out. We ought to have heaps of things to say to
+each other. Do you mind?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The question was put to Elmore. Mr. Patterson glared.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gladys, I want you to come with me to the theatre to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear dad, this is the first time I've heard of it--and, if
+you don't mind, I'd much rather not. One can go to the theatre
+any night, but one can't discover that one has a cousin, and
+meet him for the first time, every day. I'd much rather Rodney
+would come to dine. Won't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again the question was put to Elmore.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'd be very glad to come--with Mr. Patterson's permission.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You hear, dad? He'll come, with your permission. Nothing would
+please you more than that he should come, would it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The father looked into the daughter's eyes, seeming to see
+something in them which kept him from uttering words which were
+at the tip of his tongue. He spoke gruffly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps he has an engagement.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not any.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And if you had, you'd throw it over to dine with us, wouldn't
+you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I certainly would.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You see, papa, what a compliment he pays you. Come, since it
+seems that he doesn't regard my invitation as sufficient, will
+you please ask him to dine with us to-night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again the father eyed his daughter. The observant youth, as he
+glanced from one to the other, was struck by the unmistakable
+evidence that this young woman was her father's child. He did
+not doubt that she had more than a touch of the paternal temper.
+He saw that Mr. Patterson, fearful of an exhibition of it then
+and there, as the lesser of two evils, yielded, not gracefully.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He can come if he likes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, papa. You haven't a very pretty way--has he?--but as
+my invitation couldn't possibly be warmer, I'm sure you'll
+regard dad's endorsement as more than sufficient. So you will
+come?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shall be only too delighted.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now, then, Gladys, come to my room. I want to speak to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Coming, dad. Remember, Rodney, our address is 90, Russell
+Square, and we dine at eight; but if you come any time after
+half-past seven you'll find me ready. You can't think how dad
+and I will look forward to your coming.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_03" href="#div1Ref_03">RODNEY ELMORE THE FIRST</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">That was a curious dinner party. Elmore quite expected that when
+he had rid himself of his daughter his uncle would come and tell
+him that he was not to regard the invitation as having been
+seriously intended, and that he was not to present himself in
+Russell Square. But nothing of the sort occurred. He saw and
+heard no more of Mr. Patterson until he quitted the office, and
+just before a quarter to eight he entered the drawing-room at
+No. 90. Miss Patterson, who was its sole occupant, rose as he
+entered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's very good of you,&quot; she said, while she continued to allow
+her hand to remain in his, &quot;to take the hint, and come early.
+Dad never shows till dinner's served, so that I shall have a
+chance of finding out before he comes what is the meaning of the
+extraordinary attitude he is taking up towards you. He simply
+poses as the father who has got to be obeyed, and as that sort
+of thing appears to be ridiculous, as I ventured to tell him, I
+expect you to tell me all about it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He told her all he had to tell, which was very little, in such
+fashion that inside fifteen minutes they were on terms almost of
+intimacy. He was one of those men who have a natural attraction
+for contrasting types of women; emphatically for that type of
+which Gladys Patterson was an example. The master of the house
+did not enter till dinner was served, and by the time they were
+seated at table Elmore was already aware that his cousin offered
+a pleasant and promising field for such experiments as he might
+choose to devise.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Conversation was almost entirely confined to the two younger
+members of the party, the initiative being taken by Gladys,
+Elmore acting as a sort of chorus. The meal was of the solid,
+plentiful, well-cooked order, which one felt would appeal to the
+host. Beyond replying shortly to an occasional inquiry addressed
+to him by his daughter, Mr. Patterson's whole attention was
+given to his food, and wine. When dessert was on the table his
+daughter asked him:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Going out to-night, dad--as usual?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; he responded briefly, &quot;I'm not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The young woman looked at her cousin with a twinkle in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Dad follows the good old-fashioned custom of sitting over his
+wine. He thinks that a glass of port gives a proper finish to a
+meal. If you don't think so you can come into the drawing-room
+with me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He'll stay here,&quot; observed the sire succinctly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But the damsel was equal to the occasion.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very well, dad; then I'll stay too. And since this table really
+is too big for three, I think, Rodney, it would be more comfy if
+I were to bring my chair closer to yours. Are you fond of the
+theatre?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Having brought her chair to within a foot of Elmore's she
+entered with him into an animated discussion on the subject of
+favourite plays and players, while the host, practically
+speechless, sat at the head of his board drinking more port than
+was good for him. Elmore, who could be abstemious enough when he
+liked, had followed his cousin's lead, and drank nothing but
+mineral water. At last the young lady used his self-denial as a
+pivot to gain her own ends.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Really, dad, as Rodney won't join you in drinking, it's absurd
+our stopping here, especially as I want some music, so please,
+sir, will you come with me at once into the drawing-room?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Before the slow-witted host, whose brains had not been rendered
+more active by his libations, had awoke to the meaning of his
+daughter's proposition, she had borne the guest with her from
+the room. They were alone together in the drawing-room for more
+than half an hour. If the music of which Gladys had spoken
+was not much in evidence, their acquaintance moved at a rate
+which was only possible in the case of a young man who was
+willing--nay, eager--to take advantage of the peculiarities of a
+young woman's temperament. So that when his uncle did appear,
+with eyes a little dulled and feet a little unsteady, Rodney was
+quite ready to make his adieux and his cousin to excuse him.
+The acquaintance, thus commenced, not only continued, but
+advanced by leaps and bounds. Mr. Patterson's habits being those
+of a bachelor of a not too strait-laced kind rather than those
+of a family man, he did not find his daughter's society so
+congenial and satisfying as he might have done. Being desirous
+of doing as he liked, he left her with more freedom than he
+himself was perhaps aware of. She would even have not been
+without justification had she chosen to regard herself as
+neglected. But for what seemed to her to be sufficient reasons,
+she was content that her parent should amuse himself as he
+liked, though his doing so resulted in his practically
+overlooking her altogether.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney Elmore never went again to the house in Russell Square as
+his uncle's guest, but he went there more than once as his
+daughter's, and that sometimes at hours and under circumstances
+which were, to say the least, unconventional. More frequently
+their meetings were not in the neighbourhood of Bloomsbury. Mr.
+Patterson had a fondness for week-ending, without informing his
+daughter with whom he spent his time or where. It was not
+strange if, during such absences, his daughter did her best to
+avoid being too much alone. More than one such Sunday she and
+Rodney spent together from quite an early hour to quite a late
+one. Before long they were on terms which certainly could not
+have been more intimate had they been an engaged couple. But
+they were not, on that point they supposed that they understood
+each other thoroughly. Gladys had less than two hundred a year
+of her own, left her by her mother; and Rodney was pretty sure
+that if she married him her means would not be materially
+increased for many a day to come--if ever. He was by no means
+sure that he cared for her enough to marry her if all he got
+with her in marriage was her person; no one could be clearer
+than he was that she would not make the sort of wife who would
+be likely to be in any way whatever of assistance to a
+struggling husband. Her attitude was almost equally practical.
+That she liked him much more than he liked her was sure; there
+was hardly anything he could ask of her which she would not be
+willing to give. She believed in him much more than he believed
+in her; in her eyes he was nearly a hero. But, not being quite
+blind, she realised that, as things were, marriage for them was
+out of the question. She knew her father, and was aware that
+while up to a certain point she could do with him as she liked,
+if on a matter of capital importance he bade her not to do such
+and such a thing, and she did it, he would cut her as completely
+out of his life as if she had not been in it, and never miss
+her. She was conscious that she was as unfitted for love in a
+cottage as Elmore was; was, perhaps, even dimly alive to the
+fact that in such a position her plight would be worse than
+his was. So that their association was based on that quite
+up-to-date article of faith which sets forth that though a young
+man and a young woman can never be husband and wife, they may
+still be &quot;pals.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Elmore's position in the office was not improved by the incident
+of his having been a guest in Russell Square. Though his uncle
+never spoke to him upon the subject--nor, indeed, if he could
+help it, on any other--his nephew's acute perception realised
+that he had not grown to like him any more. As time went on a
+doubt began to grow up within him as to whether his uncle had
+not some inkling of the relations which existed between him and
+his daughter. That his doubt was well founded he was ultimately
+to learn. One morning, soon after his uncle's arrival, a request
+came to him to go to him at once in his room. When he went in he
+was struck, not by any means for the first time, by certain
+points about his uncle's appearance. He felt convinced that his
+relative's was not, from the insurance point of view, a good
+life. Rodney Elmore knew little of medicine, yet he hazarded a
+private opinion that Graham Patterson was a promising subject
+for an apoplectic stroke--the kind of man who, at any moment of
+undue stress, might have cerebral trouble from which he might
+not find it easy to recover. He caught himself wondering whether
+if, by any mischance, his uncle became the victim of such a
+catastrophe, it might not be worth his while to marry his
+cousin, if, indeed, that would not be the lady's own point of
+view. Were Graham Patterson to have such a stroke, it was at
+least within the range of possibility that he might never again
+be in a condition to manage his own affairs; in which case who
+would be so likely to be appointed administrator as the husband
+of his only child?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">While such gruesome imaginings occupied his mind, the subject of
+them continued to regard him with a stolid silence which at last
+struck him as singular.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I was told, sir, that you wished to speak to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He said this with the little air of pleasant deference of which
+he was such a master and which became him so well. His uncle
+still said nothing, but continued to glare at him with his
+bloodshot eyes as if he were some strange object in an
+exhibition. He really looked so odd that Rodney began to wonder
+if that stroke was already in the air. He tried again to move
+him to speech.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I trust, sir, that nothing disagreeable has happened.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Yet some seconds passed before his uncle did speak. When he did
+it was with a hard sort of ferocity which his listener felt
+accorded well with the singularity of his appearance.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You took my daughter to the Palace Theatre last night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney wondered from whom he had learned the fact, being
+convinced that it was not from his daughter. However, since he
+could scarcely ask, he tried another line, one which he was
+conscious went close to the verge of insolence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I hope, sir, that the Palace is not a theatre to which you
+object. Just now it has one of the best entertainments in
+London.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Only in a very narrow sense could his uncle's response be
+regarded as a reply to his words.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're an infernal young scoundrel!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney did not attempt to feign resentment he did not feel. His
+quickly-moving wits told him that he was at last brought face to
+face with a position which he had for some time foreseen, and
+that for him the best attitude would probably be one of modest
+humility--at least, to begin with.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't think, sir, you are entitled to use such language to me
+on such slight grounds.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you? You--you--beauty!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Obviously Mr. Patterson had substituted a different word for the
+one he had intended to use. Taking a slip of paper out of the
+drawer of the writing-table at which he was seated, he held it
+out towards Rodney.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You see that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know what it is?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It appears to be a cheque.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know what cheque it is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you will allow me to examine it more closely I shall perhaps
+be able to say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can examine it as closely as you please so long as it is in
+my hands. I wouldn't trust it in your hands for a good deal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why do you say that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You impudent young blackguard!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And that, sir?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say it, you brazen young hypocrite, because that cheque
+happens to be a forgery, and you are the man who forged it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Sir! I know that you are used to allow yourself a large license
+in the way of language, but this time, although you are my
+uncle, you go too far.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I intend to go much farther before I've done--and don't you
+throw the fact that I'm your uncle in my face, the most decent
+men have blackguards for relatives. This cheque was originally
+made out for eight pounds. I told you to ask young Metcalf to
+get cash for it. Between this room and Metcalf's desk you
+altered it to eighty pounds. It was easily done--especially by
+an expert like you. He brought you eighty pounds; you gave me
+eight, and kept seventy-two. You were aware that Metcalf was
+leaving the office that day to join his brother in Canada; you
+calculated that probably before the thing was discovered he
+would be on the high seas, and that, therefore, since everyone
+knew how much he was in want of cash, I should lay the guilt at
+his door--you dirty cur! But I didn't, never for one instant;
+the instant I saw the cheque I recognised your hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You recognised my hand? What do you mean by that, sir?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Patterson took something else out of his writing-table
+drawer, which, this time, he handed to his nephew.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Look at that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was a portrait--the photograph of a man in the early prime of
+life.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you think it might be yours?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney felt that, allowing for the changes made by a few
+superimposed years, the resemblance to himself was striking, so
+striking that it was startling. The eyes looked at him out of
+the portrait with an expression which he recognised as so like
+his own that it bewildered him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's the portrait of your father. You don't remember him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not at all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I knew him all his life. You are so like what he was at your
+age that more than once when I have looked at you I have had an
+uncomfortable feeling that he had come back again to haunt me.
+Never was son more like his father, in all things.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney winced, scarcely knowing why. His uncle went on.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your mother never spoke to you of him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;She had what she supposed to be sufficient reasons for her
+reticence; she wished to hide from you, if possible, the
+knowledge of what manner of man your father was, thinking that
+the knowledge of the heritage of shame which he had left behind
+might drive you to walk in his footsteps. I was of a different
+opinion. I held that if you had in you any of the makings of a
+decent man, the knowledge of the sort of man your father was
+would serve you as a warning to keep off the path he'd followed.
+However, you were your mother's child, not mine, thank God; she
+had her way, though I warned her that the time would probably
+come when I should have to tell you the story she would rather
+have bitten off her tongue than tell.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Patterson paused, keeping his eyes fixed on the young man in
+front of him. There was a quality in his gaze which made Rodney
+conscious of a sense of discomfort to which he had been hitherto
+a stranger.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are so like your father that you even have his Christian
+name. Rodney Elmore the first was one of those creatures who
+sometimes come into the world, who could not run straight if
+they tried--and they never try. He was one of Nature's thieves;
+a born scamp; a lifelong blackguard. Your mother was my only
+sister; the only relative I had. I did not understand him so
+well before she married him as I did afterwards, but I
+understood him well enough to have kept her from marrying him if
+I could. But he was one of those hounds who, if they cannot get
+what they want by fair means, will not hesitate to get it by
+foul; he even won his wife by foul means, taking advantage of
+her girlish innocence so that she had to become his wife to save
+her good name. She lived for six years with him in hell. Then he
+was detected in a series of frauds which would probably have
+resulted in his being sent to penal servitude for life. Rather
+than face the music, he committed suicide.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again Mr. Patterson paused, and his nephew, on his side, kept
+still. It seemed to him that his uncle's voice was the voice of
+doom; he was aware of a sensation of actual physical pain as he
+listened, as if sentence had not only been pronounced, but
+punishment also begun. He had wondered vaguely more than once
+what manner of man his father was, and, since she had
+volunteered no information, had put questions on the subject to
+his mother. But she had staved them off in a fashion which
+suggested--since even in the days of his boyhood his mental
+processes were sufficiently acute--that there was not much to be
+told about him which redounded to his credit. So, as years
+brought wisdom, his curiosity became less and less; a feeling
+grew up in his bosom that perhaps the less he knew about his
+father the better it might be. Never, however, had his most
+pessimistic imaginings come near the reality as portrayed by his
+uncle. He, the son of a lifelong rogue, who had only escaped the
+penalty of his misdeeds by self-destruction! He began to
+apprehend the meaning of the attitude his uncle had taken up
+towards him. His uncle did his best to assist him to a clearer
+comprehension.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I never would have anything to do with you. I had suffered too
+much from your father to be willing by any overt act to
+acknowledge your existence, especially as a relative of mine. I
+resented your existence. I am not more superstitious than the
+average man, but I had a strong conviction that with you it
+would be a case of like father like son. The paternal qualities
+were too strong, too ingrained, too much the very essence of his
+being not to be transmitted. When your mother came and begged me
+to take you into my office I asked her point-blank if you were
+not your father's son. She denied it. I believed then that she
+lied; now I know it. I have no doubt that she had detected you
+over and over again in acts which recalled your father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney wondered if that really was the case. She had never
+hinted anything of the sort to him. He understood now why, with
+her dying breath, she had entreated him to be honest. Did she
+realise at the very portals of death what a broken reed his
+promise was? He shivered at the thought.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So soon as you came into this office I knew that I had been
+right, and that you were every inch your father's son. You are
+clever; don't suppose that I don't appreciate the fact. I am not
+so clever, which fact you have taken rather too much for
+granted. You have overlooked one quality I have, and that is--a
+nose for a thief. I owe to it a good deal of such success as I
+have had--in a sense, I can smell a thief so soon as he comes
+near me. Of course, in your case I had your father's record to
+help me; but I think that, without it, I should have scented
+you, your odour was so pungent. You had not been in the place a
+month before you began to play your little tricks. I do not
+flatter myself that I found you out in all of them, but I did in
+a good many. I said nothing, but I made a note of each, and have
+the complete record in a certain volume which will possibly be
+produced one day in a court of assize. Then there came the
+incident of the cheque--the eight pounds which you turned into
+eighty. When I saw that cheque I realised that immunity had
+given you courage, and that you were beginning to fly at higher
+game. I am, as I believe you and other gentlemen in the office
+are aware, a regular old fogey, a dray-horse sort of man. I
+never, if I can help it, arrive at a hasty decision. I put that
+cheque aside and waited; you see, although you live to the age
+of Methuselah, a thing like this is always up against you--you
+can never get away from it. I was in no hurry.&quot;
+Again Mr. Patterson paused. Leaning back in his chair, he
+smiled. Rodney told himself that he resembled an ogre who was
+enjoying, in anticipation, the meal he proposed to make of him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;After all, my lad, although you are so clever, you're a
+fool--indeed, your cleverness is folly. If you had to be
+dishonest, hadn't you sense enough to gratify your instincts on
+less dangerous lines? You have made a serious mistake in
+underrating me; perhaps that's because your experience of men is
+small. I've been watching you; you've been living in a fool's
+paradise--your conscience has never pinched you because you have
+never feared discovery. Yet, if you had troubled yourself to
+think, you must have known that, sooner or later, discovery was
+bound to come, and that, when it did, I had you. You were a
+fool, my lad, a fool.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The speaker's smile grew more pronounced. To his nephew's
+thinking it became more and more like an ogre's grin. But when
+he went on it not only vanished, but its place was taken by
+something which was unpleasantly like a snarl.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then my daughter came on the scene. There, again, you were at
+fault, because it so happens that I understand my daughter
+almost as well as you do. She may think herself romantic, but
+she isn't--there's no more romance about her than there is about
+me. She's a healthy, vigorous female animal, with her father's
+blood in her veins, and her father's fondness for the good
+things of this life of all sorts and kinds. She's seen little of
+men, especially young men, and I quite appreciate the fact that
+you're just the sort of young man at whose head she would fling
+herself--with a little delicate encouragement from you. But she
+won't, don't you make any mistake, my lad. I haven't forgotten
+how your father won your mother; and I promise you you shan't
+win my daughter in the same way. On the day on which I suspected
+you of any such intention you'd be branded as a gaol bird, and
+for the whole remainder of your life you'd be passing in and out
+of prison gates. I'm asking for no promise, being aware that
+you're one of Nature's liars, I know that not the least reliance
+is to be placed on any word you utter, but I'm giving you a
+promise. You can make any excuse to her you like--I'm sure
+you're a whale at excuses; if you ever speak to her again, even
+to tell her that you're not to speak; if you ever write to her;
+if you ever hold any communication with her whatever, you'll
+pass into the hands of the police, and I'll tell her your story
+and your father's. My girl has another thing in common with her
+father--she's honest, she hates a rogue. And if she knew that
+you were a common kennel thief, as your father was before you,
+she'd have no more truck with you if you were twenty times her
+husband, and I don't believe she'd move a finger to save you
+from penal servitude. I'm not going to turn you away; you're
+going to continue to occupy your present position in my office,
+so that I can keep my eye on you, so don't you try to turn tail
+and run. Now we understand each other. I have my morning letters
+to attend to, but I thought I'd better have this little
+explanation with you first. Now you can go; take my advice--if
+you can--steal no more. If you keep along the same path you'll
+find at the end what your father found, he was no more anxious
+to find it than you are--suicide.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_04" href="#div1Ref_04">THE THREE GIRLS AND THE THREE<br>
+TELEGRAMS</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">His uncle's words were in Rodney's ears for days afterwards. Was
+it conceivable that he, to whom life was so sweet a thing, could
+under any circumstances seek refuge in a suicide's grave? It was
+horrid that his father should have been that sort of man; it was
+hard on him. His mother ought to have told him; at least he
+would have been on his guard. No wonder his uncle had been
+prejudiced against him; had his mother not been so unkindly
+silent, he might--well, he might have framed his conduct, so far
+as his uncle was concerned, on different lines. How could he
+have guessed that his uncle was observing him with almost
+unnatural keenness; while, all the time, he supposed him to be
+purblind? It was a most unfortunate position for a young fellow
+to be placed in; a word from his mother would have been of such
+assistance. He was always reluctant to blame anyone; yet he
+could not but feel that his parents had not used him well; with
+that moral colour-blindness, which was one of his most striking
+characteristics, he was already beginning to lump them together,
+though he knew perfectly well, of his own knowledge, that, in
+all things, his mother had been the soul of honour.
+He was most awkwardly placed as regards his cousin; he had
+engagements with her which he was aware she would resent his
+breaking; and her father had even forbidden him to explain. Not
+that he could think of any explanation which would meet the case
+from her point of view; she was apt to be quick-tempered where
+he was concerned, and he was most anxious to keep in with her;
+one never knew what might happen. He had been cramming up the
+subject of apoplexy, both from books, and from the lips of
+medical acquaintances; and he felt sure, from certain little
+things he had noticed, that it was quite possible that his uncle
+might have a stroke at any second; and, of course, if he did,
+the situation would be entirely altered. But, at the same time,
+that could not be counted on; and, in the meanwhile, there was
+Gladys both to consider and conciliate. Still, he managed; his
+dexterity in such matters was remarkable. He contrived that a
+communication should reach his cousin to the effect that her
+father had forbidden him to meet her, on pain of instant
+dismissal, and that, to save her from the paternal anger, he had
+promised that he would not even write to her. He counselled her,
+however, to be patient, expressing his conviction that this
+state of things was not likely to continue, and that before long
+they would be more than compensated for the brief period during
+which they would be separated one from the other.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then he went to his uncle in his room at the office, and telling
+him, what was quite true, that Gladys had written asking for an
+explanation of his sudden cessation of their intimacy, requested
+him, for everybody's sake, since he had ordered him not to write
+to her, to inform her himself of the prohibition he had laid
+upon his nephew. This, grimly enough, Mr. Patterson undertook to
+do, and doubtless did. And for more than a fortnight Rodney
+Elmore had quite a dull time. Then a sequence of events came
+crowding on him so rapidly that within a period of some
+eight-and-forty hours the whole course of his life was changed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The sequence began on a certain Saturday morning. Before he was
+yet out of his bedroom he was informed that Mr. Austin had
+called; and, indeed, the words were hardly spoken before Tom
+showed himself in. Rodney was unfeignedly glad to see him. He
+had always liked Tom, who was the antipodes of himself; a
+red-headed, freckle-faced, simple-minded youth, who was not
+likely to set the Thames on fire, and who, in fact, had no
+desires in that direction. He had &quot;cut&quot; college for a few days,
+but had to hurry back by an early train; which explained the
+matutinal hour he had chosen for a call. He brought news that
+Stella was in town, staying with some people over Kensington
+way; and suggested, as he rather thought that Stella found it
+dullish, that he should look her up, if possible that very
+afternoon, and take her somewhere. Rodney declared that he would
+be only too glad to have the chance; he would get away early
+from the office, and go straight to her, and would let her have
+a wire at once to let her know that he was coming.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then, when they adjourned to breakfast, a meal at which the
+visitor expressed his readiness to assist, Tom volunteered the
+information that he had been down to see Mary Carmichael, who
+was staying with an aunt at Hove. She was quite well, was Mary,
+and, if anything, prettier than ever; and he rather thought
+that, at last, he had fixed things up with her. As he said this
+he flushed a red which was not at all the same shade as his
+hair.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know,&quot; he observed, &quot;how she's always refused to take me
+seriously, and what a job I've had to get her to do it, and how
+she's always ragged me, pretending that I was too young to know
+my own mind, and all that sort of rot. Well, this time I rather
+fancy that I've convinced her that I do know my own mind; and,
+what's more, I fancy that I've found out what's in hers too. You
+know, she's always stuck out that she'd have nothing to say to
+me about--you know what, till I'd taken my degree. Of course, I
+ought to have taken the beastly thing ages ago; there's no need
+for anyone to tell me that; but this time I am going to do the
+trick--you see. Everyone will tell you that I've been working
+like blazes, and even my tutor has hopes. Mary as good as told
+me last night that if I once got the thing the banns could go up
+inside three months--honestly, she did. Of course, she was only
+laughing; you know how she does laugh at a fellow; but I believe
+she meant it, all the same. I say, this ham of yours is top
+hole; I'll have another whack.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">While Tom helped himself to the other &quot;whack,&quot; his friend said
+with a sigh:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're a lucky beggar to be able to think of marriage at your
+time of life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't I know it? For that I've got the pater to thank; he's
+been making more piles. All he really wants is that I should
+settle down; nothing would please him better than to see me
+married; he'd be almost as glad as I should to have Mary as a
+member of the family. Isn't it queer that while I've liked Mary
+all her life I've liked her more and more as time went on,
+until--well, if I do get her I shall have got all I want.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then, with all my heart, I hope you get her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've decided hopes, old man--decided. I say, you know, Stella's
+not a bad sort, although I am her brother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think that I don't know it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're the best pal I have in the world, and--I don't think she
+objects to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tom, dear old chap, don't say another word--please. I'm never
+going to ask a girl to marry me until I'm in a position to keep
+her as my wife should be kept.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's sound enough in a general way; but as regards this
+particular case it's all tuppence. Stella has money, and the
+pater, if properly worked, would supply more; I happen to know
+that he's quite willing she should marry anyone she likes, so
+long as it's a decent chap--and he knows you're that. Why, if it
+comes to that, he could slip you, as easy as winking, into a
+much better berth than the one you have at your uncle's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tom, I know you're the best chum a man ever had, and one day
+I'm going to prove it. I haven't your happy knack of baring my
+heart, even to myself; I'm a more secretive kind of brute; but,
+like you, I have my dreams, and before very long I hope to have
+good news for you. But now, please, don't say anything more
+about it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And Tom said nothing; he changed the subject to Oxford gossip,
+chattering away light-heartedly while Rodney glanced at the
+letters which the morning post had brought. Among them was one
+in a bold, slashing hand, which he knew well.</p>
+<br>
+
+<p style="text-indent:50%">&quot;90, Russell Square.</p>
+
+<p style="text-indent:70%">&quot;Friday.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<span class="sc">Dear Old Boy</span>,--The dad's gone off weekending without notice,
+and I never found out what he was going to do till it was too
+late to get at you, or I would have got; so here am I in this
+great mausoleum of a house all on my lonesome. To-morrow,
+early, I've an engagement with Cissie Henderson, but in the
+evening--and no nonsense, sir!--you'll have to dine me in some
+quiet place, where there are no prying eyes; and afterwards you
+can amuse me as you like. No excuse will be accepted; I want to
+spend to-morrow evening in your society, and I'm going to--and
+the dad can go hang! So mind you send me a wire directly you get
+this to let me know where I'm to meet you--at seven, sir!--and
+don't let there be any mistake about it. Until we do meet,</p>
+
+<p class="right">&quot;Yours, G.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">As he read this characteristic note of an up-to-date young woman
+a chord was touched somewhere in Rodney's being which made him
+conscious of a pleasant little thrill. Even while Austin
+chattered he was telling himself that he also would let the
+lady's &quot;dad go hang,&quot; and that she should spend the evening in
+his society, be the consequences what they might.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When the visitor departed it was understood that Rodney would
+send a wire on his way to the office to let Stella know at what
+time she might expect him. Scarcely had Austin left the house
+than there came a telegram for Elmore. He opened it, supposing
+it to be from the impatient lady in Russell Square; but he was
+wrong. The message ran:</p>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do come down to-morrow and cheer me up. Aunt is going out. I
+shall be alone. I have had Tom as companion for three whole
+days, so am in need of a tonic. Wire train. Be sure and come.</p>
+
+<p style="text-indent:60%">&quot;<span class="sc">Mary</span>.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Mary? For a moment he wondered who Mary was. Then he saw that
+the message had been handed in at a Brighton post-office, and he
+understood. Mary? Mary was Mary Carmichael. At the thought of
+her his eyes sparkled and his spirits rose. After a fashion Mary
+Carmichael was the feminine creature in all the world that he
+liked best. Not only was she pretty, and dainty, and bright, and
+smart and clever, but just as Gladys Patterson appealed to him
+in one direction so Mary Carmichael did in another. Her telegram
+suggested what that direction was; in a way they were birds of a
+feather. Tom Austin had been her life-long admirer, slave, her
+avowed wooer; quite probably one day she would become his wife;
+yet she was not averse to being &quot;cheered up&quot; by his bosom
+friend, after confessing, by telegram, that she had been bored
+by three days of his society. Rodney chuckled at the thought of
+it; the thing seemed to him to be so amusing. Just now Tom had
+been telling him, with boyish candour, in single-hearted
+confidence in his integrity, that he had come away from Brighton
+under the impression that he was shortly to be made the happiest
+of men; and here was the girl who was to make him happy so
+anxious for an antidote to his society, begging him to do what
+Tom clearly had not done--cheer her up--and adding, as a
+peculiar inducement, that she would be alone. Poor old Tom! what
+a fool he was--and what a little minx was pretty Miss Mary!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On his way to the office Rodney sent three telegrams. One to
+Stella Austin, at Kensington, to say that he would be with her
+as near to two o'clock as possible, and that he hoped she would
+come out with him; one to Gladys Patterson, in Russell Square,
+asking her to meet him at a restaurant in Jermyn Street at seven
+sharp; one to Mary Carmichael, at Hove, informing her that he
+would arrive in Brighton to-morrow morning by the train due at
+noon. It was a female clerk to whom he handed these three
+messages; when she had scanned them she glanced up at him, as he
+felt, with a species of curiosity; he had a suspicion that she
+smiled.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_05" href="#div1Ref_05">STELLA</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">On the whole, Rodney Elmore spent a pleasant afternoon with
+Stella Austin. He took her to the Zoological Gardens, which was
+a place she liked. Beyond doubt she enjoyed herself immensely.
+She was very fond of animals, even of the most savage kind. In
+the wild-beast house, confronting the lions and the tigers, with
+Rodney at her side, she wondered, with a little shudder, what
+would happen if the creatures all got out. Drawing her arm in
+his, he pressed it closely; she liked that, too.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">From his point of view, the pleasure with which she greeted him
+on his arrival at the house in Kensington was almost pathetic.
+He reproached her gently for not having told him she was coming
+to town. She replied that it had only been decided at the last
+moment, and that she was just going to write to him when Tom,
+appearing on the scene, offered to take the news in person. The
+way in which she took it for granted that he was as glad to see
+her as she was to see him appealed to his sympathy so strongly
+that he was nearly moved to take her in his arms and kiss her
+there and then. But he refrained. He never had kissed Stella,
+even in the old days. He had always had a feeling that a kiss
+would mean so much more to her than it did to him; indeed, that
+was one of her faults in his eyes, that everything meant so much
+more to her than it did to him. Often he would have liked to
+kiss her; having brought matters to a point at which a kiss was
+the next thing which might have been expected, he felt sure that
+she had expected it. But he kept himself sufficiently in hand to
+stop on the very edge, having it in his mind that it might be as
+well for him to be able, some day, if need be, to assert with
+truth that he had never gone beyond it.
+Ordinarily he would have had no scruples on such a point. Oddly
+enough, in a sense, he was afraid of Stella, recognising in her
+an essential purity with which he himself had nothing in common.
+Her standard of life was so infinitely above his own that he was
+always conscious of a sense of strain after being some time in
+her company; it came from his attempting to sustain himself in
+the rarefied atmosphere in which she moved with ease. He would
+have been willing to hold her in his arms; he would have loved
+to; but he would not have liked to know that she was his
+superior in all essentials; and he would have to know. Sooner or
+later she might discover what kind of creature he was; but,
+though he believed that in such a plight she would keep her own
+counsel, none the less he would resent the discovery she had
+made.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then, again, his taste in women was fastidious; he was not
+sure that she filled all his requirements. She was pleasant
+enough to look at; had pretty eyes, a fresh complexion, a tender
+smile--sometimes when she smiled he loved her so that it was all
+he could do to keep from committing himself utterly. But she was
+short and broad for her height; to his thinking her figure
+lacked dignity. He had the modern young man's notion that if you
+look at the mother you will see what the daughter is going to
+be. Mrs. Austin was plump and matronly; he feared that before
+long Stella would be the same. He did not care for matronly
+women; he liked them tall and slim. Then he was particular about
+the way in which a woman dressed; he liked those whom he
+favoured with his society, as he put it, to do him credit. He
+had felt, only too often, that Stella was almost dowdy; she was
+never really smart. Her clothes were good of their kind, but
+they suggested the provinces; or she had not the knack of
+showing them off to advantage. He liked a girl's foot to be
+cased in what he called a pretty stocking, and a smart shoe with
+a Louis heel; Stella wore serviceable shoes with low heels, and
+the plainest of stockings. With these things in his mind he had
+ventured, once, to hint that he would like to have the dressing
+of her. She had been silent for some seconds, and had then
+replied, scarcely above a whisper, and with downcast eyes:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps one day you will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was perfectly conscious that that &quot;one day&quot; was the day of
+which she was always dreaming. He was not sure that he was so
+willing it should come as she was.
+But that afternoon he was not disposed to be critical. He was
+really glad to see her. It was some time since they had met; he
+was nearly surprised to find what a jolly girl she was; her
+smile was unusually tender. As they quitted the monkey-house she
+spoke of Tom and Mary.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did Tom tell you that he has nearly brought that hard-hearted
+Mary of his to the promising point?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He did seem to be sanguine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Poor old Tom! I believe if she'd promise quite he'd pass
+straight off; it's anxiety which causes him to be ploughed. I've
+written to Mary telling her just what I think, and informing her
+that she's to keep him no longer suspended between heaven and
+earth, but that she's to marry him at once. Mamma wants it, papa
+wants it, I want it, Tom wants it--everybody wants it. She's the
+dearest girl in the world; but she's a goose.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Because she hesitates?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why should she? Tom will make her the best husband in the
+world--you know he will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps every girl doesn't want 'the best husband in the
+world.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you trying to say something clever? If she has a husband,
+of course she does. Do look at those two in front; I've been
+watching them. She keeps putting out her hand to feel for his,
+or he puts out his to feel for hers. Do you think they're newly
+married?&quot;</p>
+
+ class="normal"&quot;Is that how you mean to behave when you're newly married?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It depends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;On what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, it depends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You said that before. On what does it depend?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Suddenly a glimpse he caught of the smile which lighted up her
+face started him off at a tangent--without waiting for her
+answer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It seems ages since I saw you last; it's awfully nice to see
+you again--especially as you're looking prettier than ever.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you like this frock that I've got on? You ought to, I had it
+made specially for you--you are so critical about my clothes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oughtn't a man to be critical about the girl he--he cares for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you care for me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know I do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How much?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;More than I--dare tell you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I hope one day, before very long, you'll find courage enough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The challenge was a direct one. In such matters he was
+such a creature of impulse that it set his pulses galloping.
+They had reached a spot where they had for sole society some
+queer-looking birds who peered at them through the wires which
+confined them to their runs.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella, you mustn't tempt me. If you only knew what I'd give to
+be able to take you in my arms.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, it isn't fair of you to talk like that. You say that
+sort of thing, and make me feel as if the world were whirling
+round and round, and then you go no farther.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know why I go no farther.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't! I don't!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As she turned and looked at him he saw how her cheeks were
+flushed; that tears were in her pretty eyes; how her lips were
+twisted as by physical pain. He really was so fond of her that
+the sight of her suffering moved him almost beyond endurance.
+Careless of spectators who might come at any moment to look at
+the birds, he took both her hands in his.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He paused; he was conscious how pregnant with meaning the pause
+was to her, how she waited for his words. He let them come.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella, will you be my wife?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know I will! How long have you known it, sir? How long have
+you been aware that you had only to ask to have? I go all over
+shame when I think of it. I don't--I really don't--think you've
+used me quite fairly, sir. Because, you know, you oughtn't to
+keep on telling a girl that you care for her, and--then say
+nothing more. I've even sometimes wondered if you were playing
+with me--I have! Were you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never. How could you think it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I had to think something, hadn't I? And--what could I think?
+Then you do really and truly care for me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;With the whole force of my being.&quot; She drew a long breath, as
+if it were a sigh of pleasure.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And you really and truly want me to be your wife?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As Tom said of Mary--if I get you I get all that I want in the
+world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then, why didn't you try to get me before?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella, every man has his own standard. You have money; perhaps
+one day you'll have more; I have no money; perhaps I never may
+have. Under those circumstances, though I worshipped the ground
+you stood on, I had, and have, no right to ask you to be my
+wife. I have held out against the temptation to do so over and
+over again, but--I could hold out no longer. You must forgive
+me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;For what? For having what you call 'held out'? I am not sure
+that I do. You can't have wanted me so very, very much, or you
+wouldn't have held out so long. That's what I feel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella, if you only knew!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And if you only knew!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The days I've thought of you, and the nights I've dreamed!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And do you suppose that I can't think--and dream?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Sometimes, after I've left you with the words unuttered, and
+thought of what I should feel if I had you in my arms, it was
+pretty hard to bear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney!--I wonder if anyone is coming? After all your holding
+out, you have--chosen a funny place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Heedless of anyone coming, he put his arm about her waist and
+drew her quickly to the comparative shelter of a fairly grown
+tree.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When Rodney Elmore had started out with Stella Austin nothing
+had been farther from his mind than any intention of asking her
+to be his wife. He was amazed to find, now that the thing was
+done, how pleasant it had been. The whole episode had been
+delightful--so delightful that he was loth to bring it to a
+close. The rubicon being passed, another Stella was revealed.
+The simple question he had put to her might have been some magic
+formula, so great a change had it wrought in the maiden. He had
+never credited her with the capacity to be so delicious; for she
+was delicious in a dozen unsuspected ways. He had been fond of
+her before he asked her to be his wife; in less than half an
+hour! afterwards he was in love with her. The new Stella had
+bewitched him; to such a degree that he would have been willing
+to stay with her in the Zoological Gardens for an indefinite
+period of time, had he not had a previous engagement. It was
+with a feeling of distinct disgust that he realised that he
+would have to tear himself away. Nor was the parting rendered
+easier by the lady's attitude. She could not be brought to see
+that any engagement was of such importance that, on that day of
+all days, he was forced to leave her so summarily. Nor would he
+have left her, could he have helped it. He assured her, with
+perfect truth, that he would have only been too happy to spend
+the evening with her at the house of her friends in Kensington,
+had he dared, but he did not dare. She asked him why, being now
+entitled to ask such questions. He did not tell her that it was
+because he was conscious that it might be almost more dangerous
+to disappoint his cousin than to rob her father. He fabricated
+instead an ingenious lie, which convinced her against her will.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then there arose the question of the morrow. Being Sunday, of
+course he would be able to spend the whole of it with her.
+There, again, a previous engagement blocked the way. He
+explained that, never having anticipated the delightful footing
+on which he stood with her, he had made the engagement long ago.
+Would she have him break his word? It depended, she said, to
+whom his word was pledged; she did think that he might spend
+that first Sunday with her. Then he spun a yarn about an old
+friend of his mother who had begged him again and again to visit
+her, to whom he had promised to go at last. He knew that she had
+made all sorts of preparations for his reception; now, if he
+were to throw her over she would feel, with justice, that he had
+treated her very badly. He could not bear that she should feel
+that. She was his mother's dearest friend. Her name was Staples.
+She lived in a little village the other side of Dorking. Stella
+supposed that, anyhow, he would not have to stay there late. As
+to that, he could not say. The Sunday trains to Dorking were
+very awkward. But this he promised, at the earliest moment at
+which with decency he could get away, he would; and if the hour
+of his return to town were not frightfully late he would rush
+over to Kensington, if it were only for half a dozen words. But
+of this she might be quite certain; he would spend the whole of
+Monday evening with her if she would let him; he would come
+straight to her from the office.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So, finally, on that understanding, they parted; that he would
+come to her on Sunday, if only for a minute or two, and that,
+anyhow, he would revel in her dear society for so much of Monday
+as was left after his office work was done. But, for him,
+between that and Monday, the world was to be turned upside down.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_06" href="#div1Ref_06">GLADYS</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">Hurry as he might, it was nearly half-past seven before Rodney
+Elmore reached that restaurant in Jermyn Street at which he was
+due at seven. The fault was Stella's. Had she not spun out the
+parting to such an unconscionable length, he would have been
+able to be there in time. But he could not explain this to
+Gladys Patterson, who had never heard of the girl. She rose, as
+he came in, from a seat in the vestibule, with a face which
+mirrored the anxiety she had felt.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Whatever is the matter? I thought that something had happened,
+and you weren't coming.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dearest child, I've been the victim of a series of
+accidents; I was beginning to wonder myself if I should ever get
+here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then he told another lie--invented on the spur of the moment. He
+had not troubled to prepare one on the way; he was not sure of
+the mood in which he might find her; one story might suit one
+mood another another. With him, to lie was as easy as to
+breathe; he himself was often hardly conscious he was lying, he
+lied so like truth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So you see, I've been half off my head, and in a deuce of a
+stew. Perhaps you'll tell me what you'd have done in my
+position. But, thank goodness, I'm here at last. The worst of it
+is, I haven't ordered dinner, or reserved a table; we shall have
+to take pot-luck; let's hope that the <i>table d'hôte</i> is worth
+eating.&quot;
+It so chanced that there was a table, and that the <i>menu</i> of the
+set dinner read quite well. Presently they were fronting each
+other at a little table in a corner of the room, each in the
+best possible frame of mind. She had forgotten the strain of
+waiting in her delight that he had come, while he was charmed to
+find her in so good a temper. Indeed, he seemed to be in the
+very highest spirits, and when he was that no one could be
+better company. Then the food was good; that was a point on
+which they both were excellent judges. On the occasion of that
+first dinner in Russell Square each had played on the other a
+pleasant comedy; to make a good impression on the strange
+cousin, who might have views on such matters, Gladys had drunk
+nothing but water, and, for some similar reason, Rodney had done
+the same. It was only when, later, they were on more intimate
+terms, that they learned that neither was a teetotaller. It was
+rather funny. As a matter of fact, so far as the pleasures of
+the table were concerned, Gladys was in very truth her father's
+child; not only could she appreciate good food well cooked, but
+she was by way of being a connoisseur of certain wines; and in
+such respects Rodney was an excellent second.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Before the dinner was half way through she was looking at him
+with something in her eyes which spoke to a similar something
+which was in his. He had forgotten the episode of the afternoon
+as if it had never been. This was the sort of girl he loved to
+have in front of him on the other side of a table--one who would
+eat what he ate, drink what he drank, do as he did; to whom he
+could say whatever he pleased. They joked on the subject of the
+absent Mr. Patterson.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wonder,&quot; she said, &quot;what would happen if he walked in here at
+this very moment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney also wondered, for a second, in silence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;For one thing, he'd spoil our evening, because he'd start you
+straight away off home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Would he? I should take some starting. I never am particularly
+afraid of him, and I'm not in the least when I've had two
+glasses of Montebello--rattling good bottle, this is. Thank you;
+that's the third. What beats me is why you're afraid of him. You
+don't strike me as being a person who's afraid of much. What
+would it matter if he did give you the key of the street, so far
+as his office is concerned? You'd easily find a better one.
+There's a mystery somewhere. Don't imagine, my dear old man,
+that I don't know so much. Why has he such an objection to you?
+And why are you so much in awe of him? Now's your time--out with
+it. Make a clean breast of it--between this glass and the next.&quot;</p>
+
+ class="normal"&quot;I can't tell you why he objects to me, but I can assure you
+that I don't stand in awe of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rubbish! If you don't, why have you kept away from me in the
+way you have done?--you exasperating boy! I console myself with
+the reflection that if I'm losing your society you're losing
+mine; because I'll bet a trifle that you're just as fond of
+seeing me every other day or so as I am of seeing you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're right there. If I saw you all day and every day I
+shouldn't mind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not so sure of that; there's a limit. It might be all right
+for a time; but, my hat! wouldn't you get bored after a month of
+nothing else but my society!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What price you--after a month of nothing else but me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She seemed to reflect before she answered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You see, it's like this; if you and I were alone together for a
+month, or longer----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'd be willing to make it longer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Would you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She looked at him with shining eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, you're a dear. If we were to be alone together for so
+long as that, we should have to alter the pace. I fancy that
+where a man and a woman are concerned it's the pace that kills.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What do you mean by that, oh, wise one?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you had one pound of chocs to eat you might gobble them down
+as fast as you please, and no harm would be done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You've tried it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps! But if you had a ton you would have to go, oh so
+carefully, or you would be so sick. But we meet so seldom that
+when we do we want to gobble; I know that, so far as I am
+concerned, I want to get as much of you as I possibly can during
+the short time we are together.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Same here--only more so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They smiled at each other across the little table. Then,
+glancing down, she transferred her attention to what was on her
+plate.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But, of course, if we weren't to part for a month--or more--it
+would be different.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;True, oh, queen! And suppose we were to marry!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't think I'd mind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm pretty nearly sure I shouldn't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's very sweet of you to say so. Only--there's dad!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's very much dad!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He can forbid my seeing you, and that kind of thing, if he
+pleases; and if he finds out that I've been disobedient he'll
+make himself extremely disagreeable. Still, I fancy I could
+manage him. But if I were to marry you against his wishes, I
+don't believe I'd ever get another penny from him, living or
+dead; and as you have no immediate promise of becoming a
+millionaire, that would be awkward for both of us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It would. All the same, don't you think it would be comfy if we
+were secretly engaged--in the event of anything happening to
+him?&quot;</p>
+
+ class="normal"&quot;What's going to happen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Anything--living the sort of life he does.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you hinting that there's anything the matter with his
+health?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear girl, you've only to use your eyes to be aware that a
+doctor would tell him that he's the kind of man who ought to
+swear off everything. And does he?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You make me feel all shivery. You talk as if you expected him
+to die right off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We've all had sentence of capital punishment pronounced against
+us, and, though we don't know when it will be put into
+execution, in such a case as his it's possible to guess that it
+mayn't be very long postponed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney! I don't like to hear you talk like that. He's fond of
+asking me questions about you; I hate telling lies; if we were
+engaged, and he were in one of his cross-examining moods, I
+might find myself in a fix.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He played with his knife while a waiter was bringing another
+course.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Consider something else. Let me put a hypothetical case.
+Suppose a girl were to make a dead set at me, I might like to be
+able to tell her that I'm engaged already.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who's the girl?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The girl, like the case, is hypothetical; but I can conceive of
+circumstances in which I should like to feel that we were
+engaged.&quot;</p>
+
+ class="normal"&quot;You've changed your mind. A short time ago you were all the
+other way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've been considering matters. Say, for example, that your
+father puts his foot down, and that we don't see each other
+again for an indefinite period. Do you not think that then I
+should not like to feel that we were engaged?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can feel that we're engaged all you want to, without
+our setting it down in black and white. Aren't you as sure
+of me as if I were your wife already? Don't you know that if
+circumstances permitted I would become your wife? Do you wish me
+to understand that I'm not as sure of you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gladys, you're a goose. So far as I'm concerned, I'm inclined
+to the opinion that I'd like you to be my wife to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's you who are the goose. As if we didn't understand each
+other far too well to render it necessary to have things placed
+on a ceremonious footing. We can do without formulas.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_07" href="#div1Ref_07">MARY</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">On the Sunday Rodney Elmore kept his engagement with the third
+young woman, with the punctiliousness on which, in such matters,
+he prided himself. He went down to Brighton on the Pullman,
+Limited, and was met at the station by Mary Carmichael. He
+exclaimed, at sight of her:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You angel!--to come and meet me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not quite sure that I did come to meet you, in the strict
+sense. I'd nothing to do; I've always a feeling that the
+queerest lot of people come by this train, the oddest sort of
+week-enders--didn't you notice how the platform reeked of
+perfume?--so that its arrival's generally worth seeing. Besides,
+between ourselves, I'd a kind of notion that Tom might come by
+it. If he had I should have ignored you utterly, and should have
+explained that something within told me he was coming, and that
+was why I was here. Wouldn't he have been enraptured?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As he listened--and, in his observant way, took in the details
+of her appearance--Rodney was conscious, not for the first time,
+of how beneficent Providence had been in making girls in such
+variety. Stella, emblematic of the domestic virtues; Gladys, for
+physical pleasure; Mary, suggestive of the arch in the sky,
+which, though a man may walk for many days, he shall never find
+the end of. To his thinking she was as many-tinted as a rainbow;
+as beautiful, as elusive. He doubted if the average man were her
+husband whether he would have any but the dimmest comprehension
+of her at the finish; she had a knack of surprising even him. He
+had known her a good long time, yet he admitted to himself that
+in many respects she was still wholly beyond his comprehension,
+and he prided himself, not without reason, on his gift for
+understanding persons of the opposite sex.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They went down towards the Hove lawns in a fly, and were still
+in Queen's Road when she said:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So you've done it at last.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He turned towards her as if a trifle startled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Done what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Asked Stella to be your wife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How on earth do you know that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My simple-minded babe, aren't I the very dearest friend Stella
+has in the world? And didn't she, directly you left her
+yesterday afternoon, send me a telegram conveying the news?
+Do you think she would keep it a moment longer than she could
+help from me, especially as she is perfectly well aware that
+I've been on tip-toe for it for goodness alone knows how long?
+And aren't I expecting a letter of at least half a dozen
+pages to-morrow morning to tell me all about it? I wired my
+congratulations to her at once, and I almost wired them to you;
+then I thought I'd keep them till you came this morning. My
+congratulations, Rodney, dear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was more taken aback than he would have cared to own. What an
+idiot he had been! Had he had his senses about him he would have
+given Stella to understand that the new relationship between
+them must be kept private till it suited him to make it public.
+That she should have telegraphed to Mary the moment he had left
+her! Could anything be more awkward? If to Mary, why not to
+others? To her mother, her father, her brother, her cousins, and
+her aunts; and she had crowds of dearest friends. Possibly by
+now the news was known to fifty people; they would spread it
+over the face of the land. Had he foreseen such a state of
+things he would have torn his tongue out rather than have said
+what he did in Regent's Park. Imbecile that he was; he had
+forgotten altogether that that was just the tale a girl of a
+sort loves to tell. Had he had his wits about him he might have
+known that she would be all eagerness to proclaim her happiness
+to her friends. To have had a private understanding with Stella
+might have been fun. He might have lied to her; played the
+traitor; done as he pleased--it would not have mattered if her
+heart was broken so long as she suffered in silence. But the
+affair assumed quite a different complexion if her confounded
+relations were to have their parts in it. He would have to
+endure all kinds of talkee-talkee from her mother. That oaf Tom
+might want to thrust his blundering foot into what was no
+concern of his. Worst of all, there was her father. Rodney was
+quite certain that he would want to regularise the position at
+once; that he himself would be helpless in his hands. Mr. Austin
+would require a clear statement of his intentions; having got
+it, he would see that it was adhered to. Being opposed to long
+engagements, he would want to fix the wedding day--and he would
+fix it. Rodney was uncomfortably conscious that he had made such
+a conspicuous ass of himself that, being delivered into her
+father's strong hands, almost before he knew it he might find
+himself the husband of Stella Austin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He shuddered at the thought--a fact which was observed by the
+young lady at his side.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Whatever is the matter? You shook the fly! You haven't thanked
+me for my congratulations, nor do you seem so elated as I
+expected. You know I'm not sure that it was quite nice of you to
+propose to another girl on the very day before the one on which
+you knew you were coming down to me. For all you could tell, I
+was expecting you to propose to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I'd only thought there was the slightest chance, wouldn't I
+have loved to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I suppose for the sake of practice.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well--there are girls with whom one would like to practise
+love-making.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's a nice thing to say, and you an engaged man of less than
+four-and-twenty hours' standing. There's a taximeter--stop him!
+Pay the driver of this silly old cab and let's get into the
+taxi.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The transfer was effected, the driver of the &quot;silly old cab&quot;
+expressing himself on the subject with some frankness. When they
+were in the taxi the lady set forth the idea which had been in
+her mind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't want to go on to the horrid lawns and see the stupid
+people in their ugly dresses; I can't take you to aunt's house,
+because, as you know, she's away, and I don't want the servants
+to talk; I don't want to lunch at either of the hotels, because
+I hate them all; I do want to go where we can be all by
+ourselves, so I suggest the Devil's Dyke. This taxi will romp
+up; it's the most vulgar place I know, so we go where we please
+and do as we choose--everybody does up there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So it was the Devil's Dyke. The taxi did &quot;romp up.&quot; They had
+lunch at the hotel, and afterwards went out on to the downs,
+Rodney carrying a rug which he had borrowed from the hotel over
+his arm. They had not to go far over the slopes before they had
+left the few people who were up there behind, and were as much
+alone as if they had the world to themselves. Rodney spread the
+rug on the grass at the bottom of one of those little hollows
+shaped like cups which are to be found thereabouts by those who
+seek. On it they reclined; the gentleman lit a cigar, the lady a
+cigarette. They were as much at home with each other as either
+could desire. Their conversation was frankness itself.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When I feel like liking it,&quot; observed the lady, &quot;this is just
+the sort of thing I do like. You're engaged, and I'm engaged, so
+we ought to be nice to each other. Do you mind my kissing you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not a bit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She leaned over and kissed him on the lips, he removing his
+cigar to enable her to do it. Then she blew her cigarette smoke
+in his face and laughed. He said nothing; he was thinking that
+there was a good deal to be said for being on such terms with
+three nice girls. After all, there might be something in the
+Mohammedan's idea of paradise. She was silent for a moment; then
+inquired:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why did you ask Stella after all? Because you knew she'd like
+you to?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He considered his reply.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No; not altogether. Of course, at the beginning I never meant
+to, then all of a sudden I felt as if I had to. I had a sort of
+feeling that it would be such fun.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And was it fun?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Distinctly; I wouldn't mind going through it all over again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Wouldn't you? Now you'll have to marry her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Shall I?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you want to marry her?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's unfortunate, because you certainly will have to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We'll see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella'll see--or, rather, her family will. If it were any
+other but the Austin family I should have said that a person of
+your eel-like slipperiness----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Might have wriggled away; but if you wriggle away it will be
+out of the frying-pan into the fire. For ever so long the family
+has been expecting you to ask Stella to marry you; you've
+fostered the expectation, and now that you have asked her, if
+you try to sneak out of your engagement, Mr. Austin will make
+things so uncomfortable that you'll find it easier to make
+Stella Mrs. E.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And do you want to marry Tom?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do not. All the same, I expect I shall.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why? If you don't want to?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Miss Carmichael sent a cloud of smoke up into the air.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A girl's position is so different from a man's. I must marry
+someone, and, so far as I can see, it may as well be Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why must you marry someone?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't be absurd! Can you conceive me as a spinster? Rather than
+be an old maid I'd--marry you; I can't say anything stronger.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You've a friendly way of paying compliments.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear young fellow; as a--chum, when I'm in the mood, you're
+ripping, simply ripping; but as a husband--good Lord, deliver
+us! If Stella understood you only a quarter as well as I do
+she'd be only too glad to let you go the very first moment you
+showed the faintest inclination to bolt.&quot;</p>
+
+ class="normal"&quot;And, pray, what sort of wife do you think you'll make?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again a pause, while more cigarette smoke went into the air.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Depends on the man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I presume to what extent you can fool him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can imagine a man to whom I would be all that a wife could
+be, the whole happiness of his whole life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's because you don't understand me as well as I do you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What sort of wife do you think that you'll make Tom?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, he'll be content.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Poor devil!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not so sure; it's a good thing to be content. Each time I
+put my arms about his neck he'll forgive me everything.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So far as I gather, the difference between me as a husband and
+you as a wife consists in this: that while I'm going to be found
+out, you're not. I don't see why you should be so sure of the
+immunity you refuse to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I admit that in this world one never can be sure of anything. I
+quite credit you with as much capacity to throw dust in a
+woman's eyes as I have to throw dust in a man's. Still, there is
+a difference between us of which I'm conscious, though just now
+I'm too lazy to attempt an exact definition. I really can't see
+why you object to Stella; she'll make you a good wife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hang your good wives!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My child! Do you want a bad one? You should have no difficulty
+in being suited.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is a sinner likely to be happy if mated to a saint?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Would he be happier if mated to another sinner? In that case
+you might do well to marry me--which I doubt.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't. I'm disposed to think that ours would be an ideal
+union.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wonder.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Neither would expect the other to be perfect; each would allow
+the other a wider range of liberty for purely selfish reasons.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I say, wouldn't it be rather a joke if you were to throw over
+Stella and I were to throw over Tom and we were to marry each
+other?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'd do it like a shot if it weren't for one drawback--that we
+both of us are penniless.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That is a nuisance, since we are both of us so fond of what
+money stands for. If you had five thousand a year perhaps I
+might marry you after all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm sure you would.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pray why are you sure? You've a conceit!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am sure.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If--I say if--I were to marry you, would you give me a good
+time?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The very best--a time after your own heart.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Would you? Lots of frocks?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All the frocks your soul desired.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Everything I wanted?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's a tall order. I'm only human.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That certainly is true. I shouldn't be surprised if you were
+more generous even than Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't call that sort of thing generosity. A man gives things
+to a woman he cares for because he has a lively sense of favours
+to come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's candid. You've given me one or two trifles already. Has
+that been with a lively sense of favours to come?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You wretch! Would you care for me a little?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I care for you more than a little now, as you are perfectly
+well aware.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She turned and whispered something in his ear. He smiled, but
+kept silent. Presently she said aloud:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It would be rather a joke if we were to marry. Now that the
+idea's got into my head I can't get it out again. It makes
+little thrills go all over me--dear little thrills. I hope that
+if ever you do marry me it will be before I have had to resort
+to any of women's aids to beauty. I should like you to have me
+just as I am, while I am really at my best and while I can still
+bear the most searching investigation. My complexion's my own; I
+use no powder, rouge, or pencil. I haven't a false tooth in my
+head or even a stopped one. I've only a weeny pad on the top of
+my head, which is rendered absolutely necessary by the present
+style of hairdressing--everything about me's true.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Outside.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Sir! I dare say we shouldn't make such a very bad pair. Would
+you--like to marry me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Given an assured position, I would marry you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, then, I'll tell you what we might do. You might marry
+Stella, and--dispose of her with some nice painless thing like
+chloral; and I might marry Tom, and--delicately dispose of him.
+Then we should both of us have an assured position, and--we
+could marry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's more in the idea than meets the eye.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She threw the fag-end of her cigarette away from her and
+laughed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're simply ripping!&quot; she exclaimed.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_08" href="#div1Ref_08">BY THE 9.10; THE FIRST PART OF THE JOURNEY</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney Elmore returned by the 9.10 to town. He had meant to
+travel by the Pullman, but as he entered the station the train
+was drawing clear of the platform. Being informed that another
+express was starting in ten minutes, he had to be content with
+that. Beyond doubt the Pullman had been crowded; as he found
+himself the sole occupant of a first-class carriage, he was
+inclined to think that he had not lost by the exchange. He was
+in a mood for privacy. Events had followed each other so
+quickly; he had so many things to consider that he was glad of
+an opportunity for a little solitary self-communion. He was not
+pleased, therefore, when, just as the signal had been given to
+start, someone came rushing along the platform, the door was
+thrown open by an officious guard, and a passenger was hoisted
+into his compartment while the train was already in motion; nor
+was his pleasure enhanced by the discovery that the intruder was
+his uncle, Graham Patterson. In such disorder had Mr. Patterson
+been thrown that it was some seconds before he even realised
+that he had a companion. Uncovering, he wiped first his brow,
+then the lining of his hat. He panted so for breath that his
+critical nephew said to himself that if he had run a little
+further, or even a little faster, he might have panted in vain;
+he had never seen a man in such difficulty with his breathing
+apparatus. His face was purple, his eyes seemed to be bulging
+out of their sockets.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The train had passed Preston Park station before Mr. Patterson
+had sufficiently recovered himself to become alive to the fact
+that he was not alone. But that he still did not recognise his
+companion his words showed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not exactly--of the build--to--run after trains.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The moment he spoke Rodney became aware that Mr. Patterson had
+been drinking. Not enough, perhaps, to affect his speech--the
+hyphenated form of the remark he had just made was owing to the
+trouble he still had to breathe--but sufficient to place him at
+the point which divides the drunk from the sober. Elmore was
+still; possibly because he was unwilling to spoil what he felt
+was the grim humour of the situation. His silence apparently
+struck the other as odd. Presently Mr. Patterson glanced round
+as if to learn what manner of person this was who offered no
+comment on his observation. Then he perceived who his companion
+was.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The discovery seemed to fill him with amazement which approached
+to stupefaction. His jaw dropped, his eyes bulged still farther
+out of his head, his face assumed a darker shade of purple; he
+looked like a man who was on the verge of a fit. His nephew felt
+that he had never seen him present so unprepossessing a
+spectacle. His surprise was so great that an appreciable space
+of time passed before he could find words to give it expression.
+Then they were of a lurid kind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;By gad!--it's you! Well, I'm damned!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm sorry, sir, to hear it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The retort was so obvious that it had slipped from Rodney's lips
+almost before he was aware. Its effect on Mr. Patterson was so
+great that for some moments his nephew was convinced that that
+apoplectic fit which he had so often seen threatening was
+hideously close. Mr. Patterson himself seemed conscious
+of the risk he ran. He made a perceptible effort to regain
+self-control--a painful one it evidently was. He put his finger
+to his collar as if to loosen it; one could see that his hand
+shook, his lips trembled, beads of sweat stood on his brow.
+Probably more than a minute had passed before he felt himself in
+a condition to speak again. Still his voice was a little hoarse,
+his utterance not quite clear.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My lad, if I could have got at you this morning I should have
+killed you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Should you, indeed, sir. Pray why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The young man had been observing his senior's plight with a
+sense, not only of amusement, but of positive relish. He was
+conscious that a spirit of malice had entered into him. He was
+prepared to return insolence with insolence. This bloated
+relative of his should this time not find him disposed to
+cringe.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Still with his finger to his neck, as if he would have liked to
+loosen his collar, Mr. Patterson went on, yet a little huskily:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Luckily I didn't get at you, because I'll do worse than kill
+you, now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I thank you for your kind intentions, sir. You have not yet
+told me what I have done to deserve them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You've been getting at that girl of mine again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You use unpleasant phrases, sir. I'm afraid you have been
+drinking.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You young swine! In spite of what I told you, last night you
+took her out with you again to dinner.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Premising that I don't see why you should so resent my showing
+little courtesies to members of your family, may I ask on what
+grounds your statement is based?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You young word-twister! You've your father's tongue. Do you
+deny it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That I've my father's tongue?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That you took my girl to dinner?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's for you to prove; not for me to disprove.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A man came to me on the front this morning and said that he saw
+my daughter dining last night in Jermyn Street with a young man.
+He described the fellow; from his description I knew that it was
+you. If I could have got at you then and there I'd have broken
+my stick across your back! I'd have--I'd have---- Are you going
+to tell a lie, and say it wasn't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It was?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It was. Why not? We had a most agreeable evening, much more
+agreeable, perhaps, than you have any notion of. Possibly, if
+you ask Gladys, she herself will tell you so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You--you----!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Steady--go slow! If you don't take care you'll have a fit--you
+know you have been drinking.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Possibly because he had given way to such a sudden access of
+rage, Mr. Patterson again went through all his former
+disagreeable physical experiences, while his nephew smiled. He
+sat inarticulate and gasping, incapable alike of speech or
+movement. When, after a prolonged interval, the faculty of
+speech returned, his voice had grown huskier than ever; he spoke
+slowly, with a pause between each word.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All right, my lad--laugh, but you won't laugh last. You're not
+going to put me in the cart, as your swindler of a father did;
+I'm going to put you there. I warned you what would be the
+result of your attempting to have any more traffic with my girl,
+so you've yourself to thank for whatever happens.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He stopped, as if he found a difficulty in saying much at once.
+When he continued, while his tones were a little clearer, they
+were more bitter.
+&quot;Directly I get home I'm going to tell my girl what kind of man
+you are, and what kind of man your delectable father was. When
+she knows, I'll wager you a trifle that she never willingly
+speaks to you again; she'll despise herself for ever having
+spoken to you at all; she'll treat you in the future as if you
+had never been. She has her faults, but she resembles her father
+on one point--she has no use for a thief, and especially for a
+thief who is the son of a thief.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Another pause; this time, apparently, not so much for the sake
+of gaining breath as to enable his words to have their full
+effect on the smiling young man at the other end of the
+carriage. If he looked for some sign of their having touched him
+on a sensitive spot, he found none; the young man continued to
+smile. Possibly because he suspected that it might be the
+other's intention to irritate, he kept himself the more in hand.
+Leaning back in his seat, laying his parti-coloured silk
+handkerchief across his knee, for the first time he wore an
+appearance of ease, and he also began to smile.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;However, since I'm a cautious man, and you never can be certain
+what trick a blackguard will play upon a girl, I'll make
+assurance doubly sure; I'll take steps which will render it
+impossible for you to play a trick on my girl. The first thing
+to-morrow morning I'll take out a warrant for your arrest as a
+forger and a thief, and I'll give instructions to have it
+executed at once; so, you see, I'm better than my word, as I
+generally am. I warned you that if you dared to force yourself
+upon my girl again I'd have you gaoled, and I will. But I didn't
+undertake to give you a chance to show the police a clean pair
+of heels; yet I'm giving you one. If, between this and to-morrow
+morning--say, at ten--you can make yourself scarce, you can. But
+you'll have to be spry, because I give you my word that if the
+police do let the scent go cold it won't be for want of my
+urging them after you. You may run to earth if you like, but
+they'll dig you out. Don't you flatter yourself on your dodging
+powers; they'll get the handcuffs on your wrists.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Picking up his handkerchief with his finger-tips, Mr. Patterson
+let it fall again across his knee, smiling broadly as if in the
+enjoyment of a joke.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And don't you flatter yourself that you'll come under the First
+Offenders Act--you won't, I'll take care of that. I've a list
+locked up in a drawer at the office the details of which, when
+they are produced in court, will surprise you. No jury will
+recommend you to mercy after hearing that, and no judge will
+listen to them if they do. You'll be sentenced to a long term of
+imprisonment as sure as you are sitting there. You'll be branded
+as a felon for the rest of your life. I'll teach you, you thief,
+to try to associate as an equal with that girl of mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again he picked up his handkerchief; on this occasion to wipe
+his lips. But this time he did not return it to his knee; he
+continued to hold it in his hand--indeed, he waved it affably
+towards Elmore.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I owed your father one--such a one! But he never gave me a
+chance of paying him. Now I owe you one--also such a one--and
+I'll pay you both together--by gad, I will! Oh, you may keep on
+smiling, you brassbound blackguard; I hope you'll find the
+reality as amusing as you seem to find the prospect. When
+you feel a policeman's hand upon your shoulder and handcuffs
+on your wrists, then you'll stop smiling. Make no mistake;
+for you there's only one way of escape, and that's your
+father's--suicide.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Stopping, Mr. Patterson thrust his handkerchief into the outer
+breast-pocket of his coat in such a fashion that the hem
+protruded. There was silence, broken only by the rushing noise
+made by the train. All at once Rodney Elmore, rising, moved
+along the carriage and placed himself on the seat immediately in
+front of his uncle.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_09" href="#div1Ref_09">THE SECOND</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Patterson glared at his nephew as if he had been guilty of a
+gross liberty in placing himself where he had done--indeed, he
+said as much.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Go back to your own end of the carriage at once, you young
+scoundrel. How dare you come so close to me? Isn't it sufficient
+contamination to have to breathe the air of the same
+compartment, without being polluted by your immediate
+neighbourhood?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney was not at all abashed, nor did he show any sign of an
+intention to return whence he came. On the contrary, leaning a
+little forward, he smiled at his uncle blandly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Softly, sir, softly! If you allow yourself to become excited
+you may do yourself a mischief--excitement is the worst possible
+thing for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;None of your insolence, you young hound; don't you think I'll
+allow you to be insolent to me! Are you going back to the other
+end of the carriage?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir; I am not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Patterson made as if to move, then checked himself. Rodney
+asked:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What were you going to do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you don't go back to the other end of the carriage at once
+I'll pull the communication cord and stop the train.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll give you into custody before the whole trainful of
+passengers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Into whose custody?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The guard will take charge of you till we get to a station; he
+won't let you go till he has seen you safe in the hands of a
+policeman. You won't have a chance of running; you'll sleep in
+gaol tonight. Are you going back to your own seat?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I propose to remain where I am.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then I'll stop the train!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He made as if to do as he said, but Rodney, rising first, laid
+his hand upon his shoulder to such effect that he found himself
+unable to move. Indignation brought back the purple to Mr.
+Patterson's face.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You dare to touch me? You infernal young villain--take away
+your hand!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't intend to allow you to touch the communication cord.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You don't intend! We'll see about that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They did see, on the instant. The black knob of the alarm bell
+was over the centre seat in front of Mr. Patterson. Putting out
+his strength, evading Rodney's grip, he gained his feet. Elmore
+took him by the shoulders with both his hands. There was a
+scuffle--sharp, but brief. For a moment it looked as if the
+elder man might be a match for the younger, but for a moment
+only. On a sudden Mr. Patterson collapsed on to his seat as if
+the stiffening had gone all out of him and left him but a mass
+of boneless pulp. He could only gasp out words.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You shall smart for this!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you're not very careful, sir, you'll smart first--my dear
+uncle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you call me your dear uncle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear uncle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Damn you, you----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A flood of vituperation poured from the elder man's lips, which,
+when he had finished, left him an even darker shade of purple.
+Rodney never ceased to smile. So soon as the flood had stopped
+he repeated the endearing form of address.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear uncle&quot;--Mr. Patterson was panting, for the moment he
+was speechless--&quot;turn and turn about's fair play, and fair
+play's a jewel. You've had your say, now I'm going to have
+mine--you'll find mine as interesting as I found yours. To begin
+with, I'm going to ask you one or two questions.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll answer no questions of yours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, yes, you will, when you find what they are. In the first
+place, am I to understand that you are really serious--weigh
+your words, my dear uncle!--in saying that you'd tell
+Gladys--what you said you'd tell her?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So soon as I get home I'll tell her
+everything--everything--about you, and your rascally father,
+too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Will you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I will--as sure as you are living!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So surely as that? And are you prepared to take your oath that
+you'll take out that warrant you were speaking of, or--was that
+intended for a jest?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oath! I'll take no oath to you--you Nature's gaol-bird! But of
+this I assure you, you'll sleep in a prison cell to-night, and
+many and many another night to come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Patterson, dragging the silk handkerchief from his breast
+pocket, used it to wipe away the perspiration which again
+bedewed his brow.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Shall I?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, no, I won't; nor will you tell Gladys those unkind things
+about me and my father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who the devil's going to stop me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm the devil who's going to stop you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney was leaning a little forward. His uncle stopped in the
+process of wiping his brow to stare at him, as if there were
+something in his manner which struck him as peculiar. About the
+young gentleman's lips was the same easy, unconcerned smile
+which had been there all the time; there was a smile also in his
+eyes--it was, apparently, this latter which gave him the odd
+expression which had struck his uncle. Mr. Patterson glanced
+about him as if in search of something he would have liked to
+find. Rodney sat perfectly still. As he put a query to him his
+uncle's pursy lips showed a tendency to twitch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How are you going to stop me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Can't you guess how I am going to stop you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can do nothing of the kind. You can't stop me, or anyone. I
+am going to do my duty to my daughter and to society, and
+nothing can stop me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know better than that. From something which has just come
+upon your face I can see that already you know better.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Patterson gave what he doubtless meant to be a spring
+towards the alarm bell opposite; but, for reasons which were
+beyond his control, his movements were slower than they should
+have been--the younger man was much too quick for him. Gripping
+him again by both his shoulders, exerting greater strength than
+on the first occasion, he forced him back upon his seat with a
+degree of violence which seemed to drive the sense half out of
+him. As Rodney, remaining on his feet, stood towering above him,
+one perceived more clearly that his was the build of the
+athlete, and how great were the probabilities, if they came to
+grips, that the big man would be helpless in his hands. He
+addressed his uncle as an elder person might have spoken to a
+mutinous child.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dearest uncle--you really must permit me to lay stress upon
+your avuncular relationship on what will probably be my last
+chance of doing so--you are not going to pull the alarm bell,
+you are not going to stop the train. You have no more chance of
+doing either than you have of flying to the moon, so get that
+into your drink-sodden brain. Nor are you going to libel me to
+Gladys, nor commit me to the mercy of a ruthless police.
+Presently you will see that as clearly as I do now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney resumed his seat, still keeping his glance fixed on his
+uncle, in whose demeanour a change seemed to have taken place
+which was both mental and physical. Possibly his nephew had used
+more violence than he supposed. The vigour had gone all out of
+him; inert, he stared at Rodney with bloodshot eyes, as if drink
+had taken sudden effect and bemused his brain. The young man's
+smile became more pronounced, as if he found the singularity of
+the other's appearance amusing. The tone of his voice, when he
+spoke, was genial and pleasant.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear uncle, if you, the only relative I have in the world,
+had treated me, when first I entered your office, as you might
+have been expected to do, I might have become an affectionate
+and worthy nephew.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not you. You started robbing me before you'd been in the place
+a week.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is that so? So soon as that? Perhaps you have never known what
+it is to be in want of ready cash.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When I was eighteen I was keeping myself on fifty pounds a
+year, for which I was working anything up to sixteen hours a
+day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed! It might have been better if that period of your life
+had lasted longer. You wouldn't have been in the rotten
+condition you are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the matter with my condition? I never had a day's
+illness in my life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear uncle, if you weren't in a rotten condition you'd have
+rung that alarm bell before this, wouldn't you? But, although
+it's only within a foot or two, you'll never ring it--never,
+because you are rotten.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Patterson glanced towards the black knob. Rodney shook his
+head.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's no good, uncle. You won't be able to get at it--you know
+that. What an illustration you are of the desirability of
+keeping oneself fit! It seems that from the first you kept a
+sharper eye on me than I suspected.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not the fool you took me for.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Aren't you? That remains to be seen. Do you think that it was
+the part of wisdom to threaten me as you have been doing when
+you and I were alone together in a compartment of a railway
+train which doesn't stop, at least, till it gets to Croydon?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've not been threatening you; I wouldn't condescend. I've only
+been telling you what you may expect.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's all; and by doing so you've made the issue a simple one.
+If you reach town alive, to all intents I shall be dead;
+whereas, if you reach town dead, I--shall be on velvet, because
+you see, my dear uncle, I'm Gladys' lover; and she loves me, if
+possible, even more than I do her. I've proofs of it. Since she
+is your only child, when you are dead everything you have will
+be hers, which is tantamount to saying that it will be mine,
+which is just what I should like. So you will at once perceive
+how--from every point of view--very much to my advantage it
+would be that you should be dead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You young hell-hound! Unfortunately for you, I'm not dead, and
+I'm not likely to die.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, yes, you are, very likely--unfortunately for you. You told
+me that my father only found one way to escape trouble--suicide.
+You hinted in your most affectionate manner that some time, in
+my turn, I might only find one way. Your kindly hint made such
+an impression on me that I actually made preparations, so that I
+might never be at a loss if ever that time should come. Those
+preparations are contained in this dainty little box.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney took from his waistcoat pocket what might have passed as
+a silver needle-case or receptacle for pins. He held it out in
+front of his uncle, who was as much moved by the sight of it as
+if it had been some object of horror.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You--you're not going to make away with yourself before my
+eyes? You--you don't suppose I'll let you do it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How would you propose to stop me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again Mr. Patterson mopped his brow with his silk handkerchief
+of many colours. He presented a pitiable spectacle. His lips
+twitched, his hand trembled, and his whole huge frame seemed to
+shiver like a mass of jelly. His voice was broken and husky, he
+stammered in his speech.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Elmore, you--you're quite right; I'm--I'm not very well.
+I--I've had a great deal to put up with lately, and it's
+unhinged me. Give me that infernal thing you've got there--I
+don't know what is in it, or if you're playing a trick with me,
+but--you give it me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm going to--shortly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The young man's airy self-possession was in almost painful
+contrast to the elder's agitation. He glanced at his watch,
+holding the slender, round case between the finger and thumb of
+his other hand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nearly half-past nine. What was that station we passed? Was it
+Hayward's Heath? I fancy we do stop at Croydon, so that there's
+not much time to spare. I'm going to act on your suggestion,
+uncle--with a difference. I am not going to commit suicide, but
+you are!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am?--you young fool!--what do you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In fact, you practically have committed suicide already.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The man's mad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Possibly--but not on this particular point. When you told me in
+such very coarse language what I might expect, you practically
+committed suicide, as--I'm about to prove. You remember the case
+of the eminent financier who, within five minutes of being
+sentenced to a long term of penal servitude, was in a room which
+was immediately outside the court in which he had received his
+sentence, from which he was instantly to be haled to gaol, under
+the very noses of his warders slipped something between his lips
+and--escaped. You will probably remember the case better than I
+do, since at the time I was only a boy; yet I have studied it to
+such purpose that within this pretty little box are--shall we
+call them tabloids?--which are in all essentials identical with
+the one he swallowed. They kill as by a flash of lightning.
+Whoever has one of these within his reach no man shall stay him
+from--escaping. You are going to swallow one of these tabloids,
+uncle--this one.&quot;
+Unscrewing the top of his silver box, Rodney removed the cap,
+and took from it what looked like a small peppermint lozenge,
+holding it up between his finger and thumb.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You see, uncle--this one; as it were, death reduced to its
+lowest possible denomination.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At that moment Rodney seemed to be exercising over his uncle
+some of the fabulous qualities attributed to the serpent. Beyond
+doubt Mr. Patterson recognised with sufficient vividness that
+this young man in front of him was much more dangerous than he
+had supposed; that he had underrated his capacity for evil; that
+he might as well have shut himself in with a tiger as with his
+sister's son. But the recognition came too late. The very force
+of it had the effect of destroying his few remaining powers of
+volition. In face of the deadly purpose with which he perceived
+that his nephew was filled, he was as one paralysed. He could
+only grow purpler and purpler, and splutter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't--don't you play any of your infernal tricks on me,
+you--you villain! Curse it, why can't I get at that bell!&quot; He
+made as if to rise, but, seemingly, was as incapable of movement
+as if he had been glued to his seat. As if conscious that his
+peril was imminent, he raised his voice to a raucous scream.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't--don't you dare to lay your hands on me! Don't--don't you
+dare to touch me! Help!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As the uncle opened his mouth to cry for aid the nephew caught
+him by the throat and slipped between his lips the tiny white
+lozenge which he had taken from the silver box. Then he struck
+up his jaw with a click and held it shut, so that he could not
+put it out again. Forcing back his head, he gripped him tight.
+His uncle was seized with a convulsion which seemed to Rodney as
+if it must have shaken the carriage. Almost at the same instant
+it was as if all vitality had gone clean out of him. The nephew
+was gripping a limp corpse.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_10" href="#div1Ref_10">IN THE CARRIAGE--ALONE</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">Graham Patterson, in the agony of that last convulsion, had
+nearly slipped off the seat, so that, with a very little, he
+would be on the floor. His nephew, who hitherto had not for a
+moment lost his presence of mind, and who kept it then, was at a
+loss. Would such an attitude be recognised as proper for a
+suicide? Would, that is, a doctor--any doctor--be prepared to
+assert that a man who had killed himself with potassium cyanide
+might, under the circumstances, quite conceivably die in such an
+attitude, or assume it after death? To Rodney's supernaturally
+keen vision there were trifles about his uncle's appearance
+which scarcely marked this as inevitably a case of suicide. The
+collar was a little crumpled; the tie a little disarranged; he
+even fancied that there were prints of his fingers on the skin
+of the throat. He was conscious that he had gripped him with
+great force--perhaps a little clumsily; he certainly ought to
+have avoided contact with the collar and the tie, but no doubt
+the prints would wear off. Indeed, as he bent closer he was not
+sure that they did not exist only in his imagination; the light
+was not good; he could not be certain. With dexterous fingers he
+smoothed the collar, he rearranged the tie--so deftly that he
+felt convinced that no one would notice that anything had been
+wrong with him. He raised the body a little, so that it was in
+what seemed to him to be a more natural position, on the edge of
+the seat; he felt that it would look better. He was surprised to
+find how heavy his uncle was--it required quite an effort on his
+part to lift him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He turned the contents of the silver box on to his hand. There
+were seven tiny lozenges. He returned three to the box, and laid
+it on the seat; the other four he placed beside it. Taking an
+envelope out of an inner pocket of his jacket, he tore off a
+corner. In it he placed the four tabloids, carefully folded it,
+and put it in his waistcoat pocket. Then he balanced the cap of
+the box on the arm of the seat beside his uncle; the box itself
+he placed between the fingers of his uncle's left hand, with--in
+it--the other three tabloids. So tightly were the fingers
+clenched that Rodney had to use force to open them sufficiently
+to enable him to insert the box. Then, seating himself opposite,
+he looked his uncle carefully over with an artist's eye for
+detail. In his present attitude, with that open box with its
+tell-tale contents held tightly between his stiffened fingers,
+it seemed to Rodney that a coroner would be bound to instruct
+his jury that suicide was the only possible explanation of
+Graham Patterson's death. Having satisfied himself on which
+point, he withdrew to the opposite end of the carriage, being,
+in spite of himself, conscious of a feeling that the dead man's
+too immediate neighbourhood was not a thing to be desired.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Seated in his original place, he took out his white cambric
+handkerchief, and with it delicately wiped his fingers, having
+an uncomfortable notion that something disagreeable had adhered
+to them which it would be better to remove. Then he set himself
+to consider the position. A great smoker of cigarettes,
+absent-mindedly and as a matter of course he took out his case,
+and was about to light one when it occurred to him that it might
+be a dangerous thing to do. It was not a smoking carriage; if,
+when the discovery was made, it smelt strongly of smoke--and
+nothing lingers like a cigarette--it might be shown that his
+uncle had not been smoking, and the question might arise--who
+had? He returned the case to his pocket. As he did so the train
+rushed past a signal-box. He remembered reading of the strange
+things which signalmen see in trains as they rushed past them.
+When his uncle was found, exhaustive inquiries would be set on
+foot. Quite conceivably some signalman had seen them struggling,
+or something which had piqued his curiosity as it had caught his
+eye. His uncle would be found alone. The signalman's story might
+suggest that at one period of the journey someone had been in
+the carriage with him. What had become of that someone? The mere
+question might start a hue and cry. Rodney recalled, with quite
+a little sense of shock, that his uncle had been partly pushed
+into the carriage by an official on the Brighton platform.
+Graham Patterson was a noticeable-looking person; he must have
+presented a striking spectacle as he had come hurrying along the
+platform. When discovery came about, the official would
+recollect the incident and recognise him beyond a doubt.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Had he noticed that somebody was already in the carriage when he
+was thrusting the fat man in? Rodney was compelled to admit that
+the probabilities were that he had. So far as he himself was
+concerned, Rodney recalled the whole sequence of events. How he
+had rushed up to the ticket inspector just as the Pullman was
+moving; how the man, slamming the gate in his face, had informed
+him that another train was due to start in ten minutes. The
+young gentleman had a suspicion that the fellow had looked him
+up and down as he was explaining. There were others about who
+might also have looked him up and down. Rodney had an uneasy
+feeling that, in his way, he was perhaps as noticeable a figure
+as his uncle--so tall, so upright, so well groomed, so handsome,
+with something about his appearance which almost amounted to an
+air of distinction. He had walked a few paces to another
+platform, as directed; the man at the gate, in his turn, had
+looked him up and down as he clipped his ticket; he had strolled
+leisurely along the platform, which he had had almost entirely
+to himself; when he reached a carriage which he thought would
+suit him, he stood for a second or two at the open door--as he
+remembered, right in front of the official who, later, had
+helped his uncle in.
+He sat up very straight as that little fact came back to him. He
+remembered very well eyeing the man, whom, certainly, he would
+know again anywhere. No doubt the man had eyed him, and had his
+likeness in his mind's eye. The fellow had seen him enter the
+compartment and shut the door; a few minutes later he had opened
+the door again to admit his uncle, well knowing that he was
+already within. The accident might prove very awkward for the
+nephew later on; no one could have appreciated the possibilities
+of the position more clearly than he did.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As he pondered the matter he was inclined to think that he had
+made a mistake in doing what he had done. Such a fuss is made
+about a thing of that sort that, in any event, one runs a risk.
+Had he had more time to appreciate exactly what would be the
+nature of the risk in his own case he might have--hesitated. If
+he had he would have been deposed from his cousin's good graces,
+and--to adopt her sire's rather melodramatic language--have been
+&quot;branded as a felon,&quot; so that he would not have been much better
+off. Looking at it philosophically the result of what he had
+done was this: that whereas, if he had let his uncle have his
+own way, ruin was certain, as things were he had at least a
+fighting chance of postponing the evil day--perhaps to an
+indefinite period. More; in the meanwhile he could have a
+rattling good time. And he would have it. He smiled as he made
+himself that promise.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All the same, though he smiled, he realised that if he proposed
+to have a good time he must not continue to take his ease where
+he was--with his uncle on the seat at the other end. If he
+seriously wished the world to take it for granted that Graham
+Patterson had committed suicide, he must not be found in the
+same compartment. That was sure. He had been told by someone, or
+had read somewhere, that every express train, though assumed to
+be &quot;non-stopping,&quot; stopped at least once, because a signal was
+against it, or at least slowed down sufficiently to enable an
+agile passenger, with safety, to alight. So far that train had
+neither stopped nor slowed. His watch told him that it was
+about twenty to ten--ten minutes ago his uncle had been alive.
+It seemed longer ago than that. He had a fair knowledge of the
+line by daylight; it was different at night. Objects--even
+stations--were difficult to distinguish. He peered through the
+open window without thrusting out his head. They seemed to be
+running through open country, possibly on the top of the
+ballast. He could make out lights, though they were few and far
+between; they seemed to be passing a number of trees, with a big
+building beyond. They crashed through a station--it was
+Earlswood; they had just passed Earlswood Asylum. Immediately
+they would be on the new part of the line, which avoids the
+South-Eastern station at Redhill. There was no station between
+this and Purley. He might leave the train anywhere with
+comparative safety if it would only slow a little. To attempt to
+alight while it was moving at that rate through the darkness
+would be equivalent to committing suicide. At the best he could
+not hope to avoid serious injury. He must wait--till it slowed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The whistle on the engine sounded; the train began to slow.
+Instantly he was leaning forward, his fingers on the handle,
+which was inside the door. The train slowed still more; it
+entered a tunnel, slowing all the while; in the heart of the
+tunnel it stopped--dead. The gods were on his side. Yet not for
+an instant did he lose his presence of mind. The signal was
+against them--that was why they had stopped. Was it on the left
+or the right? On the signal side the guard would possibly have
+his head out of the carriage with an eye for it; possibly some
+of the passengers might be observing it also. It would be fatal
+to get out on that side; his door would be seen opening; he
+might be seen to alight; he would be jumping out of the
+frying-pan into the fire; all sorts of consequences might
+accrue. He looked out of his own window; there was no signal in
+front or behind. Then it was on the other side, on the left,
+against the wall of the tunnel. He looked on to the six-foot
+way. He could see the whole length of the train; not a sign of a
+head at any of the windows. He had already turned the handle,
+opening the door just wide enough he stepped on to the
+footboard, closed the door, and dropped on to the permanent way.
+He had left his uncle to continue his journey alone. Lest his
+upstanding figure might be visible to someone, he crouched as
+close as he could to the ground. The train began to move very
+slowly. The door of the compartment next to that which he had
+just left was opened, a figure came on to the footboard, closed
+the door, sprang on to the ballast while the train was already
+in motion. For a moment Rodney was the victim of a gruesome
+delusion; to him it was as if the door of his own compartment
+had been opened; as if Graham Patterson had alighted at his
+side. He pressed the tips of his fingers into his palms to keep
+himself from exclaiming.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_11" href="#div1Ref_11">THE STRANGER</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">The train went slowly rumbling by; who looked out of the windows
+Rodney neither knew nor cared. He was conscious of the guard's
+van passing, then the train had gone. He could see the tail
+lights moving quicker and quicker through the darkness. He
+himself continued motionless. He had realised by now that it was
+not his uncle who had alighted; that it was the door of the next
+compartment which had been opened. He could not believe that his
+own movements had been observed. He doubted if they could have
+been seen by a person who had not actually got his head out at
+the moment--even by his next door neighbour. He was certain that
+no head had been out. The thing had been a coincidence--a
+strange one, but nothing more. Someone also had reasons for
+wishing to quit the train in an unusual manner; someone who was
+unaware that he was out already. The chances were that he had
+not been noticed; that, if he kept quite still, he would not be
+noticed. The stranger would blunder along without ever becoming
+cognisant of his near neighbourhood; whichever way the stranger
+went, he would go the other.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Now that the train had left, it was very still in the tunnel;
+the air was close, full of smoke, which was bad both for the
+throat and the eyes. Something had dropped once or twice on
+Rodney's shoulder. He had heard that it was sometimes damp in
+tunnels; possibly it was moisture dropping from the brickwork
+overhead. He would have liked to move so as to avoid it, but was
+reluctant to make a sound--till the stranger had moved. He
+wondered what the stranger was doing; silence continued for what
+seemed to him to be a preternatural length of time. Possibly,
+less fortunate than himself, the stranger had been hurt in
+alighting, which explained the stillness. If that were so, his
+own position might be difficult. If he moved first the stranger
+might claim his help, might make a fuss if he refused it--such a
+fuss that the fact that he had left the train would be
+discovered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Still not a sound. Momentarily the situation was becoming more
+delicate. He could not remain crouched down like that for ever,
+with big drops of something falling on to his shoulder. What
+should he do? The question was answered for him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Caught you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The words were whispered close to his ear. He stood straight up
+suddenly, startled half out of his wits. His impulse was to
+fly--anywhere, anyhow. Then that wonderful presence of mind of
+his, which never left him long, came back; he realised that
+haste on his part might involve disaster. He stood bolt upright,
+quite still, with fists clenched, prepared for anything.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Something came; fingers were laid upon his coat-sleeve. He
+showed no sign of resenting their coming, their touch was so
+soft that it hardly suggested danger. A voice came to him
+through the darkness, the one which had so startled him by
+whispering in his ear.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That was a capital idea of yours--capital.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">To Rodney's acute sense of hearing there seemed to be a curious
+quality in the voice; he was not sure if it belonged to a man or
+a woman. It came again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you ever been in a tunnel before? I haven't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The last two words were spoken with a snigger which was
+certainly a man's, though he still felt that the voice itself
+might be either masculine or feminine. He had a fastidious taste
+in voices; apart from the circumstances under which he heard it,
+that one affected him unpleasantly. It continued, and his
+distaste grew.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you know that our getting out here in the tunnel has proved
+something which I have always held as an article of faith;
+that I have cat's eyes--positively? Isn't it droll? I can see
+you--not plainly, but sufficiently well. Now I dare say you
+can't see me at all!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney could not; he did not believe that the stranger could see
+him. Darkness was about them like a wall.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He felt the fingers which had rested on his sleeve slipped under
+his arm.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I will guide you; let me turn you round. We will go this way,
+towards the signal. You see?--it is set at danger. Some people
+would say that we are in rather a dangerous position.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again that unpleasantly sounding snigger.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I hope you're not feeling nervous; you needn't. That signal is
+not far off, and when we reach it we are out in the open. I know
+exactly where we are; this is Redhill tunnel. Not only can I see
+in the dark, dimly, but still see, but I also have, in a curious
+degree, the bump of locality. With me it amounts almost to an
+additional sense. I always know where I am, even when I am in a
+strange place; in a place in which I have been before I have an
+incredible perception of my surroundings. For three years I
+lived quite close to this--in Earlswood Asylum, as a patient.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Earlswood Asylum! Then the creature was a lunatic. That
+explained the singularity of his voice, of his manner, his
+proceedings. An idea came into Rodney's head. The creature was
+small; he felt, as he moved beside him with his hand under his
+arm, that he probably did not reach to his shoulder. It would be
+easy to leave him in the tunnel. Who cares what happens to a
+lunatic?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't if I were you; it wouldn't pay.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The words were so apposite that, despite himself, Rodney
+started. He had not spoken. Could the creature read what was
+passing through his brain?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There are times when I can read people's thoughts just as
+plainly as if they had spoken them out loud, even when I can't
+see their faces--really! Isn't it odd? Oh, I am quite gifted. My
+argument always has been that, in a general way, a lunatic is
+merely abnormal, nothing more. At intervals a cloud settles on
+my brain; I can see, I can feel it coming; then, for an
+indefinite period, I am on the lap of the gods. When it passes
+my senses are more acute than other people's--abnormally acute,
+I know it as a fact. Now you see, as I told you, we are out in
+the open--look! the stars are shining. Look back at the tunnel;
+isn't it a horror of blackness? Like the horror I know. If we
+scramble up that bank we shall probably find a gap in the hedge
+at the top; platelayers often do leave a gap in a hedge close to
+the wall of a tunnel that they may descend to the line. As I
+told you, here's our gap; now, over the fence, and the rest is
+easy sailing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It seemed to Rodney that since he had quitted the train
+something must have happened to him mentally; it was as if, all
+at once, he were playing a part in a dream. In silence, without
+offering the least remonstrance, he had suffered the stranger to
+pilot him out of the tunnel, up the steep bank beyond--to
+dominate him wholly. Now, except that they seemed to be standing
+in an open space of considerable size, he had not the dimmest
+notion of their whereabouts; but to the stranger it all seemed
+plain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That big building on our right's an orphanage--St. Anne's; I
+believe we're on their ground. If we keep straight on to our
+left we shall come to the high road, from which it is only a few
+minutes to Redhill station, whence we shall continue our journey
+to town. Quite an interesting episode this has been, has it not?
+I am indebted to you for much entertainment. I have seldom had
+so much enjoyment in a train, Mr. Elmore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The creature knew his name! How? Who was he? What did it mean?
+Again he was conscious of an impulse to take him by the throat
+and--resolve the question in his own fashion. How came the
+creature to know his name? Although he had uttered no articulate
+sound, he had his answer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The explanation is simple, explanations often are. I heard your
+uncle address you by your name in a most audible tone of voice
+just towards the close. Most people have no idea how thin the
+partition really is which divides one compartment from another.
+Do you know I have heard that in some instances it is made of
+papier-mâché--fancy! You can always hear if a conversation is
+taking place in an adjoining compartment--it is surprising how
+much you can hear if you try, especially if your hearing is as
+good as mine is--that's another of my gifts. I had my ear glued
+to the partition most of the time. Of course, I could not hear
+everything--and I should very much have liked to see, but I
+gathered enough to enable me to form a general idea,
+particularly when you began to use violence towards your uncle
+and to hurl him back into his seat--it amounted to hurling. You
+see, I was his side. And, of course, when you both raised your
+voices I could hear a very great deal. I was not in the least
+surprised at the silence which followed. I understood--oh, I
+understood! At least, I think I understood. It was perfectly
+plain that only one person was left in the compartment who
+counted, and, of course, I knew that was you. I said to myself:
+'Now, I wonder how long he'll stay there all alone? He's sure to
+take advantage of the first opportunity of getting out if the
+train stops or slows, and if he gets out I'll get out too.'
+Wasn't it lucky that it stopped in a tunnel, and that,
+therefore, we were both of us able to get out without being
+observed? Quite a stroke of fortune! Here we are, right on the
+high road, with the station a little more than a stone's throw
+in front of us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney listened to what the stranger had to say as, side by
+side, they tramped across the uneven ground with feelings which
+he would not have found it easy to clothe with words. Beyond all
+doubt this was a lunatic; but of what an uncomfortable kind! He
+had been wiser to have acted on his first impulse and to have
+left him in the tunnel. Now it was too late; it would not be the
+same thing to--leave him there. Yet, if he continued in his
+company, how should he muzzle him? With what would he make him
+dumb? By what means could he keep him from blurting out the
+whole story to the first person they might meet? Once more,
+though he had uttered not a syllable, there came an answer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You run no risk of my blabbing, I am not that kind of
+person--at least, while the cloud is yet afar off. Afterwards,
+believe me, no one pays any heed to what I say. I play the part
+of audience only. I am not, like you, one of Nature's criminals;
+but I am indifferent, which is about the same. What A does to B
+is A's business and B's, not mine; that I always shall maintain.
+Here we are at the station. It's been altered since my time;
+they've given it a new front. When is the next train to town?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He put the question quite naturally to a porter who was standing
+about.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ten-forty; nearly half an hour to wait--that is if she is
+punctual, which she's not always of a Sunday night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stranger addressed himself to Elmore.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That, perhaps, is fortunate, since that will enable me to offer
+you a little refreshment, of which I dare say both of us stand
+in need.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney, always speechless, walked beside the stranger to the
+refreshment bar. Now he could see him plainly. A notion which
+had been fluttering at the back of his head took flight; there
+was no suggestion of a detective police official about him. He
+was shorter even than he had imagined, probably scarcely over
+five feet high; a mean-looking, ill-shapen fellow, with one
+shoulder higher than the other, which gave him an appearance of
+being one-sided. Badly dressed in an ill-fitting suit of rusty
+dark-grey tweed, clumsily shod, tie disarranged, doubtful
+collar, old tweed hat shaped like a billycock, about him the air
+of one who was not over fond of soap and water. Probably between
+fifty and sixty, a round, hairless, wizened face, all wrinkles,
+flat, snub nose, curiously small mouth--Rodney wondered if the
+peculiarity of his voice was owing to its coming through so
+small an aperture; queer, big, oval, ugly eyes--small pupils
+floating in a sea of yellow. The young gentleman was conscious
+of what an ill-assorted couple they must appear. He would have
+liked very much to put a termination to the association then and
+there, but--he could not, it was too late.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stranger on his part seemed sublimely unaware of there being
+anything odd in their companionship. He gave his order to the
+young lady on the other side of the counter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;One brandy, two Scotch whiskies, and a small soda divided.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The young lady looked as if she was not quite sure that she had
+caught what he said.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I beg your pardon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I said one brandy, two Scotch whiskies, and a small soda
+divided. You've quite right, there are only two of us; I take
+brandy and whisky together--I'm a lunatic.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Two young men at the other end, with whom the young lady had
+been talking, looked at each other and smiled. The young lady
+also smiled, under the apparent impression that, somewhere,
+there was a joke.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is rather unusual, isn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not at all--with lunatics.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was not easy for standers-by to decide whether or not he was
+in earnest. Rodney was in doubt; indeed, the man's words and
+manner started him wondering to what extent, in all he had been
+saying, the fellow had been &quot;pulling his leg.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The young lady passed three glasses to their side of the
+counter. The stranger, taking two, emptied one into the other.
+He held it up towards Rodney.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your very good health, and the next time we meet may you afford
+me as much entertainment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Swallowing the contents of the glass at a single gulp, he
+replaced it on the counter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The same again, miss; one brandy, one Scotch whisky; lunatics
+don't take long over a drop like that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She looked at him doubtfully for a moment; then gave him what he
+ordered, saying, as she passed him the glasses:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Two shillings, please.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As again he emptied one into the other he nodded to Rodney.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pay her; I've no money--lunatics never have.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney drank what was in his glass, placed a florin on the
+counter, and left the place without a word. Hardly had he
+reached the door when he found the little man again at his side.
+He commenced pacing up and down the dimly lit platform; the
+little man paced also, two of his short steps being the
+equivalent of one of Rodney's strides. He asked himself if he
+could do nothing to shake the fellow off; with his usual
+singular intuition the other replied to his unspoken thought.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not nice, being in the company of one who knows as much as I
+do? Perhaps not; yet I don't see why. I'm incapable of giving
+evidence; if I weren't I wouldn't say a word to spoil the fun; I
+am as good as a dead man. You'll have a dead man for constant
+companion--why not me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again he gave vent to the snigger which so jarred on the young
+man's nerves. When the train entered the station they were still
+pacing to and fro; Rodney not having yet uttered a single word.
+The little man followed him into the empty first-class
+compartment which he had selected, saying as he drew the door to
+behind him:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Isn't it confiding of me to trust myself alone in a carriage
+with you--after what has happened? But I am not in the least
+afraid. I am sure you won't care to repeat your experiment
+to-night. And I shall find it so amusing to sit and watch you,
+and see what is passing through your mind; because, do you know,
+it will all be just as plain to me as if you said everything
+aloud.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">While crediting the stranger with unusual perceptive powers,
+Rodney doubted if in his assertion he did not go too far. If he
+had the dimmest insight into the tangled network of thought with
+which the young man's brain was filled, then he was a marvel
+indeed. Elmore, leaning back in his seat, remained perfectly
+still, with his face towards the window, to all outward seeming
+as oblivious of the other's presence and occasional remarks as
+if he were not there. When they reached Croydon a person
+approached the carriage window whom the stranger plainly
+recognised; a pleasant-faced, brown-skinned and brown-haired
+young man with a slight moustache, with something in his bearing
+and expression which suggested reserve. Coming into the
+carriage, he said to the stranger, as he sat beside him, half
+smilingly, half chidingly:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So it is you, is it? I hope you've enjoyed your little trip.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stranger seemed to regard his coming with an air of not
+altogether pleased surprise.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're a most extraordinary man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The other replied:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;One has to be a little that way if one is responsible for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The new-comer's good-humoured curtness seemed to disturb the
+stranger's equilibrium.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Responsible for me, indeed! Upon my word, you are the most
+extraordinary man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In his own fashion the stranger introduced the new-comer to
+Rodney.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;This is Dr. Emmett, my medical attendant. I left him behind me
+in Brighton because I am sick and tired of his society; yet here
+he is at Croydon before I am. How he does these things I do not
+understand. He's a most extraordinary man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then, also after his own fashion, he made Rodney known to the
+new-comer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Emmett, this is a valued friend of mine, whom I have met for
+the first time to-night. I know all about him, except his voice;
+and, do you know, he's never spoken once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney, observing the new-comer, perceived, from something which
+was in the glance he gave him in exchange for his, that the
+position had altered. Rising, he moved out of the carriage,
+still without a word. The stranger made as if to follow him, but
+the doctor put out a detaining hand. The train started just as
+Rodney, having gained the platform, was closing the door. The
+last he saw of the interior of the compartment was that the
+stranger seemed to be warmly expostulating with his medical
+attendant. At Redhill Rodney had got into the front part of the
+train--which was for London Bridge--because he felt that between
+the City and Notting Hill he might have an opportunity of
+shaking the stranger off. Now, as the London Bridge coaches
+glided out of the station, he passed to the Victoria half of the
+train, which awaited an engine, lower down the platform. The
+doctor's fortuitous arrival on the scene had saved him, at least
+temporarily, from what might have been a serious predicament.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_12" href="#div1Ref_12">MARKING TIME</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney Elmore's rooms were within a short distance of Paddington
+Station. As his cab drew up at the house he saw that another
+hansom was already at the door. Since it was past midnight, its
+presence was suggestive; it betokened a visitor. The house being
+a small one, there was only one other lodger besides himself,
+and he occupied a modest &quot;bed-sitting-room&quot; on the upper floor.
+His instinct told him that the visitor was for himself. At that
+hour on Sunday night the fact was portentous. Opening the door
+with his latch-key, as he stepped inside a girl came hastening
+towards him from a room at the back, noiselessly, as if she did
+not wish to be overheard, rather a pretty girl, with fluffy,
+fair hair. She spoke in a whisper:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's someone to see you--a lady. She would wait, although I
+told her I didn't know when you would be in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's her name?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;She said Miss Patterson.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He understood--he had been making certain mental calculations as
+he came along. No doubt his uncle would have his name and
+address upon him; his identity would be discovered so soon as
+they searched the body. There had been time to carry the news
+to Russell Square; this was the result. Nodding to the
+fluffy-haired girl, he passed quickly into his sitting-room,
+which was on the left, in the front of the house. Gladys was
+standing by the table. As she came towards him he knew by the
+look which was on her face that his guess had been right--that
+already she knew at least part of the story.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where have you been?&quot; she exclaimed. &quot;I thought you were never
+coming.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Taking both her hands in his, he drew her to him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear child! how could I guess that you were here? What does
+it mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She looked at him with a curious sombre something in her big
+dark eyes, which reminded him of a child who is about to cry.
+Her lips trembled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, dad's dead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His tone was eager, gentle, sympathetic; instinct with surprise.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Dead! You--you don't mean it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In the train.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In the train! What train?&quot; She told her tale, he listening with
+interest, anxiety, tenderness, which were sufficiently real.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I was just going to bed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Dear, you're shivering. You'd better sit down.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'd rather stand--close to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He put his arms about her and held her tight. He kissed her.
+&quot;Sweetheart,&quot; he whispered. He could feel her trembling; tears
+were beginning to shine in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I was in my bedroom, and--and--I was thinking about
+you&quot;--about the corners of her lips was the queerest little
+smile--&quot;when there was a ringing at the front door. I thought it
+was dad, who had forgotten his key; but they came and told me
+that there was a gentleman downstairs who wished to see me very
+particularly about my father, and that it was most important. So
+I slipped on a dressing-jacket and went down to him. It was
+someone from the railway company. They had found dad in the
+carriage of a train which had come from Brighton. He was
+dead--now he was at Victoria Station--he had committed suicide.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Suicide!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney started; it could not have been better done if his
+surprise had been genuine.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's--it's incredible!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can only tell you what the man told me. He said of course
+there would have to be an inquiry, but all the indications
+pointed at that. He had poisoned himself; in his hand they had
+found a box in which were some more of the things with which he
+had done it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can only say that to me it seems--it does seem impossible. I
+should have said he was the last person to do anything like
+that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You never can tell what sort of person will do a thing like
+that. I once knew a girl who went straight up after dinner to
+her bedroom and--did it; no one ever knew why. I went with the
+man to Victoria, and--saw dad; I've come right on from there. I
+felt that I couldn't go home till I had seen you. I believe I
+should have stayed here all night if you hadn't come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You poor little thing!--sweetheart mine!--you only woman in the
+world!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You--you will be good to me, Rodney?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never was man better to a woman than I will try to be to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Suppose--suppose dad did it because he was ruined?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear girl, as you are aware, I was not in your father's
+confidence--still, I am pretty nearly certain that,
+commercially, it will be found that he was all right. Yet,
+should it turn out that he was even worse than penniless, it
+will not make a mite of difference in my love for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are sure?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Absolutely. Aren't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do believe you care for me a little, or--I shouldn't be
+here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A little! You--you bad girl; you dearest, sweetest of darlings!
+Between ourselves, if it does turn out that you're no richer
+than I am, I shan't be sorry. He never did want you to have
+anything to do with me. I might have won him over if he had
+lived; you know, I believe he was commencing to like me a little
+better. I'm not sure that I wouldn't sooner have you without his
+money; I should feel as if I were playing the game.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It will be horrid if he has left nothing; it will perhaps mean
+a scandal, and things are bad enough as they are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I see what you have in your mind, but I assure you you need not
+have the slightest fear. I'll stake my own integrity that in all
+matters of business your father had the highest sense of honour.
+I'll be willing to write myself down a rogue if it can be shown
+that he ever deviated in any particular from the highest
+standard of commercial rectitude.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I hope you're right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am right, on that point you may rest assured.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know, Rodney, you're all I have in the world--now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The use of the adverb, in that connection, tickled him. The idea
+that, so far as she was concerned, her father ever had been much
+of a personal asset was distinctly funny. However, he allowed no
+hint of how her words struck him to peep out; never a more
+ardent lover, a more present help in the time of a girl's
+trouble. He escorted her to what bade henceforward to be her
+lonely home in the cab which still waited at the door. When he
+returned to Paddington it was very late. As he moved to his
+bedroom up the darkened staircase a door opened on the landing.
+The fluffy-haired girl looked out. She was in a state of
+considerable <i>déshabillé</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are late,&quot; she whispered. &quot;I thought you never were coming
+back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You goose.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He put his arms about her and kissed her with the calmest
+proprietary air.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To think that you should be still awake.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You knew I should sit up; you knew mother wasn't coming back
+to-night, and you said you'd be in early.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She spoke with an air of grievance. He smiled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's been a case of man proposes. I have had many things to
+contend with--all sorts of worries. Now, as I want breakfast
+early, I'm going to bed, and, I hope, to sleep, if you aren't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You don't care for me a bit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He kissed her again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She waited on him at breakfast, which, as he had forewarned her,
+he had unusually early. She was his landlady's daughter; her
+name was Mabel Joyce. Among his letters was one from Stella
+Austin. He opened it as she placed before him his bacon and
+eggs; as he glanced at Stella's opening lines Miss Joyce talked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So you went to Brighton yesterday--by the Pullman, too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He looked up at her as if surprised.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did I? Who told you that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Didn't you?&quot;</p>
+
+ class="normal"&quot;You say I did. Pray, from what quarter did you get your
+information?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, there are plenty of quarters from which I can get
+information--when I like. And your uncle was in Brighton. It
+doesn't look as if he had a very pleasant day there, as he
+committed suicide in the train on the way back to town. I dare
+say you had a pleasanter day than he did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I presume you got that information either from this morning's
+paper or else from listening last night outside the door.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As it happens, I haven't seen a paper, and, as for listening,
+if you don't know I wouldn't do a thing like that it's no use my
+saying so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then who was your informant?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's my business. There is a little bird which sometimes
+whispers in my ear. Did you come back in the Pullman?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He replied to her question with another.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the matter with you, Mabel?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What should be? Nothing's the matter; I was only thinking that
+if you did, your uncle must have been in the train just behind
+you. If you'd have known what he was doing you'd have felt
+funny. Still, if you did come by the Pullman, considering that
+it's due at Victoria at ten, and yesterday was quite punctual,
+since you had promised to be in early, and knew that I was all
+alone in the house, I think you might have been back before
+midnight.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He eyed the girl. She was pretty, in a pink-and-white sort of
+way; fonder of him than was good for her. He had never seen her
+in this shrewish mood before.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Mabel, if I could have got back earlier I would have
+done so; but I couldn't. I was the sufferer, not you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I dare say! I suppose that Miss Patterson was your cousin. Are
+you going to marry her?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Really! you jump about! How do you suppose a fellow in my
+position can tell whom he's going to marry--on twopence a year?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I dare say she's got money, especially now. Since directly she
+heard of her father's death she came tearing round to you, at
+that time of night, it looks as if you ought to marry her if you
+don't!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Miss Joyce flounced out of the room. For some moments he sat
+considering her words. Who told her that he went to Brighton, on
+the Pullman? Was it a lucky guess? Hardly; probably someone had
+seen him. People's eyes were everywhere. He would have to be
+careful what tale he told. It was odd how gingerly one had to
+walk when one was in a delicate position; there were so many
+unseen strings over which one might stumble.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As he ate his breakfast he read Stella's letter. It was a girl's
+first letter to her lover; which is apt to be a wonderful
+production, as in this case. He had not supposed that a letter
+from Stella could have stirred him as that one did. It suggested
+the perfect love which casteth out fear. She bared her simple
+heart to him in perfect trust and confidence, showing in every
+line that, to her, he was both hero and king, that man of
+men,--her husband that was to be. Tears actually stood in his
+eyes as he realised the pathos of it all; how sweet to hold such
+innocence in his arms. He was not sure that he had not been
+over-hasty in concluding that here was no wife for him. The
+picture which, as he read on, quite unwittingly she presented to
+his mind's eye, of the two wandering hand in hand down the vale
+of years, to the goal of venerable old age at the end, moved him
+to the depths. It was sweet to be so trusted; he would have
+loved to have her with him at the breakfast-table then. It was
+so dear a letter that he kissed it as he folded it, and slipped
+it into the inside pocket of his coat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then he set himself to thinking. Part of the point of Stella's
+letter lay in the fact that she expected him to go to her that
+night, and wished him to know all the things she set down in
+black and white, so that they might be able to talk about them
+when he came. The misfortune was that he was not going. He would
+have liked to go--truly. He felt that after what had happened
+lately an evening spent with Stella would be delicious. So
+strongly did he feel this that he cast about in his mind for
+some means of ensuring himself even a few fleeting minutes in
+her society; but could hit on none. Accident might befriend him,
+but he doubted if Gladys would give accident much chance. He had
+promised that he would go from the office straight to her; it
+might go ill with him if he did not. Once with her, she was not
+likely to let him go again till it was too late to think of
+Stella.
+How appease the maiden for her disappointment? He could think of
+nothing but laying stress on the dreadful thing which had
+happened to his uncle, and putting all the blame on that. He had
+never mentioned his cousin to Stella, or to Mary, or to anyone,
+being of those who, if they can help it, do not like their first
+finger to know what their thumb is doing. Stella did not know he
+had a feminine relative; it might be inconvenient to acquaint
+her with the fact just now; quite possibly her soft heart might
+move her to go and offer the orphaned Gladys consolation. He
+smiled as the droll side of such a possibility tickled his sense
+of humour. Possibly the time might come when the two young women
+would have to know of each other's existence, but--perhaps it
+might be as well to put it off for awhile.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He scribbled a hasty note to Stella, speaking of the rapture her
+letter had given him, and dwelling, in lurid hues, on the
+tragedy of his uncle's end; then suddenly remembered that, from
+her point of view, he ought not to have heard of it. What a
+number of trifles one did have to think of. He had not seen a
+paper; he did not propose to tell her of his trip to Brighton;
+she had heard nothing of Gladys; she might ask some awkward
+questions as to how he came to know about it so early in the
+day. He tore the note up and made a bonfire of the pieces. Then
+he scribbled another, in which he only spoke of his rapture and
+of the ecstatic longing with which he looked forward to seeing
+her after his office work was done, and of how the intervening
+seconds would go by like leaden hours--he felt that a poetic
+touch of that sort was the least that was required. Then, when
+he reached the office, he might wire her the dreadful tidings in
+an agitated telegram, and, later, in a still more agitated
+telegram, inform her that one awful consequence of the upheaval
+which had followed the hideous tragedy was that he would be
+unable to come to her to-night. The tale would be much more
+effective told like that. Whatever her feelings were, he did not
+see how a loophole would be left to her to lay blame on him.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_13" href="#div1Ref_13">SPREADING HIS WINGS</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">A disagreeable surprise awaited him when he reached St. Paul's
+Churchyard. Taking it for granted that everything would now
+belong to Gladys, he was prepared to act as her representative
+and sole relative, and, if needs be, carry things off with a
+high hand--above and beyond all else, he was desirous of gaining
+access to certain documents whose existence constituted a peril
+to him. To that end he arrived before his usual time, being
+conscious that this was an occasion on which it might be an
+advantage to be first on the field. To his disgust he found that
+at least two persons were in front of him, and that they were
+both in what had been his uncle's private room. One was Mr.
+Andrews, the managing man, the other was a square-jawed
+individual, whose blue cheeks pointed to a life-long struggle
+with a refractory beard. He was seated, as one in authority, in
+his uncle's own chair behind his uncle's own table. They were
+busily conversing as Rodney came unannounced into the room, but
+paused to stare at him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;This,&quot; explained Mr. Andrews to the man in the chair, &quot;is Mr.
+Rodney Elmore--the nephew I was telling you about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a lack of deference in the speaker's tone which the
+young gentleman resented, and had resented in silence more than
+once in the days which were past; but the time for silence was
+gone. He had been making up his mind on that point on his way to
+the City. Recognising, from the bearing of the two men in front
+of him, that a new and, as yet, unknown factor bade fair to
+figure on the scene, with characteristic readiness he arrived at
+an instant resolution. Ignoring Andrews, he addressed himself to
+the man in the chair.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;May I ask, sir, who you are?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stranger's penetrating eyes were set deep in his head; he
+fixed them on the young gentleman's face with a steady stare of
+evident surprise. Rodney returned him stare for stare.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You may ask, young gentleman, and, though I seriously doubt if
+you are entitled to ask, I don't mind telling you. My name is
+Wilkes--Stephen Wilkes; I am your late uncle's legal adviser,
+and am here to safeguard the interests he has left behind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then, Mr. Wilkes, be so good as to get out of that chair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Andrews looked at the speaker in shocked amazement.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Elmore! You forget yourself! How dare you speak like that
+to a gentleman in Mr. Wilkes's position.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For answer, Rodney turned to the managing man, addressing him as
+curtly and peremptorily as if he had been some menial servant.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Andrews, leave the room!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The other's eyes opened still wider; probably he had never been
+so spoken to before, even by his late master in his most
+irascible moods. He drew up his spare and rather bowed figure
+with what he perhaps meant to be a touch of dignity.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Elmore, the consequences will be very serious if you talk
+to me like that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The consequences will be very serious if you don't obey my
+orders.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your orders?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My orders. Are you going to leave the room, or am I to put you
+out?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Steady, young gentleman, steady. I have been your uncle's legal
+adviser for perhaps more years than you have been in the world,
+and am, therefore, intimately acquainted with his wishes. I am
+here to see those wishes carried out. I understand that you
+occupied a very humble position in this office, and, though
+accident made you his relative, you were not in possession of
+your uncle's confidence. Your position is in no way altered by
+his death, and you have no right to issue what you call orders
+here--emphatically not to Mr. Andrews. If there is any question
+as to who is to leave the room, it is certainly not Mr. Andrews
+who must go, but you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Wilkes, I do not propose to bandy words, and when I have
+once pointed out that you entirely misapprehend the situation on
+that subject I have done. All that Mr. Patterson had is now his
+daughter's, including this business and all that it implies. I
+am here as Miss Patterson's representative.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed! By whom appointed?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;By Miss Patterson. I may inform you that Miss Patterson will
+shortly be my wife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is that so? This is news. Since when has that arrangement been
+made?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your words imply a sneer and an impertinence. That being so, I
+decline to enter into any further details with you beyond a bare
+statement of the fact.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you not taking too much for granted in asserting that
+everything is left to Miss Patterson?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have not a doubt of it; with the exception, possibly, of some
+small legacies. He left a will?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is it in your possession?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then I must ask you to produce it at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Produce it? To whom?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To me. Miss Patterson has instructed me to request you to hand
+it over at once to my keeping.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then, if that is so, I am afraid that, for the moment, I have
+no choice but to ignore the young lady's request. I will see
+Miss Patterson.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Miss Patterson will decline to see you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;She will decline to see me? On what grounds?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is not necessary that she should state any grounds. Any
+communication you wish to have with Miss Patterson must be
+through me or her solicitor. Do I understand that you finally
+refuse to do as she requests, and hand me her father's will?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you were not a very young man, Mr. Elmore, I should say that
+you were a foolish one; but possibly youth is your extenuation.
+The will will be produced at the proper time, in the proper
+place, to the proper person; it will certainly not be handed to
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then Miss Patterson's solicitor will at once take steps which
+will compel its instant production.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Miss Patterson's solicitor? You really are a remarkable young
+man! I am Miss Patterson's solicitor. It was her father's wish
+that I should continue to act for her, as I acted for him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You will do nothing of the kind. If Mr. Patterson has left any
+legal powers to that effect, his daughter will resort to every
+process of law to effect your removal; your refusal to withdraw
+will not redound to your credit. You say you have been his legal
+adviser for more years than I am old. Mr. Patterson was a bad
+husband and a bad father. He utterly neglected his daughter; he
+did nothing to show that he had any of a parent's natural
+feelings; although she respected his every wish and he had no
+complaint to make of her, he was wholly indifferent to both her
+welfare and her happiness; he saw as little of her and did as
+little for her as he could. In many respects he was to her both
+a reproach and a shame, the sole object of his existence being
+his own gross physical enjoyment. Without being, perhaps, what
+is called an habitual drunkard, he habitually drank too much,
+and was frequently intoxicated in her presence. He was an
+evil-liver--with his relations with notorious women you are
+probably better acquainted than I am; she, unfortunately, has
+good reason to know that they were of a discreditable kind. To
+crown an ill-spent career he has taken his own life, under
+circumstances which can hardly fail to be the cause of scandal,
+which may leave a brand on her for the remainder of her life,
+though she is still only a girl. You apparently pride yourself
+on having been confidential adviser to such a man through a
+great number of years. Is it strange, therefore, that she would
+rather that somebody else should advise her? Think it over; you
+will yourself perceive that it is not strange; I am sure that
+will be the feeling of a court of law. Now, Mr. Wilkes, I must
+again ask you to get out of that chair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And if I refuse?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney moved to the other side of the table, took Mr.
+Wilkes--who was not a big man--by either elbow, lifted him as if
+he were a child, and deposited himself on the chair in his
+place. The solicitor, who had made not the slightest show of
+resistance, stood ruefully rubbing his arms.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I believe you have put both my elbows out of joint, you young
+ruffian.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney was placidity itself.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you never heard of Jiu-jitsu, Mr. Wilkes? You know even
+better than I do that you are a trespasser on these premises,
+and that a trespasser is a person towards whom one is entitled
+to use all necessary force.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Taking a bunch of keys out of his jacket pocket, he inserted one
+in the lock of the drawer which was in front of him. Mr. Wilkes
+surveyed the proceeding with obvious surprise.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What keys are those?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;These are my uncle's keys. They were handed to me by Miss
+Patterson, with instructions to go through her father's private
+papers and documents, and so ensure their not being tampered
+with by persons who certainly have not her interest at heart.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you take my earnest advice, young gentleman, you will not
+touch anything which is in those drawers. If you are not careful
+you will go too far.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I will not take your advice, Mr. Wilkes--whether earnest or
+otherwise. I observe, Andrews, that you are still there. There
+are one or two remarks which I wish to make to Mr. Wilkes in
+private. Once more, are you going to leave this room?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The managing man looked at the lawyer as if for advice and help
+in the moment of his hesitation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps,&quot; said Mr. Wilkes, replying to his unspoken question,
+&quot;you had better go. You will commit yourself to nothing by
+going.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Whereas,&quot; observed Elmore, with his smiling glance fixed on the
+managing man, &quot;you will commit yourself to a good deal by not
+going, because I shall not only put you out of this door, but
+into the street. So far as this office is concerned, that will
+be the end of you. I will take steps which will ensure your
+never entering it again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">After another brief moment of hesitation, with a glance of what
+was very like reproach towards the lawyer, Andrews quitted the
+room, with the air of one who was both bewildered and hurt. So
+soon as he had gone Mr. Wilkes observed:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Elmore, you are taking a very great deal upon yourself; you
+certainly have the courage of youth, but be warned by me, don't
+take too much. If it is shown that your uncle's depositions are
+not what you are taking it for granted they are, your position
+will be rendered more difficult by the attitude you are now
+taking up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I care nothing for any warning which comes from you, Mr.
+Wilkes. Why did my uncle commit suicide?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What do you mean by asking me such a question? Do you imagine
+that if I knew I should tell you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Does that mean that you know?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It means nothing of the sort; but it does mean that if I had
+any such secret knowledge, the only person to whom I should
+breathe a word of it would be his daughter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That you certainly would not do. Miss Patterson's heartfelt
+prayer is that she may never know. That he had some shameful
+reason is plain; if it can be kept from her it shall be; if it
+reaches her through you, you will deserve to be whipped.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Elmore, I knew your father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's more, Mr. Wilkes, than I ever did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;His end was like your uncle's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So I learned from my uncle before--he ended. And it is because
+the shame of what he did seems to rest on me, in the mouths of
+such as you, that I am resolved to shield my cousin--if I can. I
+imagine that, in a strictly scientific sense, you are, in part,
+responsible for my uncle's fate.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How do you arrive at that--somewhat startling conclusion?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You aided and abetted him in what he did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed! As how?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I happen to know that you were more than once his companion
+when he was in the society of certain notorious women, with
+whose character you were undoubtedly as well acquainted as he
+was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And if I was--what then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If, on more than one occasion, A is in the company of B when B
+is in the act of committing a crime, what is the inference we
+draw as regards A?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You really are a remarkable young man!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;More. On more than one occasion you have borrowed money from
+Mr. Patterson.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We have had business relations for many years.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did he ever borrow money from you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No; because he did not do the class of business I did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Exactly. At this moment you are his debtor in a considerable
+sum.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know from whom you get your information, but if it is
+from your uncle you must be perfectly well aware that the whole
+matter is on a proper footing, and that there can be no
+reasonable doubt as to my fulfilling my engagements both in the
+letter and the spirit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Still, you have been in the habit of borrowing money from your
+client, sometimes, I believe, to save yourself from a difficult
+position. Possibly his will contains a clause relieving you of
+your indebtedness; possibly, also, a court of law will see its
+way to relieve Miss Patterson from any obligation to accept your
+services. I will not detain you any longer, Mr. Wilkes. Good
+morning. Please don't gossip with the employés as you go out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Wilkes looked as if he would have said a good deal; but Mr.
+Elmore had already begun to write a letter--there was an air of
+complete indifference about him which apparently brought him to
+the conclusion that it might perhaps be as well to say nothing.
+He took his hat off the table and went out in silence. Presently
+Rodney, ringing the bell, said to the lad who answered:
+&quot;Take that letter to the address which is on the envelope at
+once, and bring me an answer; also tell Mr. Andrews that I wish
+to speak to him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Shortly the managing man appeared in the doorway. One felt that
+he had hesitated whether or not to come, and that he was
+oppressed by something like a sense of shame at the thought of
+having yielded. The young gentleman, leaning back, regarded him
+with the pleasant little smile which, so far, had not left
+him--it was odd of what a number of subtle inflections his
+manner was capable without once disturbing the smile.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Sit down, Andrews; take this chair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The other did as he was told, sitting on the extreme edge,
+leaning slightly forward, his long legs crooked in front of him,
+his hands resting on his knees.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How old are you, Andrews?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Instead of replying to the question, the managing man started
+off on a line of his own.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Elmore, you must excuse my remarking that, so far as I am
+concerned, I don't understand the position at all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You will, Andrews, shortly. I always have felt that your mental
+processes were perhaps a trifle slow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have been in this office, boy and man, practically my whole
+life long; I'm older than your uncle was, and I was here before
+he came. He was with Harding and Fletcher before he took this
+business over, and, so to speak, he took me with it. It was a
+solid business then, and it's a solid business still--indeed,
+it's even better than it was. I'm almost--if not quite--as well
+known in the City as he was; he would have been the first to
+tell you that with the continued success I have had something to
+do. He was, in some ways, a difficult man to deal with; but no
+man had a better head for business--if he gave his confidence,
+you might be sure it was deserved, and he had entire confidence
+in me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hear, hear! Go on; I like to hear you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When he said a thing he meant it. It's always been a joke
+among those who knew him that Graham Patterson's word was as
+good as a bank-note. He has told me more than once that when he
+was gone----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He anticipated going?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not more than other men; only, he was methodical and liked to
+have everything in order, and, if he could help it, leave
+nothing to chance. He has told me, as I have said, more than
+once, that when he was gone--since he only had a daughter--he
+had arranged that the whole management of the business should be
+in my hands, and that he had left me a small share in it. He
+said, frankly, some time ago that he would give me a share in it
+then and there; if it weren't that he was the kind of man who
+never would get on with a partner; and that was the case--often
+he was difficult. I am sure, from what he told me, that it will
+be found that he has left the management of the business in my
+hands, as well as a share. What I don't understand, therefore,
+is on what grounds you are taking up the position you appear to
+be doing. I am far from wishing to have any unpleasantness with
+you, Mr. Elmore, but I do not understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I represent Miss Patterson.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But I represent the business--which was her father's, not
+hers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But it's hers now, you yourself admit that you only expect to
+be left a small share.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But I'm left the management.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's--I am far from wishing to have any unpleasantness with
+you, Mr. Andrews, but--you must know that that's all tuppence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pray, Mr. Elmore, what do you mean by that? A will's a will;
+its terms are not to be lightly set aside.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You have not told me how old you are, Mr. Andrews, but you have
+told me that you are my uncle's senior.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So far as head for business goes, I am as young as ever I was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I will not contradict you. I am inclined to think that you are
+as you were--thirty, forty years ago--that is, in a commercial
+sense, a thousand years behind the times.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You have no right to say that. What do you know about
+business--a young man like you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am a man of business, Mr. Andrews.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I was not aware of it until this moment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You will be more clearly aware of it before long. I was
+prepared to marry my cousin had she been penniless, as only the
+other day--if she married me--she bade fair to be. In that event
+I would have made her fortune, and my own, as sure as you are
+sitting there. As events have turned out, so far from being
+penniless, she is, shall we say, the three-fourths proprietor of
+a flourishing business, with, probably, all the capital at her
+command which is needed for its development. Under such
+circumstances, why should I not devote my energies to the
+aggrandisement of her business? If I do, do you suppose for one
+instant--will or no will--that the management of affairs will be
+in your hands? That you will lead, and I shall follow? Absurd,
+Andrews; the business has reached a stage at which it can branch
+out advantageously in a dozen different directions.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I believe there's something in what you say--if it's in the
+hands of the right man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am the right man! In the case of equipment of the modern man
+of business, if he has a head upon his shoulders, youth is his
+strongest card--it assures his being abreast of the procession.
+I know what can be done with this business, and it shall be
+done; I'll do it. In ten years it shall rank among the greatest
+of its kind in the City of London--in the world; if you live
+till then you'll own it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm a bachelor. I've saved enough to keep me in comfort. The
+business has been to me both wife and child, I could not love it
+better if it were my own. If I were sure that it would grow and
+flourish, always on a solid basis, I shouldn't care so much
+about myself; but it would break my heart, if, for any cause
+whatever, it were to go to pieces.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It won't; you'll see. We'll talk about it again when the exact
+conditions of my uncle's will are known. Whatever they turn out
+to be, I shouldn't be surprised if you and I get on better
+together than at this moment you may suppose--you'll find that I
+like to get on with everyone. By the way, there is one
+disagreeable matter which, if we are to arrive at a perfect
+understanding, I ought to speak to you about. Are you aware that
+during the last few years various small acts of dishonesty have
+taken place in this office?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Elmore! I never heard of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My uncle knew; he was speaking to me on the subject only a day
+or two ago. I fancy he even knew who the culprit was. He told me
+that there were proofs of what he more than hinted at locked up
+in one of his drawers. It was because of what he said that I was
+so anxious to go through his papers before anyone else could get
+at them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I hope, Mr. Elmore, you are not imputing dishonesty to me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To you, my good Andrews! Do you think I don't know an honest
+man when I see one? In that respect I am like my uncle. I am as
+sure as I am sure of anything that you are as honest a man as I
+am--rest quite easy on that score. I only wished to point out
+that while you supposed yourself to be keeping a sharp eye on
+everything, and that nothing which took place in the office
+escaped your notice, these irregularities were taking place
+beneath your very nose. However, on that subject also I may have
+to speak to you again later. Still another point. The inquest on
+my uncle is to be held to-day at Victoria Station. As you will
+readily understand, Miss Patterson is not in a condition to
+appear at such an inquiry, if her presence can be dispensed
+with; we are advised it can. She wishes me to ask you if you
+will appear at the inquiry, and give such formal evidence as may
+be required. I don't know what questions will be asked you.
+Frankly, can you throw any light on any cause which may have
+induced his rash act? I take it he had no financial reason?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Absolutely none, of that I'm convinced. He had all the money he
+wanted, and there was nothing wrong with the business. It's a
+mystery to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I fancy it will remain a mystery. Why some men and women make
+away with themselves is a mystery which only they themselves
+could have solved.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't understand why you and he didn't get on better
+together.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nor I; to me it was a great disappointment. As you have said,
+he was difficult. He may have felt that my ideas on business
+matters were different from his, and didn't like it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps if he had lived it would have been different.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We shall never know what, in that case, might have happened.
+May I take it that, in the matter of the inquest, you will do as
+Miss Patterson asks?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I will--certainly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you. You increase the debt which she is conscious she
+owes you as her father's right-hand man, and which, whatever the
+terms of his will may be, she will never forget.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lad entered to whom he had entrusted the letter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Parmiter has come back with me, sir; he's outside.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good; show him in. I think, Mr. Andrews, that, as the inquest
+is timed for noon, you had better be starting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The old man went out, and a young one came into the room--a
+young man, with a student's face and fair hair. Although his
+cheeks were pale, his appearance was not unprepossessing. Elmore
+greeted him with outstretched hands.
+&quot;Clarence, old man, it's very good of you to come right away
+like this. I hope it's not seriously inconvenienced you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not a bit. Between ourselves, I was sitting in the office
+twiddling my thumbs and wondering what I should do now I'd
+finished reading the paper.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll give you something to do. Sit down. You've heard what's
+happened to my uncle?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I remember your telling me you were with an uncle, but I don't
+know how many uncles you have nor to which of them you're
+referring.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have, or, rather, had, only one uncle, and last night he
+committed suicide in the Brighton train.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Great Scott! Whatever for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's it. I'll tell you in as few words as possible what the
+position is. He's left a daughter, an only child, who is now an
+orphan, to whom I'm engaged to be married. To her he was
+not--well, all that a father might have been; he drank, and he
+womanised.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did he? Nice man!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's precisely what he was not--a nice man. She knew very
+little about his private affairs, though quite as much as she
+wanted. He may have killed himself because he was financially
+wrong, though, personally, I doubt it, or for any one of a score
+of reasons. You'll guess the state of mind she's in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Naturally; in a case like that it's those who are left who
+suffer most.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course. She's anxious, before all else, to know where she
+stands--that is, to know the worst. His affairs were in the
+hands of a solicitor named Wilkes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I know him--Stephen Wilkes; he's an able man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Maybe. But she doesn't want him for her solicitor all the same
+for that, for reasons on which, later, I may enlarge. She's
+asked me if I knew anyone who would act for her. I suggested
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, Rodney. You always were a fellow who'd do a chap a
+good turn if you would.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nonsense! Do you think that I don't know you--even in the old
+schooldays? You're as clever a man as you'd be likely to meet in
+a long day's journey, and as dependable. You mayn't have the
+largest practice in London to-day, but you will have. What's
+more, I'd trust you with my bottom dollar, which is more than
+you can say of the general run of solicitors nowadays. I told
+her so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll try my best to prove worthy of your commendation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've no fear of that, not the least. You may consider Miss
+Patterson your client, and me; and we may both of us turn out to
+be quite good clients before we've done. I've asked you to come
+here in order to give you your first instructions.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm all ears.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Wilkes is in possession of my uncle's will; he himself says
+so. Miss Patterson wanted him to hand it over to me to pass on
+to her, but he declined. Can't you persuade him, acting on Miss
+Patterson's behalf, to produce the will at the earliest possible
+moment--say this afternoon at four, in her house in Russell
+Square--and make known its contents then and there? She'll not
+sleep till she knows the worst.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can try what my persuasive powers will do. Presumably he
+knows its contents?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Presumably, since it is even probable that he drew it up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;By it he may be appointed to some office of trust.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Exactly. That's one of the things she wants to know; because,
+if he is, she'll leave no stone unturned to get him out of it.
+His relations with her father were such that she'll not be
+induced to have relations of any kind with him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I see; that's how it is. Persons may be interested whose
+presence he may think desirable at the reading and who are not
+accessible at such short notice.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's nothing in that, Clarence. Candidly, some woman may be
+interested; it's only surmise on my part, but it's possible, and
+her presence would neither be essential nor advisable. There's
+the feeling that whatever her father may have done, Wilkes will
+not be considering her interests only--that's why she wants you.
+Get him to attend this afternoon in Russell Square with the
+will; that'll prove to her that I knew what I was about in
+suggesting you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll do my utmost, but you clearly understand that I can't
+force the man. There's an etiquette in such matters; he'll be
+perfectly in order if he stands on it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do your best, Clarence--that's all I ask, and, if possible, let
+me know how it's going to be inside an hour. I want to keep Miss
+Patterson posted in what is taking place. If you only knew what
+a state of mind she's in!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When Mr. Parmiter had gone, Rodney, having given instructions
+that, if it could be avoided, he was not to be disturbed,
+subjected the contents of the drawers in his uncle's
+writing-table to a thorough examination. He came across
+some interesting items. There was a small leather-bound
+memorandum-book, which was locked. He opened it with a key which
+was on his uncle's private bunch. In a flap attached to the
+cover were some cheques which had been duly presented and paid
+and some other papers. A glance at the contents of the book
+showed that they principally related to him, after a fashion
+which occasioned him surprise, blended with amusement. He had no
+idea that in his uncle the detective instinct had been so
+strongly developed. He tore the cheques and other papers into
+tiny bits, made a bonfire of them on an iron shovel, and ground
+the ashes into powder. The book itself he slipped into his
+jacket pocket. In one of the drawers was a canvas bag,
+containing quite a number of gold coins, while in a letter-case
+were several bank-notes. He put the bag into another of his
+pockets, just as it was, and transferred the notes to a
+letter-case of his own. He chanced just then to be hard pressed
+for ready cash, as, indeed, was his every-day condition. Should
+certain eventualities arise, the possession of that money might
+prove to be of the very first importance. In still another
+drawer he found an envelope which was endorsed, in his uncle's
+handwriting, &quot;Draft of my Will.&quot; He studied the sheet of ruled
+foolscap which he took out of it with every appearance of
+absorbed interest. It was not a very lengthy document. When he
+had read it he laid it on the table, drew a long breath, and
+smiled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's all right! It mayn't be all that Gladys would have liked
+it to be, but it might have been so much worse; it will serve. A
+good deal may depend on the exact wording; but, anyhow, between
+us we ought to be able to shape a will like that so that it
+shall mean, in the not very far-off future, that I shall be a
+millionaire--unless I'm a greater fool than I suppose. I'd like
+to wager a trifle that in me there's the stuff that goes to the
+making of a modern millionaire, and if the will as it stands is
+on those lines, it ought to give me at least an outside chance
+of proving it. Here's to you, Uncle P., and, if people can see
+from the other side, how happy the knowledge that your daughter
+and your business are in such capable hands should make you.&quot;
+A lad came in with an envelope.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A messenger boy has just brought this, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The note within ran:</p>
+<br>
+<div style="margin-left:5%">
+<p class="normal">&quot;<span class="sc">Dear Rodney</span>,--I have carried out your first instructions to the
+letter, so I have begun well. Mr. Wilkes will be in Russell
+Square this afternoon at four with the will. Unless I hear from
+you to the contrary, I shall be there at half-past three--to be
+introduced to Miss Patterson, to receive any further
+instructions, and to be at hand in case I am wanted generally.
+You might let me have a message by bearer.--Yours sincerely,</p>
+
+<p style="text-indent:50%">&quot;<span class="sc">Clarence Parmiter</span>.&quot;</p>
+</div>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_14" href="#div1Ref_14">BUSINESS FIRST, PLEASURE AFTERWARDS</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">That afternoon there were five persons in the drawing-room of
+the house in Russell Square. Miss Patterson, who was already
+attired in garments of orthodox hue, in which Rodney felt that
+she did not look her best. It is your fair, slender women who
+appear to advantage in black--she was too big and dark. There
+was Rodney, who was also in mourning, which did become him; but,
+then, anything became him. He was one of your tall, graceful,
+well-set-up, debonair, handsome young fellows whom any tailor
+might find it worth his while to dress at reduced prices for the
+sake of the advertisement. The other three men also were in
+black: Mr. Wilkes's dark blue cheeks almost matching his attire;
+Mr. Parmiter's light hair and pale face standing out in marked
+relief; Mr. Andrews's general air of colourlessness causing his
+sombre attire to make him seem older than it need have done. The
+proceedings were short--unexpectedly short--and to the point.
+Mr. Wilkes had met Miss Patterson before, and while her almost
+sullen manner suggested no fondness for him, his brusqueness
+hinted at no particular attachment for her. The keen-eyed
+Rodney, observing their demeanour, told himself that the lawyer
+had been too much the father's friend to care overmuch for the
+child, which was, perhaps, as well, since it might make things
+easier.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The inquest was already over. Mr. Wilkes had been present, and
+had taken with him a physician whom he was aware that Graham
+Patterson had consulted. He testified that Mr. Patterson was
+suffering from a malady which would certainly have grown more
+painful as time went on, and was probably incurable. This
+statement, since it supplied the motive, caused the inquiry to
+assume briefer limits than it might have done; the obvious
+inference was that the knowledge of his parlous state had
+prompted Graham Patterson to take his fate into his own hands.
+Nothing could have been clearer to such men of the world as the
+coroner and his jury. All else that was said and done was mere
+formality. The doctor who had conducted the autopsy, Mr.
+Andrews, a police officer connected with the railway company,
+the guard of the train--all these gave formal evidence. The
+latter said that he had seen the deceased man come running down
+the platform at Brighton station just as the train was about to
+start; that he had noticed him getting into a carriage; that he
+recognised him when, at East Croydon, his attention had been
+called to him by the ticket collector, who, going to collect his
+ticket, found him sitting up in the corner of the carriage,
+dead. In view of the physician's evidence, the whole affair was
+so transparently simple that no one thought of asking if anyone
+was in the compartment when he entered it at Brighton station.
+One of the jury did inquire if the train stopped between
+Brighton and East Croydon. When he was informed that it
+did not, it was generally felt that there was nothing more
+to be said. The hackneyed verdict was recorded as a matter of
+course--suicide while temporarily insane.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The whole affair struck Rodney, when he learnt all the
+particulars from Andrews, as distinctly droll. He realised that
+he owed Mr. Wilkes a debt of gratitude of which that gentleman
+had no notion. The physician had been an unknown quantity;
+Rodney, who, through devious channels, had heard of a good many
+things, had never heard of him. Had not the lawyer brought him
+on to the scene the situation might easily have become very much
+more difficult--for him. He would not be so hard on Stephen
+Wilkes as he had meant to be, but in his treatment of him would
+recognise that, as Parmiter had put it, he was an able man.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The will was the usual wordy, legal document. Stripped of its
+verbiage it was plain enough. It began with the legacies. A
+sufficient sum was to be set apart to buy an annuity of one
+hundred pounds a year for Agnes Sybil Armstrong, of an address
+at Hove. She was also to have five hundred pounds in cash and
+the furniture of the house in which she was residing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gladys, who had been warned by Rodney that she might expect
+something of the kind, pursed her lips together and looked at
+her cousin. Sitting with expectant eyes fixed on her, he had
+been waiting for her look, and greeted it with a reassuring
+smile.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Various legacies were left to servants in Russell Square, to
+clerks in St. Paul's Churchyard, and to certain trade charities.
+Five thousand pounds was left to Stephen Wilkes, in recognition
+of a life-long friendship and of valued services--the lawyer's
+voice was a trifle hesitant as he read this clause. One thousand
+pounds in cash and a tenth share in the business were left to
+Robert Fraser Andrews; and, since the testator's only child was
+a daughter, he directed that the said Andrews should be
+appointed manager of his business, under the conditions which
+followed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The whole residue of his estate, real and personal, he left to
+his daughter, Gladys, unreservedly. At this point the cousins
+again exchanged glances. Andrews was to manage the business for
+five years; at the end of that period, or in the event of his
+death, Gladys might appoint his successor, or dispose of the
+business, whichever she chose. No radical change in the conduct
+of the business was to be made without consulting her, and she
+was to have the right of veto. She was to have access to the
+accounts at all times, with right of comment.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The testator went on to say that Stephen Wilkes had acted as his
+legal adviser for many years, and to express a strong wish that
+he would continue in that capacity for his daughter. He hoped
+that she would consult him freely, both in the conduct of the
+business and in her affairs generally, and act on his advice. He
+appointed Robert Fraser Andrews and Stephen Wilkes his
+executors.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So soon as he had finished the reading of the will Mr. Wilkes
+observed:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In order to avoid misunderstanding, I wish to state that,
+since I have reason to believe that my services would not be
+welcome--and, indeed, learn that another solicitor has already
+been retained, whom I see present--I wish to withdraw at the
+earliest possible moment from all connection with Mr.
+Patterson's estate and affairs, and also that I renounce
+administration. I will not act as executor.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When the lawyer stopped, Mr. Andrews had his say:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm very much in the same position as Mr. Wilkes. If Miss
+Patterson would rather I did not act as manager, I have not the
+slightest wish to press my claim. I'm given to understand, Miss
+Patterson, that Mr. Elmore here is likely to become your
+husband. From a conversation I had with him this morning, I--I'm
+inclined to think that I am older than I supposed, and that it
+would be to your advantage and to the advantage of the business
+that the management of affairs should be in his hands. Also, if
+you wish it, so as not to be a clog on you in any way, I will
+not act as executor.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney answered for his cousin:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You must act as executor, Mr. Andrews; Miss Patterson will very
+unwillingly release you from that duty. The other point she will
+discuss with you later; you will find that she is as anxious to
+consider your wishes as you are to consider hers. I may remark
+to you, Mr. Wilkes, as well as to Mr. Andrews, that Miss
+Patterson is grateful for the delicate thought which prompts
+your proposed action, and she will endeavour in all she does to
+show that she appreciates at its full value all that you have
+done for her father, and, by consequence, for her. I think,
+gentlemen, that, at present, that is all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The meeting was dissolved. The three gentlemen dismissed. The
+cousins were left together. Kneeling before the armchair on
+which Miss Patterson was seated, Rodney drew her towards him and
+kissed her with a sort of mock solemnity.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My congratulations, lady! if I may venture to kiss one who is
+now a person of property and importance. I hope you won't mind,
+but I almost wish, for my sake, that you hadn't quite so much
+money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She put out her hand and softly stroked his hair.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's nonsense. How much money have I got?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Roughly, I suppose that the business brings in four or five
+thousand a year, and you've forty or fifty thousand pounds in
+what represents cash. You're a rich woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then, if you do marry me, you'll be a rich man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's one thing--put the business at its highwater mark, say
+that in its best year it brings in five thousand pounds--in ten
+years it shall bring in fifty thousand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, don't be too speculative. We've enough to get along
+with; let's be sure of having a good time with what there is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear lady, I'm no speculator--not such a fool; but I don't
+want to see a gold-mine producing only copper. You've twice the
+head your father had, and keener, because younger, eyes. Shortly
+I shall hope to lay my ideas before you; when you have
+assimilated them, you will be able to judge for yourself whether
+or not they're speculative. You'll see, what even old Andrews
+already sees, that you're the possessor of a gold-mine--a
+veritable gold-mine--which hitherto has been worked as if it
+were merely a copper-mine. When you begin to work it as a
+gold-mine, in less than ten years it will be bringing you in
+fifty thousand pounds a year; I shouldn't be surprised if it
+brings you twice as much--honestly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A hundred thousand pounds a year, Rodney!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Wait--you'll see! This is the age of miracles, which, when you
+look into them, have the simplest natural causes. Seriously,
+Gladys, there's no reason why, properly handled, the business of
+which you are now the sole proprietress--because you can easily
+get rid of Andrews--should not make you rich beyond the dreams
+of avarice. Wilkes has been quick in taking the hint, hasn't
+he?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't like him--I never did. I think I shall like Mr.
+Parmiter much better.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm sure you will. He's an awfully good sort and as clever as
+they make them--and straight! He'll make your interests his
+own.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a momentary pause. The gentleman was still kneeling in
+front of the armchair, and the lady was still stroking his hair.
+There was a look on her face which was half comical and half
+something else as she changed the topic.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, who's Agnes Sybil Armstrong?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know, and don't you ask. Let her have her hundred a
+year, and go hang!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Does every man have an Agnes Sybil Armstrong?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Emphatically no; only--I was going to say only men like your
+father, but perhaps you wouldn't like it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wonder--will you ever have one?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gladys! Lady, if a man loves one woman, that's all the feminine
+kind he'll ever want, especially--if she's a woman like you.
+Doesn't your instinct tell you that when you're my wife,
+I'll--be satisfied, in every sense?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I hope so. If you weren't, I--I shouldn't like it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I should say not. May I hope that there is some possibility of
+your being my wife?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have some ideas in that direction now, though on Saturday I
+thought I never should. How prophetic you were? You almost
+foretold what has happened--almost as if you saw it coming. Did
+you know that he was ill?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I had a shrewd suspicion; but you don't suppose I foresaw what
+actually did happen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I dare say that yours was not the prophetic vision quite to
+that extent. I wonder why he didn't like you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm nearly sure that with him it was a case of Dr. Fell--the
+reason why he couldn't tell. When you came on the scene he hated
+me because you didn't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Didn't you do anything to ruffle him--to rub him the wrong
+way?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never--consciously. I've a notion--it's only a notion, but my
+notions are apt to be pretty near the mark--that he had some
+idea of marrying you to Mr. Stephen Wilkes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney! Good gracious! What a notion!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As I remarked, it's only a notion; but I can put two and two
+together, and something in the gentleman's manner this morning
+put the crown on my suspicions.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'd rather have died.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Or married me? Well--do! How soon could you make it
+convenient?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How soon would you like it to be?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;This is Monday. Say Thursday--next?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney! How can you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then make it Friday--if you've no prejudice against the day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll never be married on a Friday.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then postpone it to that far-off date, Saturday, or even
+Monday. I don't know if you want a smart wedding; if you do,
+what indefinite postponement may the conventions require?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't want a smart wedding.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That sounds hopeful. You're all I want; I don't know if I'm all
+you want.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well; you are one thing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Am I? Thanks--you have a nice way. I tell you what, I'll get a
+special licence--hang the expense--and we'll be married on
+Monday.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I won't be married in black, and I will have one bridesmaid;
+I'll have Cissie Henderson. She's my particular friend; she
+likes you; she's been on our side all through; and she'll strain
+a point--when I've put it to her as I shall, she'll have to. As
+a matter of fact, I believe she'll love to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And Clarence Parmiter shall be my best man, and old Andrews
+shall give you away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know about old Andrews.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then old Andrews shan't! So long as I get you I don't care who
+gives you away; if it comes to that, we'll make it worth the
+verger's while. Then we'll go off for a whole month, and have a
+rare old spree.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That sounds inviting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And while we're away Andrews and Parmiter between them shall
+get things ship-shape; and when we come back, under her
+majesty's directions I shall put my shoulder to the wheel and
+start making her the richest woman in the world--and the
+happiest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The conceit of him! Mind you do make me happy. Will you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you think I shall?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I hadn't hopes in that direction you--wouldn't be where you
+are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where shall we go to?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Wherever you like.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. She put her arms
+about his neck and drew him to her.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_15" href="#div1Ref_15">MABEL JOYCE</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">When Rodney Elmore got back to his rooms it was somewhat late.
+Some letters were on the table in his sitting-room, and a
+telegram from Stella Austin. One of those voluminous telegrams
+which women send when they are in no mood to consider that each
+unnecessary word means another halfpenny. It was, indeed, a
+little letter, in which she expressed both sympathy and
+disappointment. She was so sorry to hear the bad news about
+his uncle, and assured him--with apparent disregard of the fact
+that the message might possibly pass through several persons'
+hands--that he had much better come to her if he was able, since
+she would console him as nobody else could.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shall be terribly disappointed if you do not come,&quot; it went
+on, &quot;so please do come. There are heaps of things I wish to say
+to you--simply heaps. So mind, Rodney, dear, you are to come
+some time this evening, and you are to let nothing keep you away
+from your own Stella.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was a love-letter which this young lady had flashed across
+the wires at a halfpenny a word, evidently caring nothing if
+strangers learned what was in her heart so long as he did. He
+was still considering it when Miss Joyce came into the room with
+a decanter and a glass upon a tray.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Miss Austin's been to see you,&quot; she observed. &quot;I suppose that
+telegram's from her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did she tell you it was from her?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;She came in and looked about her at pretty nearly everything,
+and saw it lying on the table, and said she'd sent you a
+telegram, and supposed that was it. I thought she was going to
+walk off with it, but she didn't. I expected she'd want to stop
+till you came in, as Miss Patterson did last night, but I told
+her I knew you'd an important engagement in the City, and knew
+you wouldn't be in till very late; so she went.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you; I'm glad she didn't stay.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I thought you would be. She asked me if I was the servant. I
+don't think she liked the look of me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was something in his attitude which suggested that he was
+expecting her to leave the room, and would have liked her to.
+When she showed no sign of going he commented on her last
+remark.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That was rather bad taste on her part.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Wasn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Having done with the telegram, he began to examine the letters.
+She watched him with an expression in her pale blue eyes which,
+if he had been conscious of it, might have startled him. It was
+plain from his manner that he intended to offer her no
+encouragement either to continue the conversation or to remain
+in the room. After a perceptible interval, she said, with an
+abruptness which was a little significant:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I was at the inquest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He glanced up.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You were where? At the inquest? Oh! What was the attraction?
+And how did you get in?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I believe the public are admitted to inquests. They're supposed
+to be public inquiries, aren't they? Also, I had a friend at
+court; and, anyhow, I wasn't the only person there. I suppose
+Miss Patterson is a rich woman now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;She'll have money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you going to marry her?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why do you ask?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Or are you going to marry Miss Austin?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pray why do you ask that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When Miss Patterson was here last night I thought there was an
+air about her as if she considered you her property; when Miss
+Austin was here this evening I thought the same thing of her.
+Odd, wasn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The only thing odd about it, my dear Mabel, is that you should
+have such a vivid imagination. Both these ladies are old friends
+of mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Old friends, are they? In what sense? In the sense that I'm an
+old friend?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No one could be nicer than you have been.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I see. Have they been nice to you like that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Mabel, in what quarter sits the wind? Where's Mrs.
+Joyce?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mother's out; she's going to stay at aunt's till to-morrow. You
+and I are alone together.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good business! Come and give me a kiss.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, don't touch me; I won't have it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There is something queer about the wind! What's wrong? Is there
+anything wrong?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm trying to tell you. It's not easy, but I'm going to tell
+you if you'll give me a chance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You've some bee in your bonnet. Let me get it out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You give me a chance, I say! I tried to tell you last night,
+but I couldn't. But I'm going to tell you now; I've got to!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you? Couldn't you tell me a little closer, instead of
+standing all that distance off?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wouldn't come nearer for--for anything.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mabel! After all these years!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, after all these years! How long have you been here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I never had a memory for dates.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;More than four years you have been here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So long as that? And it hasn't seemed a day too long.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I was a kid in short skirts when you first came.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And a very pretty kid you were. Almost as pretty even then as
+you are now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, have you ever cared for me a little bit?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have I ever cared? Haven't I shown it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Shown it? You call that showing it? My word!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is the matter with the girl? I've never seen you like this
+before.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Suppose--something was going to happen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, isn't something always going to happen? What especially
+awful thing are you afraid is going to happen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Suppose--something was going to happen--to me--because of you?
+Suppose--I was going----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her voice died away, her eyes fell.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You don't mean that----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good God! It's--it's impossible!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why is it impossible? It's true.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But, my--my dear girl, it can't be.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why can't it be? It is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But--you're not sure. How can you be sure? You know, my dear
+Mabel, how you do fancy things. I'll bet ten to one that you're
+mistaken.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you suppose that I haven't tried to make myself think that
+I'm mistaken? I wouldn't believe it. But it's no use pretending
+any longer; it's sure. What are you going to do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What am I going to do? That's--that's a nice brick to aim at a
+fellow without the slightest warning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm sorry; I can't help it; I must know. What are you going to
+do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear girl, you know that you've no more actual knowledge on
+such a subject than I have. I hope--and I think it's very
+possible--that you are wrong. Let's, first of all, make sure.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very well--we'll make sure. And when we've made sure what are
+you going to do--if it is sure?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We'll discuss that when we've made sure. Give me a chance to
+think; you've had one. It seems that you've guessed, goodness
+knows how long. Give me a chance to get my thoughts into order.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can't wait; I must know now. What are you going to do--if it
+is sure?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll do everything that a man can do--you know that perfectly
+well. You've knocked the sense all out of me! Do give me a
+chance to think! Don't look at me with that stand-and-deliver
+air! Come here, old lady, and let me kiss those pretty eyes of
+yours; I can't bear to have them look like that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't touch me--don't dare! You say you'll do everything a man
+can do. Does that mean you'll marry me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Marry you! Mabel!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you mean that you will marry me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear girl, it's--it's impossible!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why is it impossible? Are you married already?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good Lord, no!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then why can't you marry me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As if you didn't know!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What do I know?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As if there weren't a thousand reasons! As if you weren't
+almost as well posted in my financial position as I am myself!
+As if you didn't know how hard I've found it to pay my
+way--that, in fact, I haven't paid it! If I were to marry you,
+financially there'd be an end of me; and in every other way! Not
+only should I be worse than penniless, but there'd be absolutely
+no prospect of my ever being anything else.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't be worse off as your wife than I am now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, wouldn't you? You would; don't you make any error! I've
+never said a word to you about marriage.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's true, nor should I have said it to you if it hadn't been
+for this.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There you are--that's frank. There's been no deception on
+either side. After all that there's been between us don't let's
+have any unpleasantness, for both our sakes. I'm as sorry for
+the position to which we've managed to bring things as you can
+be; you must know I am. At present I'm stony, but shortly I hope
+to have the command of plenty of money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you going to get it from Miss Patterson or Miss Austin?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What does it matter where it comes from?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So far as I'm concerned it matters a good deal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It'll be my own money.&quot;</p>
+
+ class="normal"&quot;If you'll have so much money of your own why can't you marry
+me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I do marry you I'll have no money?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you going to get it with your wife? Which wife?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can understand how you're feeling, so I'll try not to mind
+your being bitter, though it isn't like you one scrap. I can
+only implore you to trust me, to leave it all to me; I'll
+arrange everything. If you're right in what you fear you'll find
+a place ready for you when the time comes, in which you'll be
+comfortable, in which you'll have everything you want, and when
+it's over, if you like you can come home again, and no one will
+be one whit the wiser, and you won't be an atom the worse. It's
+done every day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is it? And the child--what about the child?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The child? If it is my child----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If? if? if? What do you mean by 'if'? You'd better be careful,
+Rodney, what you are saying. What do you mean by 'if'?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear girl, it was only a way of speaking.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then don't you speak that way. 'If' it is your child! When you
+knew me I was innocent, and I'm innocent now except for you.
+Don't you dare to say if! You know it is your child!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear girl, of course I know it's my child. You won't let a
+fellow finish what he is going to say. I was only going to say
+that the child shall want for nothing; it shall have everything
+a child can have. So shall you; you'll be much better off than
+if you were my wife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If the child is born, and I am not your wife, I'll kill
+myself--and it. Or, rather, if I'm not going to be your wife,
+I'll kill myself before it's born, as sure as you are alive.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mabel, don't talk like that--don't! I can't bear it. If you
+only knew how it hurts!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hurts! As if anything hurts you! Nothing could hurt you,
+nothing; you're not built that way. Do you suppose that I don't
+know what kind of man you are--that you're an all-round bad
+lot?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To say a thing like that, after pretending to care for me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pretending! There wasn't much pretence about my caring; I
+proved it. You wouldn't let me rest until I did. Not only did I
+care for you, but I do care for you; and I shall continue to
+care for you as long as I live. No other man can ever be to me
+what you have been.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's more like the Mabel I know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But don't imagine that I'm under any delusion about you; you'll
+know better by the time I've done. You're the kind of man who's
+not to be trusted with a girl. You make love to every woman you
+meet--what you call love! You're entangled with no end of women.
+I know! I don't know how many think you're going to marry them,
+but I shouldn't be surprised if Miss Patterson and Miss Austin
+both think you are. If I were to go and tell them, do you think
+they'd marry you? Not they; they're not that sort.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But you won't tell them. You're not that sort either. I,
+perhaps, know you better than you know yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's this way. Even you mayn't know who you're going to marry,
+but I do. You're going to marry me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wish I were. I'll admit so much. But--we can't always do what
+we wish, my dear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can, and do; that's what makes you dangerous--at first to
+others, in the end to yourself. Rodney, I don't want to say
+something which will change the whole face of the world for both
+of us, but I'll have to if you make me. Don't you make me! Say
+you'll marry me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear child----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't talk like that to me; don't you do it! You're duller than
+I thought, or long before this you'd have seen what I was
+driving at. Now, you listen to me; I'll tell you. To-day I was
+at the inquest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That fact, I assure you, in spite of my dullness, I have
+appreciated already. What I still fail to understand is what the
+attraction was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Attraction! You call it an attraction! You wait. I've always
+thought that an inquest was to find out the truth, not to hide
+it up. The idea of that one seemed to be to conceal, not to
+reveal. The coroner was an old idiot, as blind as a bat. He'd
+got a notion into his head, and as there wasn't room for more
+than one at a time--why, there it was! I went there knowing
+nothing, guessing nothing, suspecting nothing. The inquest
+hadn't hardly begun before I saw everything, knew everything,
+understood everything. But the coroner, the jury, and the
+witnesses--they knew less at the end than the beginning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your words suggest that nature erred in making you a pretty
+girl, and therefore incompetent to be a coroner.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;According to the guard of the train, your uncle was found
+sitting up in a corner of the carriage, with a box in his hand,
+in which were some of the things with which he is supposed to
+have poisoned himself. The box was handed round for the coroner
+and jury to look at. Directly I saw it I knew it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">If Elmore changed countenance it was only very slightly, and the
+change went as quickly as it came; yet one felt that for an
+instant it had been there.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is that so? What sort of box was it? It must have been
+something rather out of the common run of boxes for you to have
+recognised it at what, I take it, was some little distance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I was close enough, close enough to take it in my hand if I had
+wanted; and it was all that I could do to keep my hand from off
+it. And it was very much what you call out of the common run of
+boxes. It was a silver box, Chinese, with Chinese engraving on
+it, about an inch and a half long, round, and a little thicker
+than a fountain pen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You seem to have observed it pretty closely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It was not the first time I'd seen it. The first time I saw it
+it was on your dressing-table.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again, if Elmore's expression altered, it was only as if a
+flickering something had come and gone in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You may have seen a box like it on my dressing-table. You
+certainly never saw the one you saw this morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The box was on your dressing-table. I picked it up and asked
+you what it was. You said you believed it was a Chinese
+sweetmeat box. I said that if it was it did not hold many
+sweets. You laughed and said it was very old, and that you
+believed it came from Pekin, and that some of the carvings on it
+were Chinese characters, but you didn't know what they meant. I
+opened it. Inside it were some of the white things which were in
+it when they handed it round this morning. I asked you if they
+were sweets. You said that those who wanted a long, long sleep
+would find them sweet enough; and you took the box from me as
+you said it. I thought there was something queer about you and
+the box, and when you put it down for a moment I picked it up
+again, and, with some scissors which were on the table,
+scratched some marks on the bottom--I myself hardly know why.
+But when I saw that box this morning it was all I could do to
+keep from asking the coroner if they were on the bottom. I could
+describe them perfectly; I should know them again. I can see
+them now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What a vivid imagination you have, and what powers of
+observation! Even granting that, by some odd coincidence, that
+box was my box, what's the inference you draw from it, when the
+simple explanation is that it was a present to my uncle from his
+affectionate nephew?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I daresay it was a present, but not in the sense you mean. You
+went to Brighton yesterday by the Pullman, but you didn't come
+back by it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pray, who is your informant, and what's the relevancy to your
+previous remarks?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;George Dale, who has the bed-sitting-room upstairs, and who
+cares for me in a different way to what you do, because he wants
+me to be his wife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then why the--something don't you oblige him? Isn't he
+respectable?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, he's respectable.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then could there be a sounder proposition? A man who loves you,
+who would be all that a husband ought to be! I tell you what, on
+the day you marry him an unknown benefactor will settle on you a
+thousand pounds--something like a fortune.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can talk to me like that, knowing what you know! After what
+you've done to me you want to pass me on to someone else. That
+finishes it! Now you listen. George Dale's a booking clerk at
+Victoria Station. He recognised you, though you didn't him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Quite possibly, if he was on the other side of the peep-hole,
+and seeing that I've only seen him two or three times in my
+life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He gave you your ticket for the Pullman. All the seats are
+numbered; he made a note of your number. Your ticket wasn't
+among those which were given up by the passengers who came back
+by the Pullman, but it was among those which were collected from
+the train which reached Victoria at 11.30. The guard saw you get
+into the train at Redhill Station. You got into a first-class
+compartment with a little man. You two were the only first-class
+passengers who got in at Redhill, so he took particular notice.
+You were in the London Bridge part of the train. At East Croydon
+someone else got into your compartment. You got out and went
+back to the Victoria part. The guard, shutting your carriage
+door, took particular notice of you again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your friend the guard appears to be as quick to observe as he
+is to impart the fruits of his observation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He wasn't my friend, only Mr. Dale introduced me to him, and he
+was kind enough to answer a question or two. Mr. Dale also
+introduced me to the guard of the train in which your uncle was.
+I asked him if it stopped anywhere. He thought a bit, and then
+said that it did once, for about a minute, in Redhill tunnel,
+because the signal was against it. I haven't made inquiries yet,
+but I shouldn't be surprised if someone saw you get into your
+uncle's train at Brighton. As that train stopped in Redhill
+tunnel, it's not hard to understand how, or why, you got into
+another train a little later at Redhill Station.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You surprise me, Mabel. I hadn't a ghost of an idea that you
+had such a genius for ferreting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's easy enough. If that coroner hadn't had a notion in his
+head when he started, he might have got at the facts as easily
+as I have.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And, from what you call the facts, what is the inference you
+draw? What dreadful charge against me have you been formulating
+in your mind?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, a wife can't give evidence against her husband in a
+charge of murder.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I believe I have heard as much. And then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm the only creature in the world who has any suspicion. If
+you marry me you're safe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You, pretending to love me, can marry the sort of man you
+believe I am?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is because I do love you that I am willing to marry you,
+knowing you to be the kind of man you are.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your standard of morality is not a high one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's what you've made it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mabel, while you have got parts of your story right, the
+inferences you draw from it are all wrong; but I'm not going to
+attempt any denials.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't; lies won't help you--not with me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So you also think that I'm a liar?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm sure of it; you're a born liar. Sometimes I don't believe
+you know yourself if you are speaking the truth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;One thing I've learnt this evening--that you're a born actress.
+I am speaking the absolute truth when I assure you that I never
+for one second dreamt that you had the opinion of me you seem to
+have.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I never really began to understand you myself till last night.
+Just before you came in Mr. Dale had gone to bed. He told me, as
+he went upstairs, that your uncle had been found dead in the
+Brighton train, and that you had gone to Brighton in the
+Pullman; and he wondered, laughing, if it was you who had killed
+him. Then Miss Patterson came with her air of owning you, and
+you came and went out with her again as with one whom you were
+going to make your wife, and something happened inside my head
+and I began to understand. All night I scarcely slept for
+thinking, and in the morning, somehow, I knew; and all day I
+have been learning much more, until now I know you--for the man
+you are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Mabel, one thing I do see plainly, that you're not very
+well, that your nerves are out of order, and play you tricks.
+Let's both turn in. I, for one, am tired, and I'm sure that a
+good night's rest will do you good; and to-morrow we'll continue
+our talk where it left off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, you'll give me at once a written promise of marriage,
+or I'll communicate with Inspector Harlow, and in the morning
+you'll be charged with murder.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you wish me to suppose that you are speaking seriously?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We'll be married at a registrar's--it doesn't matter where, so
+long as we are married, and at a registrar's it's quickest. You
+can get a licence for £2 3s. 6d.; I'll get it, I've enough
+money for that, and then the day after you can be married. If I
+get the licence to-morrow we can be married on Thursday--and we
+will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We can be married on Thursday, can we, you and I? This sounds
+like comic opera, and, as the song says, 'When we are married,
+what shall we do?'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can do as you please. I shall have my marriage lines, and
+that's all I care about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So you propose to haul me to the registrar, and chain me to
+you, and souse me in the gutter, and ruin my career, and render
+life not worth living, not because you've any special ambition
+for yourself, nor even because you crave for the sweets of my
+society, but in order that you may have somewhere locked up in a
+drawer what you call your marriage lines. This seems to me like
+using a steam hammer to crack a nut.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've got a sheet of paper; you sit down and write what I tell
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She laid on the table a sheet of paper which she had taken out
+of her blouse. As he looked at it he laughed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stamped--a sixpenny stamp, as I'm a sinner! Do you know, my
+dear, that this is a bill form which you've got here, good
+for any amount up to fifty pounds. Wherever did you get the
+thing? And what use do you suppose it is to you? What a
+practical-minded child it is! And I never guessed it till now!
+Tis a wonderful world that we live in!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You get a pen and write.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He took a fountain pen and a blotting pad from a table at the
+side, and spread out on the latter the crumpled bill stamp.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Here we are. Now for the writing. 'Three months after date I
+promise to pay.' Is that the sort of thing I'm to write?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You write what I tell you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tell on; I'm waiting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Write: 'I, Rodney Elmore, promise to marry on Thursday next
+Mabel Joyce, who is about to bear a child of which I am the
+father.' Have you got that? Why aren't you writing?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Before I start I want to see the finish; that is, I want to
+know all that I am to write.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Except your signature and the date, that is all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rather a considerable all, eh? What use do you suppose this
+will be to you when you've got it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's my business.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What do you propose to do with it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing. If you marry me I'll give it you before we leave the
+registrar's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And if I don't?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You'll be in gaol.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I see; that's it. If I don't write I'm in the cart, and if I do
+write and don't marry I'm also in the cart.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm fighting for my life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And I lose mine either way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How do you make that out? Who's there to be afraid of except
+me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I do marry you I might as well be dead, and if I don't
+you'll do your best to bring my death about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She was silent. They eyed each other, she standing at one side
+of the table, he sitting at the other. In the white-faced woman,
+with the rigid features and close-set lips, who looked at him
+with such unfaltering gaze, he scarcely recognised the pretty,
+dainty, blue-eyed girl whom it seemed only yesterday he had
+wooed and won. He was sufficiently a physiognomist and student
+of character to be aware that this woman meant every word she
+said. As this knowledge was borne more clearly in on him a
+curious something came into his own eyes--the something which
+had been there last night in the train. He spoke very softly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mabel?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her voice fell as his had done.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We are alone together in the house, you and I.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We are; as you were alone with your uncle in the railway
+carriage.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why shouldn't I serve you as you persist in hinting that I
+served him? What reason is there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;None.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then--why shouldn't I?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can--what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Kill me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Knowing me, as you pretended to know me, you're not afraid?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shall never be afraid of you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You seem to flatter me all at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't care what you do to me. I'd rather you killed me than
+not marry me--much.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You wouldn't be so easy to explain. You'd want a lot of
+explaining if they found you dead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When he stopped she was still looking at him with eyes which
+never flinched. He went on:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You wouldn't be difficult to manage.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't resist. If you broke my head to pieces with the
+poker I wouldn't make a sound.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The poker? Not such a fool! He would be sanguine who hoped to
+explain a poker.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had been sitting back in his chair; now, leaning forward, he
+rested his arms on the table.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Suppose I had another of those things which were in the silver
+box. If I gave it to you would you take it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her face had become all at once so pale that her very lips
+seemed white.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I should have to go through the form of making you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">
+&quot;You would have to do to me what you did to your uncle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And if I did, what then?--what then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">If he expected an answer it did not come. She stood confronting
+him, so immobile that she scarcely seemed to breathe. The smile
+was on his face which had seemed the night before to give it
+such unpleasant significance, as if unholy thoughts were chasing
+each other through his mind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll be frank with you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">If he expected her to speak he was again disappointed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I could explain you--I'd do it, but I don't see how I could.
+How can I? Suggest an explanation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You won't kill me; you dare not. You only killed your uncle
+because you thought you wouldn't be found out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You think that was the only reason? You don't think that I had
+a choice of evils, and that I merely chose what seemed to be the
+lesser?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wonder why you killed him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In your case you wouldn't wonder?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Was it because of Miss Patterson?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As how?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Because you've treated her as you've treated me, and her father
+found out. If I thought--if I thought---- Take that paper and
+write on it what I told you--now! now! now!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And if I don't?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you don't kill me--and you won't, you're afraid--I'll have
+you hanged!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So with you also it is a choice of evils.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Write what I told you--write it----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She had raised her voice nearly to a scream. All at once she was
+still, leaving her sentence unfinished. There were sounds
+without of a key being put in a lock, of a door being opened, of
+steps in the passage. She spoke in a whisper, hurriedly,
+eagerly, and the fashion of her countenance was changed:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's Mr. Dale come back from the station. If you don't write
+what I told you now, I'll call him in--I will!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He also spoke in a whisper, and in some subtle fashion his
+countenance was also changed:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mabel, don't--don't be hard on me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then write, write what I told you; write it now. If I do call
+him in it'll be too late. Write!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He drew the bill stamp towards him and picked up the fountain
+pen. His air was more than a trifle sullen.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What am I to write?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know perfectly well. Write: 'I, Rodney Elmore, promise to
+marry on Thursday next Mabel Joyce, who is about to bear a child
+of which I am the father.' Write that. Now sign it, put your
+name at the bottom, and the date. I'll blot it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Drawing the pad to her she blotted what Elmore had written;
+then, after a glance at what was on it, began to return it to
+her blouse, while the young gentleman sat and watched.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm going to put this into an envelope with a note I'm going to
+write, and give it to Mr. Dale, and tell him to keep it for me
+till I ask for it; and if I don't ask for it he'll know why.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So, in writing that, I have not only put myself in your power,
+but also in Mr. Dale's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I tell you that if you do marry me on Thursday I'll give it you
+again before we leave the registrar's; but if for any cause you
+don't, even if you put me out of the way, Mr. Dale will see that
+you are made to smart.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A voice was heard calling to her without:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Miss Joyce.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She replied to it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All right, Mr. Dale. You'll find your supper all ready for you
+in the parlour; I'm coming now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She went, the bill form inside her blouse. Mr. Elmore was left
+to his own reflections. He remained just as she had left him,
+leaning forward, his arms upon the table, looking with
+unblinking eyes straight in front of him, as if he hoped to find
+in space an answer to a problem which was difficult to solve.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_16" href="#div1Ref_16">THOMAS AUSTIN, SENIOR</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">Miss Joyce came into Mr. Elmore's bedroom the next morning
+before he was out of it. As a matter of fact, he was arranging
+his tie before the looking-glass with that nice care which is
+becoming to a young gentleman of looks.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's a gentleman come to see you--a Mr. Austin. I should say
+from the look of him that he's the father of the Miss Austin who
+was here last evening.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The thing is possible.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know what he's come about.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's conceivable that you soon will know if you keep your ear
+close enough to my sitting-room door. Mr. Austin has rather a
+hearty way of speaking.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you talk to me like that! You know I've never played the
+spy on you yet, and you know I never will. But don't you make
+any mistake about last night. Mr. Dale's got that paper you
+wrote and my letter in a sealed envelope, and if you don't turn
+up on Thursday you'll be sorry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you so much for the information. Now, let me clearly
+understand. If, as you put it, I do turn up on Thursday, what is
+going to happen--after the ceremony?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All I want is my marriage lines. I'm coming straight back home;
+you can do as you like.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I like can I go through a similar ceremony with Miss Jones
+or Miss Brown?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I thought you were going to be up to any game of that sort
+I'd--I'd----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes--you'd what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'd go and talk to your Mr. Austin to begin with. Don't you get
+any ideas of that kind in your head; don't you try it on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've no intention of, as you again put it, 'trying it on,' not
+I. I only wondered. Then, at least, you won't insist on the
+position being made instantly public?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't care if it's made public or not. All I want is my
+marriage lines--when the time comes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And you quite understand that, whatever the relations may be,
+from the legal point of view, in which we stand to each other,
+you'll get no money out of me, for the sufficient reason that I
+shall have none to give you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't want your money. I don't want anything from you except
+that one thing; and--and--mind you do turn up!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've been thinking things over in the silent watches of the
+night, and I've quite decided that I will turn up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mind you do!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I will, I will; be assured I will. Now I believe I'm ready. I
+was thinking of troubling you to tell Mr. Austin that I'll be
+with him in a second, but I'll save you that trouble.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mind----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Standing by the door she was beginning a sentence. He cut her
+short.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All right, my dear; I'll mind. Would you mind getting out of
+the way?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She moved aside to let him pass. He went down the stairs to his
+sitting-room below, quickly, lightly, humming a tune as he went,
+as if he had not a care in the world; and with a face which was
+all sunshine he entered his visitor's presence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Rodney, this is an unconventional hour at which to pay
+a call, but I didn't think that in my case you'd mind about
+conventions, and I thought that, as I didn't get a chance of
+speaking to you last night, I'd have a few words with you before
+you started for the City. I suspect that I needn't tell you that
+I was glad to hear the news from Stella.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The speaker was a short, sturdily-built, fresh-coloured man,
+probably somewhere in the fifties, whose neatly trimmed beard
+was a shade whiter than his hair. A pair of bright eyes looked
+out from behind gold-rimmed spectacles; about his whole
+appearance there was a suggestion of health, vigour, and clean
+living. He took both the young man's hands in his, looking up at
+him as at one whom he both esteemed and liked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're on the tall side. Stella always did like six-footers. I
+shouldn't wonder if that's the main reason why she's contracted
+a fondness for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney laughed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's very good of you, sir, to look me up in this unceremonious
+way. You must join me at breakfast.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;On this occasion I've been an earlier bird than you--I've
+breakfasted--but I will join you in a cup of coffee.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney rang the bell. Miss Joyce entered with the breakfast on a
+tray. As she was placing the various articles on the table the
+two men scarcely spoke. The young man was examining the outsides
+of three or four letters which the morning post had brought; the
+elder, who had taken up his position before the fireplace, was
+for the most part observing Miss Joyce. When she had gone he
+said:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's not a bad-looking young woman. Who is she?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;She's the landlady's daughter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't they keep a servant?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I fancy they do at intervals, someone who does the rougher
+work; but I'm out all day, and I never see her. So far as I'm
+concerned, either the mother or the daughter does the waiting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you the only lodger?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, no; there's another man upstairs, who's by way of being a
+booking clerk or something. I rather fancy he has an eye in her
+direction.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is that so? Then perhaps that's what worries her. I never saw a
+young girl with a whiter face, or one with such an odd look in
+her eyes. It quite troubled me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How are you, sir? Though I don't think I need ask.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, you needn't. As always, I'm in the enjoyment of vulgar
+health; nothing ever seems to ail me, though in saying so
+perhaps I ought to touch wood. When I heard from Stella
+yesterday morning I made up my mind that I would come up to town
+at once and say what I had to say by word of mouth, instead of
+putting it on paper. I arrived in the afternoon, hoping to see
+you in the evening; but I didn't. I can tell you that Stella was
+very badly disappointed. I think she was unreasonable; but girls
+are! You'll have to make your peace to-day. I daresay you won't
+find it very difficult. This is very bad news about your uncle.
+I see the inquest is in the morning's paper.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is it, sir? As yet I haven't seen a paper.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;From what I can gather he was suffering from some form of
+malignant disease, and, it seems, in a fit of despair, took his
+own life. Poor fellow! It's easy to judge such cases, but I
+often feel that God, who is love, understands and pardons. I
+hope I'm saying nothing that I ought not to say. Mrs. Austin
+will have it that I oughtn't to talk like that, but that's how I
+do feel. Will his death make any difference to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you mean has he left me anything? No, sir; not a penny.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What becomes of the business?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;According to the will it's to be carried on by the managing man
+for the benefit of those mentioned in the will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of whom you're not one?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir, I am not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then that makes what I have to say all the easier. I am glad to
+hear that you're going to be Stella's husband; Mrs. Austin is
+glad to hear it; I'm sure Tom will be glad to hear it--in fact,
+we're all of us glad to hear it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's very kind of you to say so, sir, considering what an
+ineligible son-in-law I am. Here is a letter from Tom this
+morning. Shall I open it and see what he says?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You needn't. I've no doubt it conveys his congratulations in
+his own vernacular. I know Tom and his letters. There are some
+things about the governance of this world which I don't
+understand, which shows I am not omniscient. Experience teaches
+me that when a man has a son and a good business the son will
+have none of it, and can with difficulty be brought to believe
+that the business offers a good opening for him; whereas if a
+man has a son and no business, the son is apt to look upon it
+almost as a grievance that his father has no business in which
+to give him an opening. Instances of the kind are so common that
+I've nearly come to look upon them as illustrations of a general
+rule. Now, here am I, and there is Tom, and there's the
+business, producing, even in these competitive days, quite a
+comfortable number of thousands a year. Tom's a born optimist.
+The only time Eve seen him at all pessimistic is when I've
+suggested that those thousands might as well find their way into
+his pockets; then he's pessimism gone mad. He'd sooner raise
+sheep in Australia, or ranch in Manitoba, or do some other
+ridiculous thing. In fact, he once told me--in such matters he's
+frankness itself--that he'd rather sweep a crossing than be what
+he called imprisoned for life in the warehouse at Leicester.
+I'll do him this justice--that I believe his instincts are
+right, because I've never seen anything about him to lead me to
+suppose that in him are the makings of a business man. That's a
+pretty quandary for a man to be in who has a good business and
+an only son. Now, Rodney, I've always liked you. It's true that
+I've sometimes felt that a decent-looking young fellow
+occasionally finds it difficult to steer clear of quicksands
+which are represented by nice-looking persons of the opposite
+sex; but I've never had any tangible or serious charge to bring
+against you, and I've no doubt that when you're married there'll
+be only one woman in the world to you, and she will be your
+wife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As the speaker paused, apparently with the intention of giving
+the other an opening, Rodney said with a smile:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm at least glad, sir, that you've no tangible or serious
+charge to bring against me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, no, I haven't. At the same time--however, we'll let
+bygones be bygones. I daresay I'd an eye for more than one
+pretty girl before I'd a Mrs. Austin. I do know you're clever,
+with great charm of manner. I sometimes wonder if your manners
+are not almost too charming; but then, I come of a stocky
+school--no one's ever accused an Austin of having a charming
+manner, and I quite realise that, as things are, in business
+personal charm's a valuable asset; and I've been frequently
+struck by the fact that you're the possessor of a singularly
+quick perception. I think you have what is in reality an
+instinct, but what is called on the Stock Exchange a 'nose.'
+Again, a thing which in a business man is well worth having.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You seem to have been observing me with unexpectedly flattering
+attention, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, I've had an eye on you for quite a while. I want you, when
+you are Stella's husband, to come into my business. If you turn
+out as I hope and expect, I'll make you a partner. I've been
+imprisoned in the warehouse all my life, so, as I would like to
+see more of the world, soon as you're ready to take my place I
+should like you to take it. How would that meet your views?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing could please me better, sir. I don't know where I shall
+find words with which to thank you even for the suggestion.&quot;</p>
+
+ class="normal"&quot;I want no thanks; I want deeds. I'm hopeful that the
+arrangement will turn out to our mutual advantage. Now, Rodney,
+tell me candidly do you love my girl?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Let me put question for question. Do you think I'm the kind of
+man who would ask her to be my wife if I didn't?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then why didn't you ask her before?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Austin, you're not quite fair to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How am I unfair?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've loved Stella ever--ever since we were boy and girl
+together. I've tried to break myself of loving her, but I
+haven't succeeded. I've never been able to dream of anyone but
+her as wife. You were a rich man; I was not only penniless, but
+without prospects. Over and over again I've been on the point of
+telling her what I felt, but I've checked myself. It hasn't been
+easy, but I've done it. I meant to wait till I'd some shadow of
+a right to ask her to be my wife, but last Saturday, when I saw
+her dear face, I--I couldn't hold myself in any longer, and
+that's the truth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm glad you couldn't. While I'm quite aware that your
+sentiments do you honour, all the same I rather wish that you'd
+shown a little more of the perception with which I've credited
+you. Rodney, is there any reason why the marriage should be
+postponed?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Austin, I haven't at the moment five pounds in the world to
+call my own. That's the only reason, so far as I'm concerned;
+but some fathers would think it a quite sufficient one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Austin's eyes twinkled behind his glasses as he settled his
+spectacles on his nose.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I suppose they would, if you look at it in that way. You don't
+paint your position too attractively.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It couldn't be worse than it is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're not in debt?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, I'm not in debt; I don't know who'd give me credit if I
+wanted it. I've just enough to live on, as it were, from hand to
+mouth; but, with all the goodwill in the world and all the
+management, I don't see how it's going to be enough for two.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I see. You put the position with some clearness. As you say,
+some fathers would think it a sufficient reason for
+postponement, but I'm not one of them. As you perhaps know,
+Stella has some means of her own.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Isn't that one of the reasons why I--I kept quiet for so long?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And on her marriage I shall settle a further sum on her,
+besides making other arrangements. For instance, I shall, as I
+have said, be glad to receive you in my business, giving you at
+the commencement a salary which will enable you to contribute
+towards some of the expenses of a wife, with the prospect of a
+partnership in the early future. Now, do you see any reason why
+there should be any postponement so far as you're concerned?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shall be only too delighted to marry Stella next week.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Next week is a little early perhaps; but what do you say to
+next month?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I'm Stella's husband next month I shall be the happiest man
+in the world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He looked and sounded as if he meant it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You understand that in matters of this sort it is the lady who
+has the final word, but you have my authority to tell Stella
+that if she can see her way to stand with you at the altar in a
+month or earlier, she will make her mother and father happy, to
+say nothing of you. Now suppose you come and spend the day with
+us?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear sir! I must go to the City.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Meaning to your late uncle's office? Why? Can't you scribble a
+note as soon as you've finished breakfast, and make an end of
+that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's impossible; I must go to-day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very well. Go to-day, and say you're not coming to-morrow, or
+ever again. Say good-bye.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm afraid that that wouldn't be playing the game. I ought to
+go, at any rate, till the end of the week.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very well. Perhaps you're right in not wishing to leave them in
+the lurch, if the departure of such a junior clerk as I
+understand you are would be leaving them in the lurch. Then on
+Saturday you'll come down with me to Leicester, and on Monday
+I'll introduce you to the warehouse. It will be just as well
+that you should have a look round before you're actually
+installed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Here was Mr. Austin mapping out everything for him, as he had
+foreseen long ago would be the case if he ever committed himself
+to Stella; treating him as a puppet who would be content to
+dance when he pulled the strings. He had no doubt that Mrs.
+Austin would be ready to play the same motherly part in the
+management of his domestic affairs. He smiled as he thought of
+it. His would-be father-in-law went on:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm going to write to Mrs. Austin and wire to Tom; I want to
+arrange a little dinner for to-morrow in honour of a certain
+auspicious event. Stella tells me she wants you all to herself
+to-night, and I'm not to interfere. I don't know what she wants
+you for, I'm sure, but I've promised not to interfere. She'll
+pull a face when she sees you've not returned with me, so you
+come early; after disappointing her twice--on Sunday and last
+night--she'll think that you can't come too early.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll leave the office as early as I can--trust me for
+that!--rush back here, dress, and come right on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Dress! You needn't dress! They're homely folk at Kensington,
+and Stella will excuse you; she won't want you to waste, in
+dressing, valuable time which might be spent with her. You come
+straight on from the office in your toil-stained garments.
+She'll want to know what time. Shall I say five? I dare say, at
+a pinch, you can manage to be in Kensington by five.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney considered. If he did go straight on from the office he
+would at least escape the risk of another heated discussion with
+Miss Joyce--that would be something.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very well, sir; if Stella will forgive me coming as I am, as
+you say, all toil-stained, I'll try my best to be with her as
+near as possible to five.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_17" href="#div1Ref_17">THE ACTING HEAD OF THE FIRM</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Austin and Rodney left the house together, and so
+disappointed Miss Joyce, who was waiting to have one or two last
+words with Mr. Elmore. Having parted from Mr. Austin, Rodney
+paid a few calls on his way to St. Paul's Churchyard.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">To begin with, he went into a jeweller's shop, and bought a ring
+set with pearls and diamonds--a simple, inexpensive trifle,
+which cost six pounds. It was designed for Stella's finger, and
+was to be her engagement ring.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It won't do,&quot; he said to himself, &quot;for it to cost too much, for
+one of her inquiring family will want to know where I got the
+money from. She'll value it none the less because 'I can no
+more, though poor the offering be.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then he looked in at the offices of the White Star Steamship
+Company, and paid a deposit on a berth which he booked on a
+steamer which was to sail from Liverpool to New York on the
+following Thursday, booking it in the name of John Griffiths;
+then into the offices of the Royal Mail Steam Packet Company,
+where he booked a berth for the following Friday, from
+Southampton to Buenos Ayres, in the name of Charles Dickinson;
+then to the Cunard offices, where he booked for Saturday to New
+York, in the name of Adolphus Ridgway. Afterwards he visited the
+Bishop's Registry, in Doctors' Commons, and there, having made
+certain affidavits, received, in exchange for two sovereigns, a
+strip of paper which authorised him to marry Gladys Patterson,
+spinster, at any church in the London diocese. Thus prepared, as
+one might suppose, for more than one emergency, he paid still
+another call before proceeding to St. Paul's Churchyard--on
+Clarence Parmiter, solicitor. From him he wanted to know what
+forms it would be necessary to go through to enable Miss
+Patterson to draw on her late father's banking account. Mr.
+Parmiter explained that to do this it would be necessary, first
+of all, to prove Mr. Patterson's will--and it was not usual to
+do that, at any rate, till after the testator was buried. When,
+Mr. Parmiter asked, was the funeral to take place. In spite of
+himself, his visitor smiled; so fast had events come crowding on
+him that the fact that the dead man would have to be put into
+his grave had entirely escaped his notice--so far as he was
+aware, no arrangements for the funeral had been made of any sort
+or kind. Mr. Parmiter looked as if he felt that the smile with
+which this announcement was made was a little out of place. He
+said that probably Rodney would find that the matter had been
+arranged by one of the executors, or by Miss Patterson herself.
+If cash was wanted in the interim; if Miss Patterson and Mr.
+Andrews, as executor, would attend with him at a bank with which
+Mr. Patterson had an account, he did not doubt that arrangements
+might be made which would provide the lady with such advances as
+she required; and, of course, if she chose, she might instruct
+the bank to honour any cheques which he--Rodney Elmore--might
+draw, acting on her behalf.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Elmore left his friend's chambers with a feeling strong upon
+him that the business of getting his uncle's money out of the
+bank was not going to be as simple as he had hoped it would be.
+Clarence Parmiter even told him that the bank would not now
+honour any cheque which Graham Patterson might have drawn while
+still alive. This he did feel was unreasonable; it rendered even
+forgery futile. If he could wait he did not doubt that matters
+would be perfectly all right; but--could he wait? If only
+certain difficulties could be smoothed away, and he was given
+time, he did not doubt that he would be able to load himself
+with money; but could they be smoothed away, even for a week?
+Danger threatened from so many quarters; he really had been such
+an utter fool. If he had only realised what a fool, he would
+have taken precious good care to walk more warily; he would have
+been a wiser and a better man. But wisdom after the event was
+easy; what he needed was to be ready at a moment's notice for
+whatever came. He had planned escape in three different
+directions on three following days--if he could only get away
+with enough money to count! There was that nest-egg which he had
+found in his uncle's drawer, but what was that to a man in his
+plight? What he wanted was ten, or even, say, five thousand
+pounds. With five thousand pounds he might do very well on the
+other side of the world.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As, strolling leisurely along, he considered the matter in all
+its bearings calmly, it appeared to him that nothing worth
+calling money could be got at least until the morrow. In the
+morning he would meet his cousin at the bank, with Parmiter and
+Andrews; the arrangements would be made of which Parmiter had
+spoken; then, immediately after, he would be free to lay hands
+on as much ready cash as the arrangements permitted. He had no
+doubt that everything would be all right until to-morrow--he
+would so manage that it should be; all the same, he would have
+liked to have had a good supply of coin at his command, in case.
+However, it was no use grizzling at what might not be. He smiled
+as he arrived at this conclusion; he was still smiling when he
+reached the office. He marched, as a matter of course, to the
+room which had been his uncle's own particular sanctum, and
+this time no one even as much as hinted nay. Indeed, he was
+presently followed by Andrews, who informed him, with a
+countenance of decent solemnity, that he had made arrangements,
+which he hoped would meet with his and Miss Patterson's
+approval, for the interment of Mr. Patterson's remains in the
+family vault at Kensal Green, the interment to take place upon
+the morrow--Wednesday. Tickled by certain thoughts of his own,
+Rodney smiled as he listened; but this time, as his face was
+bent over the table, it is possible that the smile went
+unnoticed. He expressed himself as greatly obliged by what
+Andrews had done, and was certain that his feelings would be
+shared by Miss Patterson. Indeed, he was convinced that Miss
+Patterson would be willing to leave everything in his charge,
+since she would feel assured that everything he did would be
+right and proper and for the best. Mr. Andrews put his hand up
+to his mouth and coughed--the cough of one who was sensible that
+he deserved the compliment which was paid him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He wanted to know if Mr. Elmore did not think it would be well
+to close the office for the whole of to-morrow, so as to give
+the staff an opportunity of at least attending at the graveside.
+They had all been remembered in the will, and would like to show
+the last tokens of respect for their dead master. Rodney, to
+whom the notion of marking such an occasion as a sort of holiday
+was novel, informed Andrews that the idea was excellent, and
+that he was at liberty to act in the matter as he thought was
+right. Andrews then wanted to know if Miss Patterson would be
+present, or if he--Rodney Elmore--would represent her as chief
+mourner. The suggestion moved Rodney in a way he would not have
+cared to admit. He had had no intention of attending his uncle's
+funeral at all--and as chief mourner! He to represent his cousin
+in such a capacity! That would be indeed to mock the dead. He
+was conscious of a feeling which surprised himself; he had not
+supposed he was so sensitive.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I think,&quot; he told Andrews, &quot;we must leave these points till
+later. I will consult with Miss Patterson and--observe her
+wishes. There is another matter,&quot; he went on. &quot;Access to Mr.
+Patterson's banking account is not so easy as I imagined. My
+acquaintance with the procedure in these cases is nil; I don't
+know what yours amounts to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I know no more than you; this is the first time I find myself
+in such a position. Two payments of some importance are to be
+made this week; I was wondering how they would be met. Of
+course, if representations are made, time will be given.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But, all the same, you would rather the payments were made?
+Exactly my feelings, Andrews; I want everything to be done in
+due order. I am going to arrange for Miss Patterson to meet you
+and Mr. Parmiter at the bank to-morrow morning, when I am
+advised that it will be possible to make arrangements which will
+enable us to meet all liabilities as they fall due. By the way,
+I believe that the trading account pass-book is in your charge;
+you might let me look at it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney examined the book when it was brought to him with great
+attention. He was already posted in certain figures which had to
+deal with his uncle's private account. Customers were brought in
+to him; some who had called in the ordinary course of business,
+others who had come to offer condolences, and so on. Their being
+brought straight to him showed a frank acceptance on Andrews'
+part of the fact that he was to be acting head of the firm; none
+the less, therefore, he was careful that Andrews was present at
+each of the interviews, referring certain matters to him with a
+little air of deference which won, as it was intended to win,
+the managing man's heart. The customers were favourably
+impressed, agreeing, as they went out, that Graham Patterson's
+mantle had descended on to capable shoulders.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't wonder,&quot; declared Mr. Brailson North as he shook
+hands with Mr. Andrews at the outer door, &quot;if he turns out to be
+every bit as good a man as his uncle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This, coming from a member of one of the largest firms in the
+City, was praise indeed. The managing man's eyes glistened.
+Anything which suggested a compliment to the business, so
+wrapped up in it was his whole existence, was a compliment to
+him. Since yesterday his ideas on the subject of Mr. Elmore had
+changed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. North,&quot; he addressed the visitor in a confidential whisper,
+&quot;Mr. Patterson was a good man, an excellent man of business in
+his way, sound and discreet; but between you, me, and this
+doorpost, I shouldn't wonder if the young one was better, with
+all his uncle's soundness and discretion, together with
+something that his uncle hadn't got. He's surprised me! You mark
+my words, I shouldn't be surprised if the house of Graham
+Patterson--there's going to be no alteration in the title--takes
+its place among the greatest City houses--mind you, in the front
+rank.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. North laughed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's no reason why your prophecy shouldn't come true. This
+is the day of the young man. Your young man has evidently got a
+head on his shoulders; he's a good foundation to build on. If he
+has grit, steadiness, caution, and knows just what sort of
+structure he would raise on it, there's no reason that I know of
+why he shouldn't build anything he likes. I agree with you in
+thinking that it is possible that the house of Graham Patterson
+is destined to be, in all respects, one of the finest in the
+City of London.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">While these things were being said in his praise Rodney Elmore
+was writing to Miss Patterson. He enclosed for her inspection
+the marriage licence he had bought, asked in what church she
+would like the ceremony to take place on Monday, and added that
+he hoped to be able to make all final detailed arrangements with
+her to-morrow after the funeral. He told her of the difficulty
+which had arisen about getting money, asked her to meet him at
+the bank in the morning at 11.30; hoped that afterwards they
+might lunch together, pointing out that he never had lunched
+with her yet. Since after to-morrow he looked forward to being
+able to spend most of his time with her till Monday, and then
+for ever and a day--and that wouldn't seem a day too long!--he
+said that he felt that it would be better to devote the evening
+to doing certain little things of his own, which, sooner or
+later, would have to be done. By doing them he would clear the
+decks for action, so that, when the time for action came, he
+would be able to devote the whole of his time and, indeed, the
+whole of his life to her. All of which meant that he would not
+be able to tell her, except on paper, that he loved her till
+they met at the bank to-morrow morning.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Before actually slipping it into the envelope, together with
+this edifying epistle, he read the marriage licence carefully
+through. The perusal started him on what, for him, was an
+unwonted train of thought. Already, while still in the first
+flush of youth, he had spoilt his life, brought it to final
+wreck and ruin. What an extremely silly thing to have done! It
+was characteristic of this young gentleman that he never could
+bring himself to look at anything through serious eyes--even
+death. Whatever his first impulse might be, his second was to
+smile. Life, with all that appertained thereto, was such a funny
+thing. Here was he, with a career on either hand, each of which
+would lead at least to fortune; yet he might have neither. That
+did seem droll. Each was represented by a woman; personally he
+would have preferred that which was represented by Gladys, if
+only because he had no doubt that ere long he would be master
+not only of the business but of her. He was not so sure of
+Stella. In her he suspected an obstinate streak which he feared
+might be congenital. He had always felt that the Austins were,
+as the head of the house had put it, &quot;stocky.&quot; He would find
+them more inclined to manage than to be managed. One thing he
+did know of himself: that he never could be managed. He might
+not put up an open fight--open fighting was not precisely in his
+line--but, if a sustained attempt were made to manage him, he
+would slip away--somehow, that was sure. Therefore, if only for
+the sake of peace and quietude, it would be better to avoid the
+risk. All the same, there was something about Stella which did
+appeal to him. With a sudden smile, slipping the licence and the
+letter into the envelope, he closed the flap.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then, with pen in hand, as he was about to write the address,
+he started again to think. It was women--girls--who had brought
+him to his present pass, that was how he put it to himself.
+What Mabel Joyce said was perfectly true: he could not be alone
+with a girl without making love to her. It was a physical
+impossibility; he did not know why, but it was. The mischief was
+that his instinct had not warned him they were dangerous, hence
+his horrid situation. Indeed, it was hard that they should be
+dangerous; they were so pleasant to make love to. There were men
+who cared nothing for women, who went through life without
+making love--real love!--to a single one. How they managed he
+could not think. To him life under such conditions would not be
+worth living. He was a Sybarite. Life meant to him its good
+things; were there better things than women? He doubted it. He
+thought little of men; he had a very high opinion of women; he
+doubted if he had ever met one in whom there was not something
+to be desired.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Take Mabel Joyce. She was showing him a side of her character
+whose existence he had not suspected. Yet he understood her,
+quite believed her when she said that she was fighting for her
+life. No one could have been sweeter to him than she had been;
+then she was such a pretty little thing, from the tips of her
+little pink toes to the top of her fluffy little head. It could
+hardly be set down to her as a fault if she was sweet no longer.
+Let him be just! Then there was Gladys, a girl of quite a
+different type; but that was the charm about women, there were
+so many types. He was persuaded that they would have the best
+possible time together, if the fates could only manage to be
+kind. He would make her a model husband, he really would; he
+rather wondered what it would feel like to be a husband, but he
+did not doubt that it would be all right. A little cramped,
+perhaps; but he would study her, and her interests, in every
+possible way. She should never regret the father she had lost,
+who was precious little loss after all. He would be better to
+her than a father; he should rather think so! Then there was
+Mary Carmichael; but at the thought of Mary Carmichael his
+pulses began to dance--that any man should be ass enough to care
+nothing for women when there was Mary Carmichael! Also, let him
+not forget little Stella--why, what an idiot he was; she was
+waiting for him now! He glanced at his watch. Great Scott! how
+the time had flown! And that poor child was longingly waiting
+for him to put his arms about her and stifle her with kisses.
+That he should be brute enough to let her wait!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He addressed the envelope, rang the bell, bade the lad who
+answered take it at once to Russell Square, took his hat off its
+peg, and, after a few hurried words to Andrews as he went out,
+started off for Kensington.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_18" href="#div1Ref_18">THE PERFECT LOVER</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">Stella, opening the door for him herself, was at him like a
+small wild thing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I thought you were never coming!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why, it's not yet half-past five.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Half-past five! when I expected papa to bring you with him, and
+he said you'd be here by five! Come in here; I'll talk to you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She took from him his hat and stick and gloves, and placed them
+on a table in the hall; then she led him by the sleeve of his
+coat into a room on the left, and shut the door, and drew a long
+breath.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh--h--h! So you've come at last, my lord! Let me look at you,
+to make sure that it is you. Oh, Rodney, why have you been so
+long in coming?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She put her arms about his neck and drew him down to her and
+kissed him. He said, softly:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do believe you have grown shorter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You wretch! To let a thing like that be your first word to me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's such a long way down, though it's well worth stooping
+for.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He kissed her again, tenderly, on her pretty lips--he was an
+expert in the art of kissing. Because he did it so well, she,
+not knowing that such skill came of practice, had him kiss her
+again and again and again, till the breath had half gone out of
+her body and she was all rapturous palpitation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you only knew what ages it seems since I saw you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella, what do you think it has seemed to me? If you only knew
+what I have gone through!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Poor boy! I suppose you have had to bear a good deal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You have no notion what I've had to bear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That was true enough, or she would not have been as close to him
+as she was.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It was bad enough when you didn't come on Sunday. I suppose you
+didn't get back from that Mrs. What's-her-name, your mother's
+friend, in time?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear, I had a chapter of accidents, and nearly missed the
+last train; I'll tell you all about it some day, and you'll
+laugh. I didn't feel like laughing then, I can tell you that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And I didn't feel like laughing, and I can tell you that. In
+fact, I--I cried.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I did; it seemed so awful. That was the longest Sunday I ever
+knew; and then when the evening came I kept expecting you every
+moment; I kept rushing out of the front door to look for you.
+Every footstep in the street I thought was yours, and every
+vehicle the hansom which was bringing you; when it kept getting
+later and later, and still you didn't come, I--I fancied all
+sorts of things, and I simply had to cry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My darling, I would infinitely rather have been with you than
+where I was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That again was true enough; part of the time he had been in the
+tunnel--a gruesome time.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What time was it when you did get back?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Frightfully late; but--Stella, you won't tell anyone if I tell
+you something? Promise!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course I promise. What--what is it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can laugh if you like; I don't mind your laughing a little
+bit; but I don't want them to laugh.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why should they laugh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I did come to see you--after I came back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;At least, I came as far as the outside of the house. I
+dismissed the cab at the corner; then I walked--or rather
+sneaked--along the pavement; if a bobby had seen me he'd have
+been all suspicion--till I reached the house. It was all in
+darkness; there wasn't a glimmer of light anywhere.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What time was it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;About one, perhaps later.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, I'd been in my room hours and hours; but I wasn't
+asleep; I was crying in bed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella! You were crying! Great Scott! if--if I'd only known it,
+I'd--I'd have done something.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What would you have done?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'd--I'd have done something if--if I'd had to break a window!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But what good would your breaking a window have done me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Anyhow, it would have been a beginning; but, you see, I didn't
+even know which your room was--whether you were at the front or
+the back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm on the second floor in the front; my window's over the hall
+door.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I kept staring at it all the time; I had a sort of feeling--I
+swear I had a sort of feeling! If I'd only been sure I'd have
+whistled.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Whistled! At one in the morning! What would have been the good
+of that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Suppose, say, I'd whistled 'The Devout Lover'--or what I should
+have meant for 'The Devout Lover'--you'd have heard.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I probably should have heard; Miss Claughton would probably
+have heard also.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, hang Miss Claughton!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney! Miss Claughton's a dear--and your hostess!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Miss Claughton may be an absolute angel for all I know--you
+know what I mean--so long as you heard I shouldn't have cared
+who heard. Then you'd have wondered who was kicking up that
+awful row.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think I should?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Certain! I can't whistle for nuts. Then you'd have got out of
+bed, crossed the room with your dear little bare feet----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And lifted the corner of the blind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I might.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When you'd seen me hanging on to the railings for all I was
+worth, trying to get my breath and whistle at the same time;
+you'd have stopped crying, whatever else you did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, how absurd you are! Fancy your hanging on to the
+railings for all you were worth! What did you really do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, I hung about and hung about, and then I slunk off home.
+Wasn't it silly to come and see you at that time of night? I
+knew you'd laugh!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I'd known you were there I shouldn't have cried. The idea,
+you darling! But, Rodney, why didn't you manage to get a peep at
+me the whole of yesterday?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think I didn't try?--but I couldn't; it was a day of
+horrors! Just as I was wondering if I couldn't manage to get at
+least a kiss by making out that Kensington was on the way to the
+City, the news came of what my uncle had done. That was a facer,
+for a man to get news like that just as he was finishing his
+breakfast.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But I thought you didn't get the news till you reached the
+City? You sent your first telegram from there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I got the news before, but I didn't understand; I didn't want
+to understand, I didn't dare to understand. Then I had to go to
+the inquest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you? It doesn't say anything in the paper about you being
+there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course not; my evidence wasn't wanted after all, but we all
+of us had to be there. It was awful!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You poor, poor boy! Afterwards why didn't you come straight to
+me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I couldn't; I had to rush off to the City.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Everything was in the most frightful confusion; no one knew why
+he had done it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But there was the verdict!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The verdict? My uncle was not a man to kill himself for a
+shadow; there might be a better reason. Say nothing to your
+father; I wish to impute nothing against my uncle's credit; but
+at one time it seemed just possible that he had done it, because
+he knew he was ruined, to save himself from shame, dishonour. We
+had to find out, to be certain, to make sure; we went all
+through the books; we went through everything; we were at it
+till the small hours of the morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear! Did they tell you I had called?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did they not! When I heard it I wished that I could have flown
+to you on a flying machine; but it was impossible.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But papa tells me that you talk about going to the office every
+day this week.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella, let me put a case. Suppose Mr. Austin were my uncle,
+and he had done what my uncle did, and everything were at sixes
+and sevens, and all the help was wanted that could be got, what
+would you think of me if I were to cut and run--it would amount
+to that!--even for the sake of the best and sweetest and
+prettiest and dearest girl in the world--meaning you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's all very well, Rodney; but I asked papa if he thought
+you really had to go--if you ought to go; and he said that so
+far as he could make out there wasn't the least necessity why
+you should ever set foot in the office again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your father said that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And I believe he's been making inquiries.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Has he? When I see your father I shall have to tell him that
+this is a matter in which I am afraid I shall have to use my own
+judgment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;At least you can get one day off to take me out--say
+to-morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To-morrow! It's my uncle's funeral.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well? There's no reason why you should go to it, if it is. Who
+expects you to go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For a moment it seemed as if the question had left the
+ready-tongued young gentleman nonplussed; but it was only for a
+moment.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Stella, isn't it sufficient answer to say that my uncle
+was the only relative I have in the world?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Rodney, I don't wish to comment on your sudden
+sensitiveness where your uncle is concerned. I never dreamt that
+you felt for him what you seem to feel; but I suppose your
+connection with him will cease when he is buried?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In a sense, certainly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In all senses?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Stella, I have already told you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To whom has he left his business?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Until the contents of the will are known who can
+say--positively?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Has he left it to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That I am quite sure he hasn't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Has he left you anything?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There again, till the will is read, who can be sure?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When is the will to be read?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To-morrow, after the funeral.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;At his house in Russell Square.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you invited to be present?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;'Invited' is scarcely the correct word; instructions have been
+issued that the whole staff is to attend. That rather looks as
+if he may have left something, possibly some trifle, to everyone
+who was actually in his employ at the time of his death.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I see. That explains why you want to be present at the funeral.
+And afterwards, when the will has been read, will you--dine with
+us? Papa wants me to dine, I think, at the Savoy, to what he
+calls 'celebrate' our engagement.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You may be sure I'll come if I can.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;'If'! It's again 'if.' Is it to be all 'ifs '?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dearest Stella, what do you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It doesn't matter. Shall we go to the drawing-room? I think we
+shall find that the Miss Claughtons and papa are waiting for us
+there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The young lady turned as if to leave the room. He caught her by
+the arm.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella, is it possible, is it conceivable, that you can imagine
+that what has happened is in the least degree, in any sense my
+fault? Can you suppose that I would not ten thousand times
+rather spend every hour of every day with you than do what I
+have done, what I may still have to do?--that my heart, my
+thoughts, are not with you every instant I have to spend in that
+confounded City?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, I am very anxious to believe that there are sufficient
+reasons which compel you to spend all the time you seem to spend
+in the City; but you don't manage to make it very clear what
+they are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella! Stella! How can you talk like that? What shall I say?
+What can I do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can promise to dine with us to-morrow night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I gladly promise it--gladly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's no 'if' about the promise?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No 'if'! If you only knew how I shall look forward to coming,
+what pleasure I shall give myself in coming! My dear, if you
+only knew how I am looking forward to dining with you all the
+days of all the year!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And, Rodney, papa understand that you are coming into his
+business; is that what you understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rather! You bet it is, if he'll have me. Do you think I'd throw
+away a chance like that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing that may be in your uncle's will will make any difference?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You goose! What do you suppose will be there? The probability is
+that there will be nothing of the slightest interest to me--at the
+most some trivial legacy--a hundred, fifty, five-and-twenty pounds!
+But let me tell you this, that in the present state of my exchequer
+even the latter sum will be a godsend. You don't know what it is
+to be in a chronic state of impecuniosity--a little millionaire
+like you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I, a millionaire!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You don't appreciate the situation; you really don't. Entirely
+between us, I wonder that I ever had the courage--the cheek!--to
+tell you how much I love you; how dear to me is the ground
+under your small feet; how I long to have you in my arms--you,
+with the Bank of England at your back; and I! But--Cæsar's
+ghost!--what am I dreaming about? The sight of you, the touch of
+you, the sound of you, has so--so got into the very bones of me
+that I'd clean forgotten. Why--Stella!--what's this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He took a small, round, leather-covered box out of his waistcoat
+pocket.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Rodney--how should I know what it is?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As she looked at the outside of the box her eyes began to
+sparkle--as if she did not know!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There! Why, it's a ring!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What a pet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Give me your hand!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's not the proper hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Isn't it? Which is the proper hand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney! How ignorant you are!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear, have I had your experience?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My experience!--silly! I thought everybody knew on which hand
+the engagement finger was--there!--that is the finger!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She held out to him a finger which, if it was small, was slim
+and daintily fashioned. He bent and kissed it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Dear digit!--salutation! Now, you unclothed midget, I'll clothe
+you with this ring.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, Rodney, what--what a darling!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She pressed it to her lips.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Does it fit?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As if it were made for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Isn't that wonderful, when I only guessed?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you--thank you, Rodney.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's only a poor little ring--a love token, to mark you as my
+own--that's all. But one day I'll give you the finest ring that
+money can buy, and you can put it in the place of this.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As if I ever would--or could! Rodney, this is the most
+beautiful ring I have ever seen--ever, ever, ever! And it always
+will be the most beautiful ring in the world--to me. No other
+will ever take its place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her voice fell as she moved a little closer to him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shall hope to be still wearing it when I am lying in my
+grave.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Dear love!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He took her in his arms and kissed her again, as it were,
+solemnly. He was practised in all varieties of the art. And they
+were silent.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_19" href="#div1Ref_19">THE FEW WORDS AT THE END OF THE EVENING</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">There were five of them at dinner--the lovers, the lady's
+father, her two hostesses--the Misses Claughton. These were
+cousins of her mother. Miss Claughton was tall and straight and
+prim; Miss Nancy Claughton, the younger sister, was stout and
+tender. Both ladies were disposed to make a fuss of Rodney, to
+invest him with a sort of halo, as if, in asking Stella to be
+his wife, he had done something which marked him out as an
+unusual young man. Mr. Austin's inclination was towards
+jocosity. Rodney had long since decided that a sense of humour
+was not that gentleman's strongest point. Dry he could be, he
+had rather an effective trick of it; but funny--no. His
+persistent efforts to be funny did not improve the flavour of
+what, from the young gentleman's point of view, was a
+sufficiently homely repast. The soup was doubtful, one could not
+be sure if it was meant to be clear or thick; the cod was boiled
+to rags--and, anyhow, he hated cod; the mutton was overdone; the
+sweets were suited to the nursery. Under the circumstances it
+was perhaps as well that, between Mr. Austin's jokes, the
+question chiefly discussed was where they should dine on
+the morrow. It was some consolation, Rodney felt, that there
+was a prospect of a decent meal after the passage of another
+four-and-twenty hours. The gentlemen did not remain at table
+when the feast was done; Mr. Austin was a teetotaller, and
+Rodney, when he had tasted Miss Claughton's claret, wished he
+was; so there was no temptation to linger over the wine. In the
+drawing-room they had &quot;music.&quot; Stella played and sang. Rodney,
+whose taste in music was as fastidious as in other things, would
+have been content had she done neither. She had not got a bad
+little voice; from the point of view of those who liked little
+voices of the kind; but he had always been of opinion that it
+was worth more to the professors of singing than to anybody
+else. Still, she sang straight at him, and for him only; so it
+was not so bad. Presently Mr. Austin vanished, and the Misses
+Claughton followed. So he put his arm about Stella's waist, and
+that was better. She was even more disposed to be made love to
+after dinner than before, and somehow she seemed prettier and
+sweeter and more desirable to him. Under such conditions he was
+the kind of young man who was bound to shine.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">After a while--quite an agreeable while--he led the conversation
+on to the subject which Mr. Austin had broached in the morning.
+The lady lent a complacent ear.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella, I have a very serious question which I wish to put to
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is it? If you can be serious.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You will find I can when you have heard my question; I pray you
+incline your little pink ears unto my question. Will you marry
+me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps, some day--silly!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When is 'some day'?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When would you like it to be?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;This day; to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, you--you really mustn't talk like that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why mustn't I?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You only proposed last Saturday.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well. Allow a week for that fact to get fixed firmly in your
+mind, another for preparation, why shouldn't 'some day' be
+Saturday week?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't be ridiculous.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's you who are ridiculous. If you keep me waiting long I
+shall kiss you all away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Am I the only girl you've ever kissed?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's a fib; I saw you kiss Mary.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gracious! When?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you been so much in the habit of kissing Mary that you
+need ask when?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If by Mary you mean Miss Carmichael, I don't remember to have
+ever kissed her once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, I remember. And let me tell you something, sir: there
+have been times when--I've been jealous of Mary.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good gracious me! what an extraordinary child! Miss
+Carmichael's sole recommendation to me has been that she's your
+friend; besides, hasn't Tom an eye on her?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, Tom! Tom never would see anything--like that; but I see.
+Honestly, don't you think Mary's very pretty?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;She's not bad, in a way; but she's not to be compared with
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That she certainly isn't; you don't imagine that you can make
+me believe that I'm--a tenth part as pretty as Mary? Do you take
+me for a perfect goose?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella, do you remember what you said before dinner about the
+ring. You said--I don't know if you meant it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I meant every word I said, Rodney.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, sweetheart, you said it was the most beautiful ring you
+had ever seen. Just as you said that, and meant it, I say and
+mean that you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen; and,
+to me, you will be the most beautiful girl, as long as I live.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you really mean that? Really?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;By the time we're--Darby and Joan, you'll know I mean it. Now,
+young woman, I'm as one who speaks with authority. I'm
+authorised to inform you that if you will stand with me at the
+altar inside a month you will make your mother happy and your
+father happy, to say nothing of me. So which day next month is
+it to be? Shall I put it at the first?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who told you to say that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your own father, this morning as ever was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Was--was the idea yours or his?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My very dearest--small one----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not so small as all that! You're not to call me small!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, all-that-my-heart-desireth, which you are, I will tell
+you with such precision as is in me. I said to him: 'I want her!
+I do want her! Oh, I want her badly! But, if I have to earn her,
+I'll have to wait for her, I dare not think how long.' Then he
+said to me--exactly what I've told you; and my heart sang. Do
+you doubt? Ask him! To me the point is: shall we say the first?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, do try to be sensible! You're a man, and you can't
+understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is that so? So long as you do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To a girl her wedding day is the day of her life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Some girls manage to have several wedding days, so I suppose
+they have two or three days in their lives.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There will be only one wedding day in my life. Whatever happens
+I want that to be, in every sense, a wonderful day; I want mine
+to be a pretty wedding.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;With you as bride that's assured.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A really pretty wedding can't be arranged at a moment's notice;
+it takes time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Half an hour--or three-quarters?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't be so silly! Mamma's coming up to town to-morrow. I'll
+consult her; then I shall have some idea how long a time it will
+take.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You mean how short a time! Do mean how short a time!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, how short a time. Rodney, how many bridesmaids would you
+like me to have?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bridesmaids? My dear! What are bridesmaids to me, so long as
+I've the bride? All--all--all I'm going to be married to is the
+bride!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are--a perfect----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes? A perfect--what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, I don't know! Rodney?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She hid her face upon his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I always wondered what there was in a kiss to make a fuss
+about. Now--I know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When he left it had been practically settled that the wedding
+should take place on the earliest possible day of the ensuing
+month.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He walked home, by way of Kensington High Street and the Park.
+And as he walked he mused, and more than once his musings moved
+him to something very much like laughter, out there in the
+solitude and the dark. Was ever man before in such a
+complication--promised at three weddings as bridegroom? As he
+tried to puzzle out how it all had come about it struck him as
+quite inconceivably comical. If he told the story to the ladies
+themselves they could scarcely fail to see how funny it was--at
+least, he hoped they would. The position would be simple enough
+if, as is still the custom in some of the more civilised
+countries of the world, a man could have wives galore. But if it
+came to choosing, why, there would be the rub. Mabel had her
+points; who knew it better than he? While as for Stella, he had
+never dreamed she was so charming. With her kisses still on his
+lips, her soft voice still in his ears, her pretty eyes still
+looking into his, how could he help but love her! Dear little
+Stella! A week all alone with her, even a fortnight--he would
+like to have the chance of it. Perhaps, after a fortnight, a
+little relaxation might be desirable, a sort of change of air.
+But why look so far ahead? Then there was Mary--but he dare not
+think of Mary Carmichael, even then. If he had ten thousand a
+year, and freedom, he would choose Mary Carmichael before all
+the girls he had ever met. But that was out of the question; he
+had better put her out of his mind. Things were already
+sufficiently complicated without adding her. On the whole, the
+circumstances being what they were, considering the position
+with the judicial calmness which was becoming, he plumped for
+Gladys; and--the business in St. Paul's Churchyard. Gladys
+Patterson should be his wife; yes, she should be his wife, on
+all accounts; on all!--if--if it was not necessary to take a
+voyage to foreign parts.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In that room on the second floor of the house in Kensington,
+Stella Austin, in her nightdress, her pretty hair hanging in two
+long plaits down her back, was on her knees beside her bed,
+seeming such a child. She was thanking God for all His goodness
+to her--she always began her prayers by thanking God. She
+thanked Him for many things, but chiefly, and beyond all else,
+for having given her so thoughtful, so tender, so true a lover.
+God knew how happy He had made her, and how full her heart was
+of gratitude to Him. And she prayed that God would make her
+worthy of the lover He had given. She knew how, in so many ways,
+he was above her, above anything she might ever hope to be; she
+prayed God that He would give her strength and grace, so that
+she might be at least a little more deserving. She had been
+unkind to-night, and--and wickedly jealous; she knew she had.
+Please God make her kinder and less selfish! And, when the time
+came, please God, make her a good wife, a good wife!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At this point articulate utterance ceased, her face fell forward
+on the coverlet because her eyes were streaming with tears. It
+was to her such a solemn and beautiful thought that she would
+before very long be Rodney Elmore's wife that she trembled with
+the very rapture of it, so that she could no longer even go on
+with her prayers.</p>
+<br>
+
+<p style="text-align:center; letter-spacing:40px">* * * * *</p>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">When Mr. Elmore reached his lodgings, with the exception of the
+light in his sitting-room, the house was in darkness. But if
+that signified that the household had retired to rest, it did
+not follow that everyone was asleep, as he was presently to
+learn. He had only been in his room a couple of minutes when the
+door opened noiselessly--to admit Miss Joyce. Coming right in,
+she stood with her back to the door, which she closed behind
+her. She was in a state of undress which did not become her ill.
+As he eyed her Rodney compared her, mentally, with Stella; not
+to her disadvantage. She really was a good-looking girl;
+only--he did not like the look which was on her white face and
+in her eyes. He felt sure someone would notice it, and questions
+would be asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She spoke in so faint a whisper that what she said was only just
+audible; his voice was lowered in sympathy with hers.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mother's come back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Has she? That's good hearing. I hope she had a good time at
+your aunt's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've got the licence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The----? Oh, have you? That also is good hearing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It cost me two pounds four and six.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did it? I hope you consider it to be worth the money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've fixed it for Thursday at noon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Noon? Isn't that--rather an unfashionable hour?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mind you're there! You've promised! I've got your promise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Am I likely to forget--the circumstances under which you got my
+promise?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you're not there you'll be sorry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Honestly, Mabel, I think we shall both of us be sorry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You will! There's--there's another thing; I--I want to warn
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Warn me? Haven't you done that once or twice already?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I want to warn you against Mr. Dale.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Against Mr. Dale? Why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I believe he suspects.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Suspects? What? About you and me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;About--your uncle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What does he suspect about my uncle?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He's been finding out things. Ssh! there's someone moving.
+Perhaps it's mother; she mustn't find me here, like this.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She flitted from the room as noiselessly as she had entered,
+shutting the door without its making a sound. He stood and
+listened. Perhaps it was her conscience which had made her fancy
+noises--all seemed still. If she had ascended to her room on the
+landing, a ghost could not have moved more silently.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_20" href="#div1Ref_20">THE FIRST LINE OF AN OLD SONG</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney Elmore had the unusual attribute of seeming at his best
+in the morning, as if calm, unruffled sleep, having removed the
+cobwebs from his brain, returned him rested and buoyant to a
+world in which there were no shadows. When, on the Wednesday
+morning, he came downstairs with light steps and dancing eyes,
+he found among the letters on the breakfast table one which was
+addressed in a familiar hand. He gave it pride of place.</p>
+<br>
+<div style="margin-left:5%">
+<p class="normal">&quot;<span class="sc">My Dear R.</span>,--I don't know what possesses me, but I feel that I
+simply must write and tell you that I wish you were within
+kissing distance. Isn't that a ridiculous feeling to have,
+especially where you're concerned? Do you think that I don't
+know? I have been conscious of the most extraordinary sensations
+since Sunday. I made a mistake in asking you to come and console
+me. You did it so effectually that--well, I would like you to
+continue the treatment. There's a dreadful thing to say! Aren't
+I a wretch? Poor dear Tom! I know he has all the good qualities
+I haven't, and that he'll make me the best husband in the world,
+but as for his consoling me--oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear! I
+don't like the idea at all! I'm nearly sure that, after all, the
+best husband in the world is not the one I'm looking for. What
+makes me feel so all over pins and needles when I'm with Tom,
+and so comfy when I'm with you? Isn't it odd? Have you any
+feeling of the kind where I'm concerned? I know you'll say so,
+but have you? You'd say anything to anyone, but, all the same,
+I've a feeling somewhere that, if I chose, I could have you on a
+little bit of string. I daren't ask you to come here again, I
+simply daren't; but, if you do come, mind you give me proper
+warning. What would you say if I ran up to town? Should I see
+Stella at the corner of every street? Sweet Stella! Aren't I a
+cat? I suppose you couldn't rob a bank or something? If you and
+I were starting off to-morrow together, ever so far, for ever so
+long--I dare not think of it, and that's the honest truth.
+Aren't I insane? No one but you would ever guess it.--M.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mind you tear this up the very moment you have read it, and
+you're to forget that you ever did read it!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;By the way, by which train did you go up on Sunday? You weren't
+sure that you could catch the Pullman, and, if you did miss it,
+did you go by the 9.10? In that case you must have been in the
+same train as your uncle. When I saw about it in the paper it
+gave me quite a shock. Fancy if he was in the next carriage to
+yours? I suppose the dear man hasn't left you a millionaire? If
+he only had! You would--wouldn't you?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tear it up!&quot;</p>
+</div>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">He had just finished reading this somewhat interjectional
+epistle when Miss Joyce came in, the bearer of his morning meal.
+He greeted her as if he were really pleased to see her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The top of the morning to you, Baby! How moves the world your
+way? Do you feel like dancing on your pink toes?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When he called her Baby, the pet name he had for her, she
+glanced up at him, almost as if she were startled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you understand what I said to you last night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perfectly; I've been thinking it all over, and I've come to a
+decision. I think you're quite right in what you wish me to do.
+As this isn't Leap Year, let me regularise the position. Mabel,
+I would like you to be my wife. Will you take me for your
+husband?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You say that because you know you can't help yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are mistaken. If I didn't want to be your husband, nothing
+you or anyone could say or do could make me, rest assured of
+that. I won't pretend that, if things had turned out
+differently, I--should have suggested it; but, as they are,
+please, Mabel, let me do the proposing--say you will be my
+wife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm going to be your wife; to-morrow, Thursday, at noon, and
+don't you make any mistake. There's the address of the
+registrar's office at which you're going to be married, and mind
+you're there to time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Baby--you are only a baby, after all--don't talk like that;
+don't let's enter the matrimonial state as if we wished to cut
+each other's throats; let's start afresh on the old terms. I
+hope that when we're being married you won't have those white
+cheeks and unhappy eyes, or the registrar will think that I'm
+frightening you into being my bride, and you know that will be
+wrong.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, do you care for me a little bit?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Mabel, I care for you in an altogether different
+fashion from that which you suppose, as I hope to be able to
+prove to you before very long. Come, let's be friends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't touch me--don't! Mother's waiting for me. She wants me
+for something; she told me not to be long. I--I want to speak to
+you before I go. I--I want to warn you against Mr. Dale.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You said something to that effect last night. Is Mr. Dale so
+dangerous?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He's jealous of you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, does that constitute him dangerous?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He always has been throwing out nasty hints about you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To whom? Surely not to you? You wouldn't listen to what you
+yourself call nasty hints about me coming from a man like Dale?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It wasn't so much that I listened as that he was always at it
+whenever he came near me. I couldn't stop him. I suppose that my
+asking him about your going to Brighton on Sunday, and my going
+to the inquest, and such-like, made him--made him----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes? Made him what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Started him thinking. Anyhow, he's--he's been finding out
+things, and--I don't know that he hasn't found out. You take
+care of him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Mabel, in what sense am I to take care of him? I'm
+inclined to think that I should rather like to have a talk with
+your friend Mr. Dale.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You'll do no good by that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Shan't I? We'll see. Where is he to be found--in the booking
+office at Victoria Station?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;One week he goes early and comes back about six; the next he
+has his dinner first and doesn't come back till after one--this
+is his late week. He hasn't had his breakfast yet; he's still up
+in his room.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is that so? I'm afraid I can't stop to talk to him just now,
+but I certainly will take the first chance which offers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you say anything to him to make him nasty!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A feminine voice was heard calling the young lady's name.
+&quot;There's mother calling. She'll give me a talking to! Mind,
+to-morrow at noon; and there's the address upon that piece of
+paper.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Mabel, I'm making arrangements which will permit of my
+placing the whole of to-morrow at your service. I promise that
+you shall have something like a wedding day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When the lady had gone the gentleman poured himself out a cup of
+coffee with the air of one who was in the enjoyment of an
+excellent joke. He propped Miss Carmichael's letter up against
+the coffee-pot and read it through again. The second reading
+seemed to add to his sense of enjoyment.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rob a bank? Quite as heinous crimes have been committed for the
+sake of a woman. I've always had a kind of fancy that you're the
+type of girl for whom it would be worth one's while to do such
+things. If I were to ask you to start upon that little trip at
+which you hint, I wonder what you'd say--if you knew. Hullo!
+what's this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was staring at a sheet of paper which he had taken out of one
+of the three or four envelopes which were lying on the table. On
+it were a couple of typewritten lines:</p>
+<br>
+<div style="margin-left:5%">
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you take a friend's advice you will get clean away while you
+have still a chance.&quot;</p>
+</div>
+<br>
+<p class="normal">He regarded the words as if in doubt as to whether they were
+intended to convey to him an esoteric meaning.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No signature, no address, no date; the first anonymous
+communication I ever have been favoured with. Postmark on the
+envelope, Kew, dispatched from there last night at eight
+o'clock, which doesn't convey much intelligence to me. So far as
+I'm aware I have no acquaintance who resides at Kew; and I
+suppose an anonymous correspondent, if he had his head screwed
+on, is scarcely likely to reside in the district from which he
+sends his letter. It's very good of a friend to make a friendly
+suggestion, but quite what he means I do not know; nor have I
+the very dimmest notion who the friend may be. Come in!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Someone had tapped at the door. In response to his invitation a
+young man entered of about his own age; not tall, but sturdily
+built, with close-cut black hair, small dark eyes, and a
+somewhat voluminous moustache. There was that in his manner
+which hinted that he was in a state of some excitement; that,
+indeed, he was an excitable young man. He came right up to the
+table, with a billycock hat in one hand and a bamboo cane in the
+other. He looked at Elmore with what were scarcely friendly
+eyes. When he spoke it was in what evidently were lowered tones
+and with a curious, staccato utterance, as if he wished to throw
+his words into the other's face.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You'll have to excuse my coming in like this, but I'm going
+out, and I want to speak to you before I do go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's very good of you. I believe you are Mr. Dale.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My name is Dale--George Dale, as you very well know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pray sit down, Mr. Dale. I don't remember to have had the
+pleasure of being introduced to you before.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Thanking you all the same, I won't sit down, and as to being
+introduced to you, I never have been. It's only for your sake
+I'm speaking to you now. I want to ask you a question to begin
+with.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ask it, Mr. Dale.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What are your intentions as regards Miss Joyce?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Really, Mr. Dale, I don't know if you are joking in putting
+such a question. If you aren't I certainly don't know what you
+mean.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney smiled at his visitor pleasantly; but the smile, instead
+of affording Mr. Dale gratification, not only caused his scowl
+to deepen, but induced him to use language of unexpected vigour.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're a liar! That's what you are--a liar! You're a liar,
+because you know quite well what I mean. I'm not afraid of you.
+You're a bigger man than I am, but I can use the gloves. You
+wouldn't knock me out so easy as you think. I'd mark you first!
+But I haven't come here to fight you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That, at least, is gratifying intelligence, Mr. Dale.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, you can sneer--you're one of the sneering sort; but sneers
+won't do you any good. You take my tip and get as far away from
+this as you can--out of England, if you can!--between now and
+this time to-morrow!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney regarded his visitor with an air of placid amusement,
+which certainly did not seem to have a soothing effect.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Dale, am I indebted to you for this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He held out the sheet of paper on which were the two typewritten
+lines. Mr. Dale eyed it askance.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's that? Where did you get it from?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It came by this morning's post--from you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That I'll swear it never did; what's more, I don't know who it
+does come from. That looks as if there were more than one in it.
+I'll commit myself to nothing. I've got myself to think of as
+well as you; but, although this didn't come from me, and I don't
+know anything at all about it, you do what it says here--get
+clean away while you have still a chance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Without another word, or giving Rodney a chance to utter one,
+Mr. Dale bolted from, rather than left, the room; within ten
+seconds of his going the slamming of the front door announced
+that he had left the house. For some seconds Elmore sat still;
+then, getting up from his chair, began to fill a pipe with
+tobacco. Miss Joyce put her head into the room, noiselessly,
+unexpectedly, as she seemed to have a trick of doing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Was that Mr. Dale? I thought it might be you. Has he been in
+here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He has. You come in and take away the breakfast things; I've
+had all I want to eat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Coming in, she began to do as he had said, talking, as she put
+the things together, in a half whisper which recalled Mr. Dale's
+staccato undertones. It seemed to be a house of whispers.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What did he say to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He came to offer me a tip.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A tip?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He said that if I took his tip I shouldn't stand upon the order
+of my going, but go at once, and go as far as possible between
+now and to-morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She put both hands to her left side, as if unconscious that she
+had a plate in one and a teaspoon in the other.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney! Then--then--what are you going to do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But if he tells?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tells what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He said to me last night that if anyone knows that--that
+someone has killed a person, and doesn't at once inform the
+police, that's being an accessory after the fact.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well? He was merely acquainting you with what I take is a legal
+truism.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then he said that, whatever I might choose to do, he did not
+mean to be an accessory, either before the fact or after. Then
+he looked at me in such a way--I knew what he meant--and he went
+right off to bed without saying another word.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What had you been talking about?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;About--your uncle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Had he introduced the subject or had you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He had; he would keep talking about it. Rodney, he knows,
+and--he's going to tell.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then, in that case, it looks as if you will gain little by
+becoming my wife, and that I shall gain nothing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, I want you to get out of your head what I said the
+other night. I don't want to force you to marry me, and I never
+did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then you've rather an unfortunate way of expressing yourself,
+don't you think so, my dear Mabel?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I didn't know how else to do what I wanted to do. It's quite
+true that if I'm not going to be your wife I'll kill myself; but
+that doesn't matter--I'd just as soon die as live. But I do want
+to save you, and the only way I can do it is for you to marry
+me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That may keep you from playing the tell-tale, but how is it
+going to affect Mr. Dale?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He won't tell if I'm your wife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Won't he? Why? I should have thought, if your story's correct,
+that he'd have told all the more, that disappointment would have
+inflamed him to madness.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney, as he said this, struck a match to light his pipe, and
+laughed. Nothing could have seemed less like laughter than the
+girl's white face and haunted eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He'd tell to keep me from being your wife, but if I were your
+wife he'd never tell. I know him; he'd suffer anything rather
+than do anything which would give me pain or bring me to shame;
+if I were your wife he'd never tell. You're a gentleman, Rodney,
+and I'm not a lady, and I don't suppose I ever shall be; I'm
+just a girl who has let you do what you like with her, and
+you're cleverer than I am--much, much cleverer; but, in this, do
+be advised by me--do, dear, do! There is something here,
+something which makes me sure that the only way out of it, for
+you, is for you to make me your wife. I know you don't want to
+do it, that you never meant to do it, and I can quite understand
+why; but you'd better have me for your wife than--than that;
+don't you see, dear, that you had? I shan't be able to tell, and
+George Dale won't, and no one else knows, and instead of trying
+to find out more he'll keep others from finding out anything;
+he'll be on your side instead of against you, for my sake.
+Rodney, I implore you--for your own sake, dear, your own
+sake!--to do as you promised, and marry me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She pleaded to be allowed to save his life as if she were
+pleading for her own life. He turned to shake the ash from his
+pipe into the fender, and so remained, for some moments, with
+his back to her; while her eyes looked as if they were crying
+out to him. When he turned to her again he was pressing the
+tobacco down into his pipe before restoring it to his lips,
+smiling as he looked at her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Mabel, I'm not certain that I follow your reasoning,
+but do make your mind easy; I've promised to marry you
+to-morrow, and I will--on the stroke of noon--to the tick, for
+my sake as well as for yours. And, though the fates don't seem
+over propitious at the moment, I dare say we shall be quite as
+happy as the average married folk--at least, I'll marry you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You mean it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do--unreservedly; please understand that once more, and once
+for all. You shall have something like a wedding day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wish--I wish it were to-day; I'm afraid--of what may
+happen--before to-morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of whatever you may be afraid, I'm afraid that it couldn't be
+to-day. It's my uncle's funeral to-day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney! You--you're not going!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am; as chief mourner.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, you--you can't do a thing like that! You--you mustn't!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As she spoke an elderly woman came into the room, of a somewhat
+portly presence--the lady's mother. Seemingly she was in a mood
+to be garrulous.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What mustn't he do? Excuse me, Mr. Elmore, for coming in like
+this, but really, Mabel, I don't know what you are thinking
+about. I'm sure Mr. Elmore wants to go to his business, and
+here's all the work at a standstill----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All right, mother; Mr. Elmore doesn't want to hear you
+grumbling at me, I know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Without waiting for her mother to continue her observations,
+Miss Joyce bustled out of the room with the breakfast tray in
+her hands. Left alone with him, the landlady addressed her
+lodger.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the matter with the girl I can't think; I never saw
+anything like the change that's come over her the last few days;
+she looks more fit for a hospital than anything else--and her
+temper! She never says anything to me; I suppose you don't know
+what's wrong?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mrs. Joyce, I'm not your daughter's confidant; she certainly
+says nothing to me in the sense you mean. Why do you take it for
+granted that anything's wrong?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Because I've got two eyes in my head, that's why. She's not the
+same girl she was; that something's wrong I'm certain sure; but
+she snaps my nose off directly I open my mouth. I know she
+thinks a lot of you. I wondered if she'd said anything to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Absolutely nothing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then I can't understand the girl, and that's flat!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With that somewhat cryptic utterance Mrs. Joyce went out of the
+room as impetuously as she had entered. Rodney stood looking at
+the door for a moment or two, as if in doubt whether she would
+return. He tore the sheet of paper on which were the two
+typewritten lines into tiny scraps and dropped them into the
+fireplace. Re-reading Miss Carmichael's epistle, he obeyed her
+injunctions, a little tardily, perhaps, and sent the fragments
+after the others, repeating to himself as he did so a line from
+an old song:</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">&quot;Of all the girls that are so sweet!&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p class="normal">Then he took an oblong piece of paper out of a letter-case and
+studied it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;'Steamship <i>Cedric</i>.--John Griffiths, passenger to New York,
+cabin forty-five, berth A.' I wonder if it will be occupied, or
+if the money's wasted. That's for to-morrow, or is it to be
+Buenos Ayres on Friday, or New York on Saturday?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who knows if it is to be either?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had left the house and was descending the steps when a
+telegraph boy approached, with a yellow envelope in his hand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who's it for?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney Elmore, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am Rodney Elmore. Wait and see if there's an answer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The telegram which the envelope contained was a lengthy one; it
+covered the whole of the pink slip of paper. He read it through
+once, then again. As he read it the second time he whistled,
+very softly, as if unconsciously, the opening bars of &quot;Sally in
+Our Alley.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There is an answer. Give me a form.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He spread the form the boy gave him out upon his letter-case,
+then he seemed to consider what to say; then read the telegram
+he had received a third time, as if in search of light and
+leading. Arriving at a sudden decision, he wrote on the form the
+name and address of the person to whom the message was to be
+sent, and then one word, &quot;Right.&quot; He added nothing which would
+show who the sender was; evidently he took it for granted that
+it would be recognised that the message came from him. As he
+watched the lad mount his bicycle and pedal away, he said to
+himself, always with that characteristic air of his, as of one
+who appreciates a capital jest:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That settles it! Now the plot does begin to thicken.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_21" href="#div1Ref_21">THE DEAD MAN'S LETTER</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">The final understanding had been that those who were to go to
+the bank, in order that arrangements might be made which would
+give them immediate access to the funds of the late Graham
+Patterson, were to meet at the office in St. Paul's Churchyard.
+On the way to the City Rodney paid two or three calls. When he
+entered the office the outer rooms were empty; there was a
+notice on the outer door to the effect that business was
+suspended on account of Mr. Patterson's funeral. Mr. Andrews
+came out of what had been the late proprietor's own sanctum to
+greet him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Wilkes is here, Mr. Elmore, and particularly wishes to see
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney said nothing, but his look suggested that he resented
+something which he noticed in the other's manner, as well as the
+fact that he had come out of that particular room. Passing on in
+silence to the private office, he found Mr. Wilkes seated, not
+in his uncle's own chair, as he had been on Monday, but in one
+close to it. He did not rise as the young man entered, but
+contented himself with nodding slightly. Rodney, scenting
+something antagonistic in the other's presence there as well as
+in his attitude, did not even nod. He marched straight to the
+chair behind the writing-table, which he chose now to regard as
+his own, and which was within a yard of that on which the other
+was seated, and, remaining standing himself, looked down on the
+lawyer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To what am I indebted, Mr. Wilkes, for your presence to-day?
+Did you not notice the intimation on the door, informing all and
+sundry that these offices are closed? If it is a business matter
+on which you have called, I must ask you to postpone it, at any
+rate until to-morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Instead of showing any disposition to take himself off, as the
+other so plainly suggested, the dark-visaged lawyer, leaning
+back in his chair, looked up at the young man with something in
+his glance which was not exactly complimentary.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have come, Mr. Elmore, a good deal against my own wish, in
+consequence of a communication which I have received from Mr.
+Patterson.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;From--what do you mean, from Mr. Patterson?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A letter came to my office yesterday evening, after I had
+left, which was placed in my hands this morning. Before
+proceeding to take other steps, I thought it might perhaps save
+unpleasantness, and be fairer to you, if, in the first instance,
+I acquainted you with its substance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;From whom is the letter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;From your late uncle, Graham Patterson.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You say it reached you last night? I don't understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nor I, as yet, quite; I can only form a hypothesis. It seems
+that the letter was written at Brighton some time on Sunday.
+Clearly, from the postmark, it was posted at Brighton on Sunday.
+It ought to have reached me, of course, on Monday, but the
+presumption is that, owing to some vagary of the Post Office, it
+went astray, so that it has been more than two days on the road,
+instead of only a few hours. Under the circumstances that seems
+rather a curious accident. Here is the letter. I warn you that
+you will not find it a pleasant one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is it absolutely necessary, then, that I should know its
+contents? My relations with Mr. Patterson were not of a kind to
+lead me to expect any pleasantness from him, either on paper or
+off it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The position is this. It is my duty to place this letter
+before--someone else, when very serious consequences may ensue;
+but, by taking a certain course, you may relieve me of the
+duty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In that case, let me know what is in the letter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I had better read it to you, so that you may understand that
+the language is the writer's, not mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Wilkes withdrew a letter from an envelope which he took from
+his pocket; the envelope he held out to Rodney.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You see? The address is in your uncle's hand; it was
+post-marked at Brighton on Sunday evening, so there can be no
+doubt about the date on which it was dispatched.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lawyer proceeded to read the letter out loud, with a dryness
+which seemed to give it peculiar point.</p>
+<br>
+<div style="margin-left:5%">
+<p class="normal">&quot;'<span class="sc">Dear Stephen</span>' [my Christian name, I may remind you, is
+Stephen],--'I want you to draw up a codicil to my will, and to
+have it ready for my signature to-morrow--Monday afternoon.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;'It is to be to the effect that if my daughter marries my
+nephew, Rodney Elmore, then all that portion of my will which
+refers to her is to be null and void--she is not to have a
+penny. All that would have been hers is to be divided equally
+among the following charities.' [Then follows a list of them;
+there are eight. Then the letter goes on]: 'I hope that's clear
+enough. Between ourselves, Master Elmore is an all-round
+scoundrel; I swear to you that I'm convinced that no rascality
+would be too steep for him. He is a liar of the very first
+water, a thief, and a forger; so much I can prove. I would
+sooner have my girl dead than his wife; the damned young
+blackguard is after her for all he knows. But I am going to
+clear him out in charge of a constable when I get back to the
+office; I doubt if he has got tight enough hold of my girl to
+induce her to marry a convict--it will be a clear case of penal
+servitude for him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;'I know you will think I am writing strongly, but that is
+because I feel strongly. When I tell you the whole story you
+will admit that I am justified.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;'Mind you have that codicil ready, on the lines I have given; I
+will call in on my way back from the office and sign. I know you
+do not touch criminal business as a rule, but you will have to
+make an exception in my case. I want you to instruct counsel in
+the matter of Master Elmore, for reasons which I will make clear
+to you when we meet. Sincerely yours,</p>
+
+<p style="text-indent:50%">&quot;'<span class="sc">Graham Patterson</span>.'&quot;</p>
+</div>
+<br>
+<p class="normal">When the lawyer had done reading he lowered the letter and
+glanced up at the young man, who still stood towering above him.
+If he expected to find on his face any signs of confusion, still
+less of guilt or shame, his expectation was not realised. There
+was a look rather on Rodney's countenance of scorn, of
+confidence in himself, of contempt for whoever might speak ill
+of him, which became him very well. His remarks, when they came,
+possibly scarcely breathed the spirit the solicitor had looked
+for.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you read that letter to Mr. Andrews?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you made him acquainted with its contents?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have dropped no hint to him of its existence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have no pretensions to knowledge of the law of libel, but it
+is pretty clear that no action can be brought against the man
+who wrote that letter. With you the case is different. It was
+written, I presume, in confidence to you. If you bring it to the
+notice of anybody else you make yourself responsible for the
+statements it contains--you publish them. If you call my honour
+in question by publishing such a farrago of lies about me I will
+first of all thrash you, as they have it, to within an inch of
+your life, and then, if needs be, I will spend my last penny in
+calling you to account in a court of law. You shall not shelter
+yourself behind a dead man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You use strong language, Mr. Elmore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Could I use stronger language than that letter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I understand that you deny the statements it contains?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do I understand that you associate yourself with your
+correspondent so far as to require a denial?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You misapprehend the situation; whether wilfully or not I don't
+know. I have no personal concern in this matter at all;
+eliminate that idea from your mind. Graham Patterson was my
+client living; in a sense he is still my client dead. I have no
+option but to continue to do my duty to him without fear or
+favour.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I presume in return for a certain fee, Mr. Wilkes?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You forget yourself, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In this room, Mr. Wilkes, eliminate from your mind all legal
+fictions. Don't, for your own sake, drive the fact that you are
+acting as my uncle's bravo too far home. In the face of that
+letter I begin to understand why he committed suicide. He was
+either drunk or mad when he wrote it. When sobriety or sanity
+returned, realising the situation in which he had placed
+himself, rather than face the consequences of what he had done,
+he took his own life. Don't you show yourself to be in
+possession of the dastard's courage which he lacked.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You take up an extraordinary position, Mr. Elmore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is the position you take up?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Here is a letter from a man to his lawyer, in which he gives
+him instructions to make certain alterations in his will,
+stating reasons why he wishes those alterations to be made. It
+is signed, dated; its authenticity can be readily established. I
+am not sure that it has not a certain testamentary value.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you suggesting that that letter in any way affects my
+uncle's will?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am not prepared to give a definite opinion; but this I will
+say, that if its existence were to come to the knowledge of the
+societies herein mentioned, they would be justified in taking
+counsel's opinion, and quite possibly he would advise their
+taking further action.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are, of course, at liberty to take any steps with regard to
+that tissue of libels you please, especially as I have made it,
+I think, perfectly clear to you that you will do so at your own
+proper peril.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Evidently your uncle was averse to your marrying his daughter.
+Am I to take it that you admit so much?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, I admit so much; he always was averse to that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then, in that case, you will at once resolve the difficulty by
+withdrawing all pretensions to Miss Patterson's hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Damn your impudence, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is that your answer?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is; with this addition--that I hope, and intend, to marry
+Miss Patterson at the earliest possible moment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then, in that case, you leave me no option but to place this
+letter before Miss Patterson.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is that meant for a threat?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Andrews appeared in the doorway to announce that Mr. Parmiter
+was in the outer office.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Show Mr. Parmiter in at once for a few minutes, Andrews, if you
+please.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As the young solicitor came in Rodney advanced to greet him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hallo, Parmiter! you come in the very nick of time--you see Mr.
+Wilkes has favoured me with his company again. Mr. Wilkes, read
+to Mr. Parmiter the letter you just now read to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shall certainly do nothing of the kind. With all possible
+respect to Mr. Parmiter, this is a matter in which he has no
+<i>locus standi</i>, and in which I cannot recognise him at all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why not? He is my solicitor; he advises me. When you have made
+known to him the contents of that letter, don't you think it
+possible that he may give me the advice which, apparently, you
+would like him to give?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">While he was still speaking the door opened to admit Miss
+Patterson. He moved to her with both hands held out.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now, here is someone whom, I presume, you will recognise--the
+very person. Gladys, here is Mr. Wilkes. He has something which
+he very much wishes to say to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Returning the letter to its envelope, Mr. Wilkes rose from his
+chair.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My hands are not going to be forced by you, Mr. Elmore, don't
+you suppose it. In making any communication to Miss Patterson
+which I may have to make, I shall prefer to choose my own time
+and place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's it, is it? I quite appreciate the reasons which actuate
+you, Mr. Wilkes, in wishing to make what you call your
+communication to Miss Patterson behind my back; and I think that
+Miss Patterson will appreciate them equally well. Mr. Wilkes has
+in his hand what he claims to be a letter from your father. If
+you take my advice you will insist on his showing it to you at
+once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Miss Patterson was quick to act on the hint which her lover gave
+her. She moved close up to the lawyer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Wilkes, be so good as to let me see the letter to which my
+cousin refers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;With pleasure, Miss Patterson, at--if you will allow me to say
+so--some more convenient season; the sooner the better. For
+instance, may I have a few minutes' private conversation with
+you this afternoon? The matter on which I wish to speak to you
+is for your ear only.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You have spoken of it to my cousin?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, yes; he has spoken of it to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then, why can you not speak of it to me in his presence?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I will write to you on the subject, Miss Patterson, and will
+endeavour to make my reasons clear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He made as if to move towards the door. She placed herself in
+front of him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;One moment, Mr. Wilkes. Any letter from you will be handed to
+Mr. Elmore, unopened. I will have no private communication with
+you, nor, if I can help it, will I have any communication with
+you of any sort or kind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I regret to hear you say so, Miss Patterson, and can only
+deplore the attitude of mind which prompts you to arrive at what
+I cannot but feel is a most unfortunate decision.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are impertinent, Mr. Wilkes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lawyer, with his dark eyes fixed on the lady's face, raised
+the hand in which was the envelope which contained the letter
+with the intention of slipping it into an inner pocket of his
+coat. Her quick glance recognised the handwriting of the
+address.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's from dad!&quot; she cried. &quot;It's a letter from dad!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She had snatched the letter from between the lawyer's fingers
+before he had the faintest inkling of what she was about to do.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Miss Patterson,&quot; he exclaimed, &quot;give me back that letter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She retreated, as he showed a disposition to advance. Mr. Elmore
+interposed himself between the lawyer and the lady.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Steady, Mr. Wilkes, steady. You told me that it would be your
+duty to place that letter in Miss Patterson's hands. It is in
+her hands. What objection have you to offer?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Whatever protest the lawyer might have been inclined to make he
+apparently came to the conclusion that, at the moment, it would
+be futile to make any. He withdrew himself from Elmore's
+immediate neighbourhood, and observed the lady, as she read the
+letter. She read it without comment to the end. Then she asked:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When did you get this letter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It reached my office last night, and me this morning; but, as
+you see, it was written on Sunday, and would appear to have been
+delayed in the post.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She turned to Rodney.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you read this letter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It has been read aloud to me, which comes to the same thing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know--what he says at the end?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do; Mr. Wilkes took special care of that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is it true?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is absolutely false. There is not one word of truth in it.
+It comes to me as a complete surprise. Never by so much as a
+word did your father lead me to suppose that he had such
+thoughts of me. I cannot conceive what can have been the
+condition of his mind when he wrote in such a strain. But that
+letter enables me to begin to understand that something must
+have happened to him mentally, and that when he committed
+suicide he actually was insane.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Miss Patterson tore the letter in half from top to bottom. The
+lawyer broke into exclamation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Miss Patterson! What are you doing? You must not do that! Not
+only is it not your letter, but it is a document of the gravest
+legal importance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Paying him no heed whatever, the girl continued in silence the
+destruction of the letter, going about the business in the most
+thorough-going manner, reducing it to the tiniest atoms. When
+she had finished with the letter itself, she proceeded to
+dispose of the envelope, Mr. Wilkes expostulating hotly all the
+time, but kept from active interference by the insistent fashion
+with which Mr. Elmore prevented him from getting near the lady.
+Compelled at last to own that it was useless to attempt to stay
+her, he called upon his colleague to take notice of the outrage
+to which the letter was subjected, to say nothing of himself.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Parmiter, you are witness of what is being done. This young
+lady, with the connivance and, indeed, assistance of this young
+man, is destroying a document of the first importance, which is
+not only in no sense her own property, but which was obtained
+from me by what is tantamount to an act of robbery, accompanied,
+in a legal sense, by violence. Of these facts you will be called
+upon, in due course, to give evidence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Parmiter was still, but the lady spoke.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you not forgetting that Mr. Parmiter is my solicitor, and
+that a solicitor cannot give evidence against his own client? I
+am sorry to have to seem to teach you law, Mr. Wilkes. Rodney,
+have you a match? If so, will you please burn these?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She held out the fragments of the letter. Mr. Wilkes made a
+final attempt at salvage.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Miss Patterson, I implore you to give me those scraps of paper.
+It may still not be too late to piece them together, and so save
+you from consequences of whose gravity you have no notion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Once more the young gentleman interposed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Steady, Mr. Wilkes, steady!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Remove your hand from my shoulder, sir! You are only making
+your position every moment more and more serious!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again the lady spoke.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To use a phrase of which you seem to be rather fond, Mr.
+Wilkes, in a legal sense, I believe this is my room. I must ask
+you to leave it at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not before you have given me those scraps of paper, Miss
+Patterson!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you won't go, I shall reluctantly have to ask Mr. Elmore to
+put you out, and, in doing so, to use no more violence than is
+necessary.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I entreat you, Miss Patterson, to accept sound advice, and to
+do something which may permit of my repairing the mischief you
+have caused. Give me those scraps of paper.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, will you please put Mr. Wilkes out? But please don't
+hurt him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The young man put the lawyer out, doing him no actual bodily
+hurt. He conducted him through the outer office to the landing,
+then addressed the astonished Andrews.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Andrews, this is Mr. Stephen Wilkes; I believe you know him.
+Give instructions that, under no pretext, is he to be admitted
+to these offices again. I shall look to you to see that those
+instructions are carried out. Good-day, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Shutting the door in the lawyer's face, he audibly turned the
+key on the inner side.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now, Andrews, would you mind coming into the other room?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Miss Patterson greeted her cousin with the request she had
+already made. She still had the fragments of the letter between
+her fingers.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How about that match, Rodney? Please burn these.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He made a little bonfire of them on the hearth, while she went
+on:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't suppose you will be very eager now to attend my
+father's funeral in the capacity of mourner.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am not. I would much rather not go at all, if you will pardon
+the abstention.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I would much rather you did not go either--so, Andrews, that is
+settled. Also, be so good as to understand that I should prefer
+that the funeral should not start from Russell Square.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Patterson's body had been removed from the station to the
+undertaker's, where it at present reposed in a handsome example
+of the undertaker's art. The idea had been to bring it in a
+hearse to Russell Square, whence the funeral cortège was to
+start. It was this arrangement which Miss Patterson wished to
+have altered. The managing man silently acquiesced; there was
+still time to give instructions that all that was left of his
+late employer was to be taken straight from the undertaker's to
+the cemetery.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_22" href="#div1Ref_22">PHILIP WALTER AUGUSTUS PARKER</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">The four of them went together to the bank, which was within a
+minute's walk. There, the necessary forms being quickly gone
+through, a sum of two thousand pounds was credited to Miss
+Patterson, power being given to Rodney Elmore to draw on her
+account for such sums as were needed for the proper conduct of
+the business, it being tacitly understood that he would draw
+only such sums as were needed for the business. That matter
+being settled, they separated; Mr. Andrews and Mr. Parmiter
+going their own ways, Miss Patterson and Mr. Elmore departing
+together in a cab to lunch. The cab had not gone very far before
+the young gentleman made a discovery.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've left my letter-case on the table in the bank?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your letter-case? Did you? What a nuisance; I never noticed it.
+Are you sure it was on the table?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Quite; I remember distinctly; it was under a blotting-pad. What
+an idiot I am! I'm frightfully sorry, but I'm afraid I shall
+have to go back and get it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course, we will go back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The cab returned to the bank. The lady remained inside; the
+gentleman passed through the great swing doors--through first
+one pair, then a second--it was impossible to see from the
+street what was taking place beyond. Once in the bank, the young
+gentleman said nothing about his letter-case--it had apparently
+passed from his memory altogether; but he presented at the
+counter a cheque for a thousand pounds, with his own signature
+attached. He took it in tens and fives, and a hundred pounds in
+gold. If the paying clerk thought it was rather an odd way of
+taking so large a sum, he made no comment. He came back through
+the swing doors with a letter-case held in his hand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've got it,&quot; he explained.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He emphatically had, though she understood one thing and he
+meant another. When they had gone some little distance in the
+direction of lunch she observed:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wish I were not in mourning. I've half a mind to go back and
+change.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He observed her critically--he was holding one of her hands
+under cover of the apron.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Gladys, I can't admit that you do look your best in
+mourning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think that I don't know that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But you look charming, all the same.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, I don't; I look a perfect fright.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I doubt if you could look a fright even if you tried; I'm
+certain you don't look one now. In fact, the more I look at you
+the harder I find it to keep from kissing you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I dare say! You'd better not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's a truth of which I'm unpleasantly aware. Still, if you
+did look like anything distantly resembling a fright, I
+shouldn't have that feeling so strong upon me, should I?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're not to talk like that in a hansom!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm merely explaining. I suggest that if you do feel like
+changing, you should lunch first, and change afterwards.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're coming back with me to Russell Square?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rather!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I won't wear mourning--people may say and think what they
+choose--I declare I won't. Did you ever see anything like that
+letter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It was by way of being a curiosity.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But, Rodney, he said you were--he said you were all sorts of
+things! What did he mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your father was one of those not uncommon men who always use
+much stronger language than the occasion requires--it was a
+habit of his. For instance, when, in spite of his very positive
+commands, I showed an inclination to continue your acquaintance,
+he as good as told me I was a murderer--he said that it was his
+positive conviction that for the sake of a five-pound note I'd
+murder you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did he really?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He did. And I dare say that when you showed no desire to cut me
+dead, he said one or two nice things to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, he did--several. He made out that I was everything that was
+bad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There you are--that's the kind of man he was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But didn't he say something about a policeman--and giving you
+in charge?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am sure that he would have given me in charge to twenty
+policemen if he could, and that nothing would have pleased him
+better than to have had me sent to penal servitude for life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What I can't make out is--why did he dislike you so?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear, I'm afraid the explanation is simple--too simple. I
+don't want to hurt your feelings, but I've a notion--a very
+strong one--that he didn't like you. He regarded you as a
+nuisance; you know how he kept you in the background as long as
+he could; you interfered with the sort of life he liked to live;
+you were in his way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He certainly never at any period of his life or mine, showed
+himself over-anxious for my company.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When you did become installed in town, he had formed his own
+plans for your future. What precisely was the arrangement
+between them I don't pretend to know; but I dare say I shall
+find out before long--it won't need much to induce Wilkes to
+give himself away; but I am persuaded that it was his intention
+that you should become Mrs. Stephen Wilkes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But what makes you think so? It seems to me so monstrous. Fancy
+me as Mrs. Stephen Wilkes!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, I'd rather not. It's only a case of intuition, I
+admit, but I'm convinced I'm right, and one day I may be able to
+give you chapter and verse. He was not over-fond of me to begin
+with, but when you appeared on the scene, and he saw that his
+best laid plans bade fair to gang agley, he suddenly began to
+develop a feeling towards me which ended as it has done. It's
+not a pretty one, but there's my explanation. But, sweetheart,
+that page is ended; let's turn it over and never look back at
+it; and all the rest of the volume--let's try our best to make
+it happy reading.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They ate a fair lunch, considering, and enjoyed it, and
+afterwards returned together in a taximeter cab to Russell
+Square, feeling more tenderly disposed to each other, and at
+peace with all the world. When Miss Patterson had ate and drunk
+well she was apt to discover a turn for languorous sentiment
+which appealed to Mr. Elmore very forcibly indeed. Since,
+therefore, it was probably their intention to spend an amorous
+afternoon, the shock was all the greater when, on their arrival
+at No. 90, they were greeted in the hall by a tall upstanding,
+broad-shouldered, soldierly-looking man in whom Gladys recognised
+the officer of police who had brought her the news of her father's
+tragic fate.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Inspector Harlow,&quot; she exclaimed. &quot;What--what are you doing
+here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was perhaps only natural that, drawing away from the
+policeman towards her lover, she should slip her hands through
+his arm as if she looked to him for protection from some
+suddenly threatening danger. Rodney pressed his arm closer to
+his side, as if to assure her she would find shelter there;
+though, as she uttered the visitor's name, he glanced towards
+him with a look which, as it were, with difficulty became an odd
+little smile. The visitor's manner, when he spoke, suggested
+mystery.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Can I say half a dozen words with you, Miss Patterson, in
+private?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She led the way to the first room to which they came, which
+chanced to be the dining-room, she entering first, then Rodney,
+the inspector last. When he was in he shut the door and stood up
+against it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I said, Miss Patterson, in private.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The inspector had an eye on Rodney.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We are in private; you can say anything you wish to say before
+this gentleman. This is Mr. Elmore, to whom I am shortly to be
+married.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Elmore?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As the officer echoed the name the two men's glances met. In
+the inspector's eyes there was an expression of eager curiosity,
+as if he were taken by surprise; Rodney's quick perceptions told
+him that while his name, and probably more than his name, was
+known to the other, for some cause he was the last person he had
+expected to see; the man was studying him with an interest which
+he did not attempt to conceal. The young man, on his side, was
+regarding the inspector as if he found him amusing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, inspector, when you have quite finished staring at Mr.
+Elmore, perhaps you will tell me what it is you have to say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The girl's candid allusion to the peculiarity which it seemed
+she had noticed in his manner had the effect of bringing the
+officer back to a consciousness of what he was doing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Was I staring? I beg Mr. Elmore's pardon--and yours, Miss
+Patterson. I was only thinking that, under the circumstances, it
+is a fortunate accident that Mr. Elmore should be present.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You have omitted to state what are the circumstances to which
+you allude.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I will proceed to supply that omission at once, Miss Patterson.
+You will probably think that they are strange ones; and, indeed,
+they are; but you will, of course, understand that I am only
+here in pursuance of my duty. I have come in consequence of a
+letter which I received this morning. I will read it to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He took an envelope from a fat pocket-book.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It bears no address, and is not dated; but the envelope shows
+that it was posted last night at Beckenham.</p>
+<br>
+<blockquote>
+<p class="continue">&quot;'To Inspector Harlow.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;'Sir,--Mr. Graham Patterson did not commit suicide; he was
+murdered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;'If you can make it convenient to be at Mr. Graham Patterson's
+late residence, No. 90, Russell Square, to-morrow, Wednesday,
+afternoon at 3.30, I will be there also, and will point out to
+you the murderer.</p>
+
+<p style="text-indent:35%">&quot;'Your obedient servant,</p>
+
+<p style="text-indent:30%">&quot;'Philip Walter Augustus Parker.'&quot;</p>
+</blockquote>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Silence followed when the inspector ceased to read. The officer
+was engaged in folding the letter and returning it to its
+envelope; Gladys looked as if she were too startled to give
+ready utterance to her feelings in words. Rodney was possibly
+trying to associate someone of whom he had heard with the name
+of Parker--and failing. His memory did not often play him
+tricks; he was pretty sure that no one of that name was known to
+him. The inspector was the first to speak.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You will, of course, perceive, Miss Patterson, that the
+probabilities are that this letter is a hoax; the signature,
+Philip Walter Augustus Parker, in itself suggests a hoax. Then
+there is the absence of an address. And, of course, we have the
+verdict of the coroner's jury, and the evidence on which it was
+found. I am quite prepared to learn that I have come to Russell
+Square, and troubled you with my presence, for nothing. But at
+the same time, in my position, I did not feel justified in not
+coming, on the very off-chance of making the acquaintance of
+Philip Walter Augustus Parker. It is now on the stroke of
+half-past three; we will give him a few minutes' grace, after
+which--if, as I expect will be the case, there are still no
+signs of him--I'll take myself off, with apologies, Miss
+Patterson. But should he by any strange chance put in an
+appearance, I would ask you to have him at once shown in here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Hardly had the inspector done speaking than there was the sound
+of an electric bell and a rat-tat-tat at the front door. The
+trio in the dining-room could scarcely have seemed more startled
+had they been suddenly confronted by a ghost. The inspector's
+voice sank to a whisper.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If the name's Parker, would you mind asking the servant--in
+here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A gesture supplied the words he had omitted in his sentence. He
+held the door open so that Gladys could speak to the maid who
+was coming along the hall. She did so, also in lowered tones.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If that's a person of the name of Parker show him at once in
+here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She withdrew; the inspector shut the door; there was a pause; no
+one spoke; each of the three stood and listened. They could hear
+the front door opened and steps coming along the hall. Then the
+dining-room door was opened by a maid, who announced:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Parker.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There entered the little man who had followed the example set by
+Rodney of getting out of the train in Redhill Tunnel.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_23" href="#div1Ref_23">NECESSARY CREDENTIALS</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">The moment he appeared Rodney knew that he had been expecting
+him; that somewhere at the back of his mind there had been a
+feeling that it was he who was coming. His impulse was to take
+him by the throat and crush the life out of him before he had a
+chance of saying a word; which was the impulse of a badly
+frightened man. But he seldom lost his presence of mind for
+long; and, on that occasion, he had it again almost as soon as
+it had gone; indeed, within the same second he was smiling at
+himself for having allowed himself to be disposed towards such
+crass folly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">So far as Rodney was able to judge the little man was clad just
+as he had been on Sunday evening--in the same shabby tweed suit,
+the old unbrushed boots, with the same suggestion about him that
+he might easily have been improved by a more intimate
+acquaintance with soap and water. He had his hat in one hand,
+and with the other he rubbed his scrubby chin. No one could have
+seemed more at his ease. Without offering any sort of greeting
+he immediately proceeded to address the inspector, while the
+maid was still closing the door, in that thin, unmusical,
+penetrating voice which Rodney had so much disliked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So you are there, Harlow, are you? I wondered if you'd have
+sense enough to come.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He rounded off his sentence with the snigger which had so jarred
+on the young man's sensitive nerves, and which affected Gladys
+so unpleasantly that, with what seemed to be a start of
+repulsion, she moved closer to her lover's side. The stranger
+noted the movement, and commented on it--again with the
+uncomfortable snigger.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's right; get as close as you can; he'll keep you safe;
+anyone will be safe who gets close enough to him. You're Miss
+Patterson; I could tell you anywhere by your likeness to your
+father. You're not the kind of girl I care about, any more than
+he was the kind of man. Who's the youngster? Now, there is
+someone worth looking at; why, he's as handsome as paint, and of
+quite unusual force of character for so young a man. Miss
+Patterson, the girl who gets him for a lover will have a lover
+of a kind of which she has no notion. He's a most remarkable
+young man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With a view, perhaps, of checking the stranger's volubility,
+the inspector administered what was possibly meant for a rebuke.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you would confine yourself to the business which has brought
+you here, sir, it would be as well. Are you Mr. Parker?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am; Philip Walter Augustus Parker--a lot of name for a man of
+my size.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You sent me a letter last night from Beckenham?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stating that Mr. Graham Patterson did not commit suicide.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Exactly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But was murdered?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You went on to say that if I were here this afternoon you would
+point out to me the murderer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Point him out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I thought so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I knew you did. I saw on your intelligent visage that you knew
+what was coming. You have some experience of cranks who accuse
+themselves of crimes of which they are innocent; you take it for
+granted that I am one of them, which shows what a dunce you are.
+I am a lunatic. That's right, Harlow, smile again. I knew that
+would tickle you. A policeman's sense of humour is his own.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is necessary, Mr. Parker, that I should warn you that
+anything you say will be taken down and used against you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Quite right, Harlow; take it down; but as for using it against
+me, that's absurd. The law does not punish lunatics; whatever
+they may do it holds them guiltless. I'm an example of the
+inadequacy of the law to protect the public from what I may
+describe as the lunatic at large. It is not sufficiently
+recognised that there is an order of dementia which may at any
+time develop into homicidal mania, and that, therefore, a
+lunatic, unless he is kept in safe keeping, may kill, with
+impunity, whom he pleases--as I have done. I have killed Graham
+Patterson; yet no one may venture to kill me. My life is more
+sacred than that of a sane man in the eyes of the law.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The inspector looked at the girl significantly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I think, Miss Patterson, that I had better deal with Mr. Parker
+alone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And, Miss Patterson, I think not. What I am about to say will
+be found of interest not only by you, but also by--that
+extraordinary young man. Harlow, your duty is to take down what
+I am about to say in writing; don't exceed it. Shut the door.
+Miss Patterson will stay where she is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The inspector looked at the lady, as if for instructions. As she
+gave no sign, beyond drawing a little closer to her lover, he
+shut the door, which he had opened a few inches. Mr. Parker
+beamed at him with a grotesque little air of triumph.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There, Harlow--you see! Now attend to me. Suppose, before I go
+any further, we all sit down; my tale may take some minutes; I
+don't want anyone to get tired of standing. You won't? Very
+good--then stand. There are plenty of chairs, and very
+comfortable some of them seem; but, of course, I don't
+propose to force you to occupy them if you would rather not.
+Now--attention! To begin at the beginning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again he indulged in the uncomfortable sort of laughter which,
+more than anything else, revealed the disorder of the creature's
+mind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;On Sunday evening I bolted from my keeper, one Metcalf, in
+whose charge I have been for six or seven months, and of whom I
+was tired to extinction--an unclubable fellow who never talks
+unless he has something to say. I left Brighton station on the
+9.10 train. Until the train started I was the sole occupant of a
+first-class carriage, at which I was not displeased. I had some
+idea of committing suicide myself. Life, I assure you, has
+little to offer me. I am just sane enough to know that I never
+shall be saner. There's a wall--a wall which I shall never
+climb, and which shuts me out--from I don't know what. If I were
+left alone--I so seldom am; they won't leave me alone!--here
+would be an excellent opportunity to consider the best way out
+of it. You may fancy, then, what my feelings were when, just as
+the train was starting, another passenger entered--bundled in by
+an extremely officious porter. He would never have caught the
+train if it hadn't been for the porter--in which case he would
+have been still alive--so that one may say, logically, the
+porter killed him. The fellow certainly ought to be punished.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He waved his hat with a gesture which was possibly intended to
+represent the execution of the porter in question.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The man who had entered my compartment, Miss Patterson, was
+your father--in every respect a most objectionable person,
+combining in himself nearly everything that I most object
+to--bloated, overfed, nearly drunk, horrible to contemplate. He
+sat there perspiring, puffing, panting, gasping for breath; I
+half expected he would have a fit. But, instead of having a fit,
+before the train had gone very far he was asleep, fast asleep.
+Could any conduct have been more disgusting?--drunken sleep!
+With a man of my stamp at the other end of the carriage, could
+anything have been more insulting? And he snored--such snores! I
+declare to you he made more noise than the train did; if that
+extraordinary young man had been in the next compartment he'd
+have heard him. And his jaw dropped open--it was that gave me
+the idea. Who is it says that trifles light as air lead to I
+don't know what? It was that trifle which led to my killing your
+father, Miss Patterson.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again the cackling giggle, which made the girl try to draw still
+nearer to her lover, as if the thing were possible.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Some time before I had come into possession of quite a quantity
+of potassium cyanide; I won't say how--I had. The artfulness of
+lunatics is proverbial, and I'm as artful as any of them; on
+that point I refer you to Metcalf, as well as to others who have
+had me in their charge, both in asylums and out of them--they'll
+tell you! It was in the form of tabloids, looking just like
+sweeties, in a nice little silver box; enough to kill a street.
+I had meant to use it to kill myself, but at the sight of that
+dreadful man, with his bulging mouth, I thought--why not use it
+to kill him? Pop one into his mouth, and the trick was done! I
+moved inch by inch and foot by foot along the seat towards his
+end of the carriage; he still snored on, paying no attention of
+any sort to me; he was a horrid, vulgar man. At last I was right
+in front of him; I might have been ten miles away for all he
+knew. How he snored, and how his jaws did gape! I had the silver
+box in one hand and a tabloid between the finger and thumb of
+the other, and I leaned forward and popped it into his open
+mouth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Parker illustrated his words by his gestures, with the air
+of one who was telling an amusing tale.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, what a change came over him! You should have seen it! He
+snored the tabloid right down his throat, and he gave a great
+gasp and was dead. He had not even waked; I am sure that he
+never knew I was on the seat in front of him, or that I was in
+the carriage at all. There was his huge carcase bolt upright in
+front of me, and I knew that he would never snore any more. It
+made me feel quite odd; it was all so sudden and so funny. I
+daresay it would have made that extraordinary young man feel
+odd, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He looked up at Rodney with a leer which made his mean,
+wrinkled face all at once seem bestial. But he never faltered
+in his story, which he told with a sniggering relish which
+lent it a quality of horror which no display of dramatic,
+conscience-stricken intensity could possibly have done.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My idea had been to tell the porters all about it the first
+time the train stopped; it would have been funny to see the fuss
+they'd have made; I shouldn't have cared. But it so happened
+that the signal was against us, and the train stopped in the
+middle of Redhill tunnel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The inspector allowed no hint to escape him of what he knew or
+did not know. He kept his eyes fastened on the little man, as if
+his wish were not so much to follow his actual words, but to see
+something which might be behind them.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When it stopped I had another idea, quite as brilliant as the
+first. Why should I go through the nuisance of a trial for
+murder? With a little management, if this objectionable person
+were found in a carriage by himself, it might be taken for
+granted that he had committed suicide, which would be too funny.
+So I put the silver box open in his fingers, slipped out of the
+carriage into the tunnel--in the darkness no one saw me--waited
+for the train to go, then walked after it, out of the tunnel, up
+the banks, across the fields to Redhill Station; had a drink or
+two, which I was in want of; went on by the 10.40, until at
+Croydon I was joined by Metcalf, who had got there first. For
+the rest of the tale refer to him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Continuing, Mr. Parker seemed to address his remarks
+particularly to Rodney:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You never would have thought that it could be so easy to kill a
+man, and have it brought in as suicide, would you? When I read
+the report of the inquest in the papers, I was amazed to find
+how easy it really was. Then it occurred to me that as, of
+course, he had been murdered--I knew that--why shouldn't I
+communicate with the police, after all? No harm would come to
+me; lunatics are protected by the law. It would be different if
+he had been murdered by--you; you would quite certainly be hung.
+I shall go to Broadmoor. I have rather a fancy for Broadmoor. I
+am told that they are all of them lunatics there; I should like
+to see. At any rate, they have all of them done something; no
+lunatic I've met ever did anything worth doing. They must be
+interesting people. But certain credentials are necessary for
+Broadmoor, and now I think I've earned them. If the part I've
+played in this little affair of Graham Patterson doesn't qualify
+me for Broadmoor, then I should very much like to know what
+would. Eh, young man, eh?&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_24" href="#div1Ref_24">LOVERS PARTING</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">Inspector Harlow having gone, with Mr. Parker as close
+companion, the lovers being again alone together, it was pretty
+plain that they were conscious that, since entering the house,
+the situation had materially changed. Rodney, try how he might,
+could not erase from his mind, so quickly as he wished, the
+impression that he had been assisting at some hideous nightmare.
+He had supposed, at the sight of the little man, that his
+accuser had come into the room. His nerves were strained in the
+expectation that every moment the charge would be made. Even as
+the instants passed, and he began to see the drift of the tale
+which the man was telling, inventing it as he went on, he had a
+feeling that he was only playing with him as a cat does with a
+mouse, and that, just when it seemed least likely, he would
+right-about-face and, perhaps with that diabolical snigger of
+his, place the onus of the guilt on him. Now that the fellow had
+actually gone, a self-accused prisoner in the inspector's
+charge, the feeling that he was still taking part in some
+fantastic drama seemed stronger than ever.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gladys, on her side, when at last she broke the curious silence,
+which prevailed longer than either of them supposed after they
+had been left together, quickly showed that she was obsessed by
+a mood in which he did not know her, in which, as it were, she
+had slipped out of his reach.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, do you think that what that man said is true?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He seemed to give chapter and verse for most of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But if it's true--dad didn't take his own life!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If it's true.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But don't you see what a difference that makes?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course it makes a difference; but in what sense do you
+mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In every sense--every sense! Do you think--that while he's
+being buried--I should be here--if I had known that he was
+murdered? He was my father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In any case he was that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not in any case, not in any case! I may have got him all wrong!
+I may have misjudged! I may--I don't know what I mayn't have
+done. There's the letter!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What letter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To Mr. Wilkes. You said, when he wrote it, he was mad, and that
+taking his own life proved it. I thought so. But, if he didn't
+take his own life, what then?&quot;
+Rodney made an effort to regain his self-possession, and
+partially succeeded.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Gladys, the whole business is a bad one, whichever way
+you look at it. We are to be married on Monday.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Monday? Married--to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The knowledge of women on which he was apt to pride himself
+ought to have warned him that this was not the same girl as the
+one with whom he had come back from lunch in the cab. But at the
+moment he was not yet quite himself; his perception was at
+fault. He made a mistake.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Gladys, you are perfectly well aware that the
+arrangement, as it stands at present, is that we are to be
+married on Monday. I was merely about to suggest that, as it
+would seem that this whole unfortunate affair is likely to prove
+too much, we should be married to-morrow instead, and then we
+shall be able to get out of this unpleasant atmosphere at the
+earliest possible moment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stop! stop!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She shouted at rather than spoke to him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps I shall not be married to you at all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He stared at her in genuine amazement.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gladys! What are you talking about? What do you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know what I mean; I almost hope I never may know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear child; that wretched man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you ever seen him before?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Seen whom?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know quite well. That--wretched man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So far as I'm aware, never in my life. What makes you ask such
+a question?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you sure? Do you swear it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How can a man swear to a thing like that? But I do swear that,
+to the best of my knowledge and belief, I have never seen him
+before.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then how came it that he knew you so well?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Knew me so well? Gladys! What are you dreaming about? Why, he
+never even addressed me by name.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, I noticed that; but he addressed you all the same. Most of
+what he said was especially addressed to you, as if he knew that
+you would understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What are you driving at?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's more, he saw that I was afraid of you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Afraid? You? Why, you could hardly have snuggled closer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That was because I was afraid to let you know how afraid of you
+I was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gladys! Has that creature turned your brain?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I don't know. Oh, if I could only say a few words to dad--if
+I only could!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What would they be?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I would--ask him--how--he died.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You have two stories offered for your choice. Are you content
+with neither?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, if my father were standing here now, and his spirit may
+be, would you tell me, in his presence, that you don't know why
+he disliked you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you going into that all over again? To what end?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What does that man know of you? What does he know?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How can I tell what a half-witted man knows of me, or thinks he
+knows? Certainly he knows nothing to my discredit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney--don't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know! You do know! I can see in your eyes you know! Please
+go!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Sweetheart!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't--speak to me--like that--now. Go!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You surely are not in earnest. You cannot wish me to leave you
+before this extraordinary misunderstanding which has so
+inexplicably sprung up is cleared away. Tell me what is in your
+mind--frankly, all! I quite understand how this wretched man,
+Parker, may have turned your thoughts into unexpected currents
+and filled you with miserable doubts. I assure you he has upset
+me more than I care to tell you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I know that he upset you! I felt you were upset when I was so
+close to you. I can see it now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">If for the moment he was disconcerted--and the lady's manner was
+disconcerting--he slurred it over with creditable skill.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come, Gladys; let's try to get back to where we were--to
+perfect understanding. Tell me your doubts, no matter how
+insoluble they may seem to you. I promise you I'll solve them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm sure you will; I feel you could solve anything, but I am
+afraid of your solution.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Before he had an inkling of her intention she had passed rapidly
+across the floor and from the room.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gladys!&quot; he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But it was too late; she had gone. He stood staring at the door
+through which she had vanished, irresolute. Should he follow
+her, possibly to her bedroom, and entreat her for a hearing? For
+once in his life he had been taken wholly unawares; he had not
+suspected that this Gladys was in the Gladys he had known. Often
+a man lives to a ripe old age, ignorant how many women are
+contained in the one woman he knows best. Then, as if
+unwittingly, his fingers strayed to the pocket in which were the
+proceeds of the cheque he had cashed while Gladys, without in
+the cab, had supposed him to have gone into the bank for his
+letter-case. Apparently the touch decided him; often a little
+thing brought him to an instant decision. Without making any
+further effort to gain the lady's ear, he buttoned his coat
+across his chest, took his hat and stick from off the table, and
+quietly left the house.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_25" href="#div1Ref_25">STELLA'S BETROTHAL FEAST</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">That evening Rodney Elmore was at a dinner given at a famous
+restaurant in honour of his engagement to Stella Austin, quite a
+different sort of meal from that at which he had assisted at the
+Misses Claughton's house in Kensington. If in his manner there
+was an unusual touch of nervousness, it was not unbecoming; the
+bride that was to be was not entirely herself. He met her as,
+with her father and mother, she entered the hall. She said to
+him, as he fell in by her side:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I did hope, Rodney, that you would have come to fetch me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear, it's only by the skin of my teeth that I've got here
+myself! Do you think that I wouldn't have come if I could?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She said nothing in reply, but as she passed towards the ladies'
+cloak-room there was a look on her face which almost suggested
+tears. Her mother's manner, as she greeted him, was not too
+genial:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So you are here? Well, I suppose that's something!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Austin, as he deposited his hat and coat with the attendant,
+seemed very much in the same key.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We should have been here some minutes ago, only Stella would
+have it you were coming to fetch her; we should have been
+waiting for you still if she had had her way. How was it you
+didn't come? She's quite disappointed; rather a pity that the
+evening should have begun with a misunderstanding of that sort.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney drew the gentleman aside.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I take it, Mr. Austin, that you haven't heard the news?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To what news do you refer?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is now stated that my uncle did not commit suicide, but was
+murdered.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But I thought the coroner's jury had returned a verdict of
+suicide.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That is so; but this afternoon a man named Parker gave himself
+up to the police, on his own confession, as having murdered my
+uncle. You will understand that I--I have had rather a trying
+day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;On his confession? Is the man a lunatic?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's just it; he is, yet it seems only too likely that--he
+did what he says he did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But how came he to make his confession in your presence? Do you
+know the man?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not I; he's an entire stranger to me; but I'll tell you all
+about it later. I don't want you to say anything to the ladies
+or anyone; I only mention it to you because I want you to
+understand how it is that I am not in such--such good fettle as
+I might be for an occasion of this kind; and also because I want
+you, if needs be, to help me with Stella.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear boy, of course I will. It is only natural that, at a
+time like this, a girl should think that there's nothing of much
+consequence except her own affairs; but I'll stand by you, never
+fear. I rather wish that the whole thing had been postponed, but
+Stella wouldn't hear of it. There's Tom not at all himself; he
+wanted Mary Carmichael to come, and Stella wanted her to come,
+in fact, we all wanted her to come, but she hasn't. I've been
+told nothing, but I can see there's some trouble there.
+Altogether the evening doesn't look as if it were going to be
+quite such a merry one as I had hoped it would have been;
+however, we must make the best of it. Cheer up, lad; put your
+troubles behind you for this night only.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That was a prescription which at any rate the prescriber's
+son did not seem at all disposed to follow, as Rodney quickly
+learnt when Tom appeared a little tardily. Tom's naturally
+good-humoured face wore an expression of unwonted gloom, and
+there was that in his air and general bearing which accorded ill
+with a time of feasting and making merry.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know, old chap, I oughtn't to be here, I really didn't. I
+shall queer the whole show. Unless I drink too much, and put my
+spirits up that way, I shall give everyone the hump; and when I
+start on that lay I'm apt to get my spirits up a bit too much,
+so I don't know that that will have a good effect either.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney laughed as he put his hand on the speaker's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why, Tom, what's wrong?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know what's wrong, but something's wrong. I do know
+that. When the governor told me about this kick-up to-night, I
+wrote to Mary and told her all about it, and asked her to come
+up, and so on, and said I'd run down to Brighton this morning
+to bring her up, and told her the train I'd come by, and asked
+her to meet me at the station. She didn't meet me at the
+station--that was shock number one; and then when I got to the
+house, if you please, the servant didn't want to let me in--she
+wanted to make me believe that Mary was out. I wasn't taking
+that; I would go in, and I saw her old aunt--she's an old dear,
+she is. After a while, and she'd told no end of them, she owned
+up that Mary was in all the time she'd been telling them. She
+was up in her bedroom, and had given word that if I called she
+wouldn't see me. You might have bowled me over with an old
+cork.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The lady wasn't well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Her health was all right; the old girl owned as much. She said
+Mary was perfectly well, but beyond that she wouldn't say
+anything; and she made out that she couldn't; and she wouldn't
+send a message up, or a note, or anything. She said that she
+knew her niece well enough to be sure that that would be no use.
+But when she saw that I was set, she said that if I chose I
+might go up and try my luck. So, if you please, up I went, and
+rapped at her bedroom door.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Summoned her to surrender, quite in the good old style; and she
+did?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not much she didn't. I spoke to her through the bedroom door, I
+called out to her, I as nearly as possible howled; I daresay I
+rapped as many as twenty times--I know I made my knuckles sore
+But she took not the slightest notice, not a sound came from the
+other side; she might have been stone deaf or dead. In fact, I
+wanted to tell her that I felt sure that something dreadful had
+happened, and that if she wouldn't speak I should have to break
+down the door to see what was wrong. But the old girl wouldn't
+have it. She said that she had had enough of that folly, and
+when I talked about camping out on the door-mat she marched me
+off downstairs, feeling all mops and brooms, and all over the
+place. Then it came out that when I was at the front door she
+had told the old girl that she wouldn't see me, and nothing
+would make her see me, and had rushed up to her bedroom and
+locked herself in. So I came back from Brighton all alone, and
+the wonder is I didn't start to drink and keep on at it; only I
+had a sort of feeling that if I began by being squiffy when I
+got here things wouldn't be so very much brighter; besides,
+there's always time to start that sort of thing if you are set
+on it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear old chap, you've done something to upset the lady's
+apple-cart; you'll have a letter telling you all about it in the
+morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I hope so, but I doubt it; I might have known I was feeling too
+much bucked up. You know she never said exactly yes; she sort of
+let me take it for granted, and perhaps I took it a little too
+much for granted; I feel that perhaps that's how it is. But if
+she's off with me, I'm done--clean. She could make a man of me,
+even the kind of article the governor thinks a man; but no one
+else could. If she won't have me, I shall emigrate, that's what
+I shall do; I shall go to one of those cheery spots where you
+get knocked out by blackwater fever, or sleeping sickness, or
+something nice of that sort, three months after you've landed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Notice being given that dinner was ready, Rodney led Stella into
+the private room in which it was to be served cheerfully enough,
+bestowing on her admiring glances and whispering what he meant
+to be sweet things into her pretty ear as they went.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My hat! that's a duck of a frock you're arrayed in; you do look
+scrumptious.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm glad you think so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The maid's manner was a trifle prim; she plainly wished him to
+understand that she was still a little out with him. He smiled
+at her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know what you're laughing at.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Would you rather I cried?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm afraid poor Tom feels like crying. Isn't it strange Mary
+not coming, and sending no message, or anything--nothing to
+explain? Have you heard how she treated Tom?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They had reached the dinner-table, and were settling themselves
+in their places.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stella, be so good as to understand, once for all, that there's
+only one subject to-night, and that's you. All other subjects
+are tabooed. Are you quite comfortable? Don't put your chair too
+far off; so that, if you feel like it, you can put your baby
+foot out towards mine and with your wee slipper crush my
+favourite corn.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, I'm glad you are going to talk to me at last, though I
+don't suppose you have thought of me once all day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Shall I tell you what I've been looking for ever since I came?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I expect for somewhere to smoke.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I've been looking for--say, a curtained nook, where I can have
+you alone for about five minutes, and have a few of those kisses
+of which I have been dreaming this livelong day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you had come and fetched me you might have had one kiss--in
+the cab.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll have one kiss when I take you back--one!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, you are going to take me back?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am; and I'm going to eat you on the way; then you'll
+understand what you escaped by my not fetching you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're not to talk like that; people will hear you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Let 'em. Fancy if you'd arrived here with that lovely frock all
+crumpled--two in a cab! People would have wondered what you had
+been doing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, if you will talk like that I shall crush your favourite
+corn.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Crush it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Please pass me the salt.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Whether, while he passed her the salt, she did crush it, there
+was nothing to show.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The feast passed off better than, at one time, it had promised
+to do. There were about twenty people present. Mr. Austin had
+whipped up, at a moment's notice, various relations, and also
+certain persons who were intimately connected with the firm of
+which he was head; he desired to introduce to them not only his
+future son-in-law, but also the probable partner in his
+business. Most of these people were very willing to be
+entertained, simple souls, easily pleased, and the dinner was a
+good one. Even Tom, who found himself next to a girl with
+mischievous eyes and a saucy tongue, was inclined to shed some
+of his melancholy before the menu was half-way through.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I never did meet a girl who says such things as you do,&quot; he
+told her, with a frankness which was perhaps meant for
+laudation. &quot;You are quite too altogether.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You see,&quot; she said, with her eyes fixed demurely on her plate,
+&quot;it doesn't matter what one does say to some people, does it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What do you mean by that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course some people don't count, do they?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;By that I suppose you mean that I'm a----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She did not wait for him to finish.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, not at all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She looked at him with innocence in her glance, which was too
+perfect to be real.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How many times have you been ploughed?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who's been telling you tales about me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I was only thinking that it doesn't matter if one hasn't brains
+so long as one has looks, and you have got those, haven't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Tom's face, as the minx said this, in a voice which was just
+loud enough to reach his ears, would have made a good
+photographic study. Beyond a doubt he was in a fair way to lose
+some of his sadness, at least for the time.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When the cloth had been removed the giver of the feast, getting
+on to his feet, made the usual half jovial, half sentimental
+references to the occasion which had brought them together; and,
+in wishing the young couple well, made special allusion to the
+fact that he was not only welcoming a son, but also a colleague.
+The toast he ended by proposing could not have been better
+received. Then, while the young maiden sat blushing, the young
+man stood up, and, in a brief yet deft little speech, told how
+happy they all had made him, how the hopes which he had
+cherished for years had at last been realised, how dear those
+hopes had been to him, how unworthy he was of all the good gifts
+which had descended on him. But of this they might be sure, that
+if he had health and strength--and at present he was very well
+and pretty strong, thanking them very much--he would do his very
+best in the years to come to prove that he could at least
+appreciate those things which Providence had bestowed on him.
+The young man sat down on quite a pathetic note, and the girl by
+his side pressed his hand and looked as if this were indeed one
+of those moments of which she had dreamed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then there were other speeches and all sorts of kind things were
+said, which, at such times, one takes it for granted should be
+said. The young man was made much of, and the maiden, if
+possible, even more. And when the feast was really ended, and
+all the good wishes had been wished again and again, and there
+came the time of parting, even Mr. Austin was obliged to confess
+to himself that everything could scarcely have gone off better.
+His wife was radiant, some of the shadows had gone from Tom's
+face; apparently the young lady with the mischievous eyes had in
+some subtle way, the secret of which she only possessed, acted
+the part of the sun in dispelling the clouds; Stella could not
+by any possibility have looked happier or Rodney prouder. Tom,
+it is believed, saw the young lady with the mischievous eyes
+home in one cab, and it is certain that Rodney was with Stella
+in another. What took place during that journey in the cab
+between the restaurant and Kensington it is not perhaps easy to
+determine precisely, but beyond a doubt Rodney had that one kiss
+which had been spoken of, and probably others; for when the
+house in Kensington was reached, and the young lady ran up the
+steps to the front door, she was in a state of the most
+delightful agitation. And in the house there was the final
+parting, which occupied a considerable time, for they had to say
+to each other the things which they had already said more than
+once, and which Rodney at least could say so well and to which
+the girl so loved to listen.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I think that, after all, to-night has made up for to-day. Do
+you know, Rodney,&quot; and she looked up into his face with
+something shining in her pretty eyes, &quot;that to-day I have had
+the most curious fancies? I was actually frightened; I don't
+know at what, but I do know that somehow it was because of you.
+Wasn't it silly?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am not sure that it's ever silly for you to be frightened
+because of me; I'm in the most delicious terror all day, and
+sometimes all night, because of you; but you are a goose.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then he held her perhaps a little closer, and whispered:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It has been something of a night, hasn't it? For the first time
+in my life I feel as if I were a person of some importance. You
+couldn't have your betrothal feast again to-morrow, could you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She smiled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I doubt it; but we might have a silver betrothal feast as well
+as a silver wedding. Hasn't that sort of thing ever been done?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He laughed at the conceit, and when the parting really did come
+she was looking forward as through a dim mist, towards that
+silver time at which he had hinted; and when she went upstairs
+she prayed that after five-and-twenty years of married life she
+might be as happy as she was then. And all night she slept
+sweetly, dreaming the happiest dreams of all that took place
+during the passage of the years, through which she walked with
+the husband whom she loved so dearly, ever heart in heart and
+hand in hand. That night was to her a halcyon time.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_26" href="#div1Ref_26">GOOD NIGHT</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">When Rodney Elmore went home, as his cab drew up in front of his
+lodgings a man came quickly across the road and stood so that he
+was between him and the entrance to the house.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Rodney Elmore?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney looked him up and down. It was not a very good light just
+there, but it was clear enough for him to recognise the man who
+had greeted him. For the first time in his life a feeling that
+was something very like dizziness went all over him, so that he
+all but reeled; but that self-control which so seldom quitted
+him except for the briefest instant was back before it had
+actually gone. He did not reel, but stood quite still, and, with
+a smile upon his face, looked the man fairly and squarely in the
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That is my name--I am Rodney Elmore; but you, sir--pray, who
+are you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My name is Edward Giles. But I don't think that that can mean
+much to you, Mr. Elmore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Giles, but, as you say, your
+name does convey absolutely nothing to me. What is it that I can
+have the pleasure of doing for you at this latish hour?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The man was silent for a moment. Then a curious smile flitted
+across his face as he came a half-step nearer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Think, Mr. Elmore. I shouldn't be surprised if you had rather a
+good memory. Don't you remember me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not the least in the world, Mr. Giles.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It isn't so very long ago since you saw me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed! I presume it was on rather a special occasion, Mr.
+Giles, since you appear to be rather anxious to recall it to my
+recollection.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It was rather a special occasion for you, Mr. Elmore; and a
+still more special occasion--for Mr. Patterson.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My uncle?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Mr. Elmore, your uncle. Don't you remember last Sunday
+evening at Brighton station?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney hesitated.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why do you ask?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You do remember, Mr. Elmore, and so do I. I can see you still,
+coming sauntering down the platform smoking a cigarette and
+looking into the first-class carriages to see which of them
+would suit you best. You chose one, and then stood for a moment
+or two at the door, looking up and down the platform, to see, as
+it were, if there was anything which caught your eye. Then you
+got into the carriage, and took the seat at the farther end,
+facing the engine. You thought you were going to journey up all
+alone, but just as the train was starting a stout, elderly
+gentleman came bustling along. Yours was the only carriage door
+that was open, and I helped him in. I shut the door, and you
+went out of the station together. Don't you remember that? Look
+at me carefully. Don't you remember that I was the party who
+helped your uncle into your carriage? Just look at me and
+think.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again Rodney hesitated, and seemed to think. Then he said, in a
+tone the indifference of which was perhaps a trifle studied:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Really, Mr. Giles, I don't quite know what it is you expect me
+to say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The man gave a little laugh.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Anyhow, Mr. Elmore, you've said it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Without an attempt at a farewell greeting, he walked quickly
+back across the street, to where, as Rodney had been aware,
+another person had been waiting.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The pair walked briskly off together side by side, and Rodney
+went up the steps into the house. He knew that, as he had
+expected, the presence of that platform inspector was going to
+prove awkward for him; more awkward than he cared to think. But
+he did think, as he turned into his sitting-room; and still
+stood thinking as the door was gently opened and Mabel Joyce
+came in. Her agitation was almost unpleasantly evident. One
+could see that her hands were trembling, that her lips were
+twitching, and that, indeed, it was all she could do to keep her
+whole body from shaking. She came quickly towards the table, and
+leaned upon the edge; plainly it was a very real assistance in
+aiding her to stand. And her voice was as tremulous as her
+person.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did--did you see him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Mabel, did I see whom?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She seemed to clutch the table still more tightly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, don't! It's no good. Do you think I don't know? What's
+the good of pretending with me, when you know--I know? What
+cock-and-bull story is this about some man, some fool, some
+lunatic, who says--he did it? Do you think that I don't know,
+that Mr. Dale doesn't know, that they all don't know? Rodney,&quot;
+and her voice trembled so that it was with pain she spoke at
+all, &quot;there'll--there'll--be a warrant--out--in the morning. Oh,
+my God! my God!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And the girl threw herself forward on the table, crying and
+trembling as if on the verge of a convulsion.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What on earth, Mabel, is the use of spoiling your pretty face
+like this? I am a little worried to-night, and that's the truth.
+If there's anything you want to say to me, old girl, say it, and
+have done with it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He sighed. She raised herself from the table, and looked across
+at him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney, it won't be any use our marrying.&quot; There was a big sob.
+&quot;That won't save you--now. God knows what will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's really very good of you to worry about the sort of man
+that I have been to you; take my tip, my dear, don't worry. I'll
+win through.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But how? How? You don't understand! This--this fool, whoever he
+is, who pretends he did it, has only made them all the keener.
+They--they mean to have you now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;They? And who are <i>they?</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's Dale, and Giles, and Harlow, and--and don't ask me who
+besides. They're all wild because--because you tricked them;
+because they made such idiots of themselves at the inquest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rodney raised his arms above his head, and stretched himself,
+and yawned, as if he were a little weary.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;They were a trifle premature; coroner, and jury, an eminent
+specialist, and Harlow, and all--the whole jolly lot of them. I
+don't wonder they feel a trifle wild. But why with me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know, Rodney--you know! You know! Oh, don't--don't
+pretend!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;On my word of honour--if it's any use employing that pretty
+figure of speech with you--I am not pretending. I've still
+another trick in the bag; that's all. And that's what you don't
+give me credit for, my dear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What--what trick's that? You've too many tricks--you're all
+tricks! It's--Rodney, it's--it's too late for tricks!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But not for this pretty trick of mine. Mabel, it's such a
+pretty one! But now you listen to me for a moment. Pull yourself
+together. Stand up; let me see your face.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She did as he bade her, and stood, leaning on the table with
+both her hands, looking at him with eyes from which the tears
+were streaming.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mabel, you asked me to marry you. I said I would, and I will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But--what's the use of it now? You don't understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, yes, I do; I don't know if I can get you to believe me, but
+I do understand much better than you suppose; and, indeed, I
+rather fancy even better than you do. Anyhow, the supposition is
+that we're to be bride and bridegroom, dear, to-morrow; let's
+for goodness' sake be friends to-night. Let's try to say, at any
+rate, one or two pleasant things, as, not so very long ago, we
+used to do. What's going to come of it all you seem doubtful,
+and I can hardly pretend that I'm quite sure. I don't suppose,
+Mabel, that you ever read Dante, or, perhaps, even heard of him.
+But, in a tolerably well-known poem by Dante, there is this
+story. He goes down, with a party named Virgil, into one of the
+lowest depths of hell, and there he meets a poor devil who seems
+to be having an uncommonly bad time. They ask him what he has
+done that he should suffer so, and he answers something to this
+effect. He has it that his creed was a very simple one. He
+believed, and he acted on his belief, that one moment of perfect
+bliss was worth an eternity of hell, He had that perfect moment,
+the lucky bargee! And now for ever he's in hell. Yet, do you
+know, he isn't sorry; he thinks that moment was worth the price
+he paid. That's a moral story, and I don't pretend that I've got
+it quite right; but that's what it comes to; and, upon my word,
+I'm sometimes half disposed to think that that man's creed is
+mine. I guess it would be rather too much to ask you to make it
+yours; but--this you'll grant--we have had our moments of bliss,
+which was nearly perfect. Now, haven't we?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I--I don't know why you're talking to me like this. I--I know
+we have. Oh, Rodney, how--how I wish we hadn't!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, I don't--and I rather fancy I'm in a worse fix than you.
+But, as I live, when I think of the fun we've had, I don't
+care--that.&quot; And he snapped his fingers. &quot;They can do as they
+please, but they can't take from me my memories; and if I'm face
+to face with hell--I'll carry them there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He held out his hands to her with a little gesture of appeal.
+&quot;Lady, talking will do no good, so let's say pretty things.
+Sweetheart, I'll be shot if I won't call you sweetheart, look
+you never so sourly at me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, Rodney, I--I don't want to look sourly at you! Sourly! Oh,
+my dear, if you only knew!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do know, and that's just it. I want you to know. Sweetheart,
+good night!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He still held out his hands to her. As she looked at him, with
+straining eyes, she seemed to waver.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rodney!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good night. Come here and say it--or shall we meet half-way?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He moved towards her round the table, and she, as if she could
+not help it, moved towards him. And they said good night.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_27" href="#div1Ref_27">THE GENTLEMAN'S DEPARTURE AND THE LADY'S EXPLANATIONS</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">IN the morning early Mabel Joyce knocked at the door of Mr.
+Elmore's bedroom with a jug of shaving water in her hand;
+knocked softly, as if she did not wish to rouse the sleeper too
+abruptly from his rest. When no answer came she clung to the
+handle of the door, as a tremor seemed to pass all over her;
+then, presently, knocked again. Still no reply. She bent her
+head towards the panel, listening intently. Then, suddenly,
+decisively, rapped three times and waited. Still no reply. With
+a quick movement she turned the handle and passed into the room;
+and, when in, closed the door rapidly behind her, standing with
+her back against it, in an attitude of one who was afraid. She
+looked towards the bed. It was empty; the sleeper had awaked
+himself from slumber, had risen, and had gone. Putting the jug
+beside her on the floor, she passed quickly towards the bed;
+leaning over it, she stared at something which caught her eye
+upon the pillow. On the white slip was a dark red stain. She put
+out her hand, clutched it with her finger, withdrew her finger,
+and looked at it. Part of the redness had passed from the
+pillow to the tip of her finger. All at once she dropped
+on to her knees beside the empty bed, and, bowing her head
+upon the coverlet, stayed motionless. Then rose again to her
+feet, looking round her. Her glance caught something on the
+dressing-table--an envelope. Moving towards it, she snatched it
+up. It was addressed, simply, &quot;Mrs. Joyce.&quot; Although it seemed
+scarcely likely that such an address was intended for her, she
+ripped open the flap, and took out the sheet of paper it
+contained.</p>
+<br>
+<blockquote>
+<p class="normal">&quot;<span class="sc">Dear Mrs. Joyce</span>,--I'm off, to another world--the world beyond
+the grave. I'm more of a coward than I thought; and yet I don't
+know that it's quite that. I have tried to cut my throat in
+bed--your bed; but my hand bungled. I have made rather a
+mess--and then I stopped. It seemed rather a pity to spoil your
+bedclothes, and I did not like to feel the razor. I am going to
+do it another way--outside your house, in a place I know of,
+where I hope no one will ever find me. I want no coroner to sit
+upon my body, and I want no jury to make me the subject of their
+silly verdicts.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have heaps of reasons--I dare say you'll hear enough about
+them before long. I'd rather you heard of them than other people
+heard of them, when I am not here. It is because I am so anxious
+that the hearing should take place behind my back that I am
+going. I don't quite know what I owe you, but I believe I'm a
+little in arrears. You'll find ten pounds on the table; it
+should more than pay you, and even make up for the week's
+notice which I have not given. All my possessions that I leave
+behind--and there are quite a number of decent suits of
+clothes--are yours. Do as you like with them. If you sell them,
+and get the price you ought to get, you should not do badly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tell everybody what I have told you, and, if you like, show
+them this letter. You have not been a bad landlady; I don't
+suppose I shall be better suited where I am going; nor have I
+been a bad lodger; if you get a better you'll be in luck.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Say good-bye to Mabel. There is a portrait of a kind in the
+locket which you will find near this envelope. I think I should
+like her to have it, as one to whom I am indebted for many
+favours.--Your one-time lodger,</p>
+
+<p style="text-indent:50%">&quot;<span class="sc">Rodney Elmore</span>.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think I shall find it lonely where I am going? I
+wonder!&quot;</p>
+</blockquote>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The girl, having read this letter to the end, caught up an
+old-fashioned locket; doubtless the one referred to. Opening it,
+there looked out at her the young man's face--a miniature, not
+ill-done. She pressed it to her lips, not once, nor twice, but
+again and again and again. Then, shutting it, slipped it inside
+her blouse. She gave another rapid glance about the room, moved
+hither and thither as if to make sure that there was nothing
+left which might tell more than need be told; then, passing
+hastily from the room, went not downstairs to her mother but
+upstairs to the lodger overhead. At his door she also knocked.
+Response was instant.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who's there? Come in!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She went in. Mr. Dale was sitting up in bed She stayed close to
+the door.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He's gone!&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Dale, although he seemed but recently roused from sleep,
+seemed to grasp her meaning in a moment.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gone where?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He's left this.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She tossed the letter she had been reading so dexterously that
+it fell just before him on the bed. He caught it up and read.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's it mean?&quot; he asked. She seemed to consider for a moment.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know as well as I do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I suppose I do--when you come to think of it. He's a beauty--a
+shining star!&quot; He stared at the letter. &quot;What does he mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;At any rate, he means one thing--he's gone.&quot; Mr. Dale leaned
+back, looking at the girl as if he were endeavouring to find
+something on her face which should give him a hint what to say
+next. When he spoke again it was slowly, as if he measured his
+words; yet bitterly, as if behind them was a meaning which
+scarcely jumped to the eye.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Look here, Mabel, this isn't going to be an easy thing to do.
+I'm going to have all my work cut out if it's to be managed. You
+know what I mean by managed. And, as I'm alive, I don't want to
+do it for nothing--and I don't mean to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What do you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If the tale's not to be told--you know what tale--it must be on
+terms. I won't ask what this chap's been to you, because I
+believe I know. He's been--a blackguard; that's what he's been
+to you; and, on my word I believe you women like a man who's a
+blackguard. But I don't want to talk about that now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't, especially as I expect mother will be calling me
+before you've done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The shade of sarcasm in the girl's tone made the man regard her
+with knitted brows.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never you mind about your mother; I know all about her. For
+once in your life you'll just listen to me. Mr. Rodney Elmore
+has gone, vanished from the scene--he's dead; here's this letter
+to prove it to anyone who doubts it.&quot; The speaker grinned. &quot;I'm
+not dead; I'm alive--very much alive; and I want you to take a
+particular note of that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think I don't know that you're alive?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Dale's tone grew suddenly fierce.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I haven't got Mr. Rodney Elmore's pretty tone, nor his pretty
+manners, nor his pretty words; but I do care for you.&quot; He
+laughed. &quot;Care for you! Why, I'd eat the dirt you walk on; and
+you've made me do it more than once. Mabel, if I keep my mouth
+shut, and get others to keep theirs shut, will you stop treating
+me as if I were dirt, and treat me as if I were a man?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll treat you as you like; I'll do whatever you like; I'll be
+your slave, if--if you do that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She stood close up against the door, with both hands pressed
+against her breast, and her words seemed to come from her in
+gasps. As he saw that in very truth she suffered, his whole
+bearing underwent a sudden change. He all at once grew tender.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mabel, I'll make no bargain; I'll do it--for your sake;
+and--I'll trust to you for my reward.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With odd suddenness she turned right round, so that her back was
+towards him, and her face pressed against the panel of the door.
+Her pain seemed to hurt him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;For God's sake don't--don't do that! I'd rather--do what he's
+only pretended to do than give you pain. Cheer up--just try hard
+to cheer up, if it's only just enough to help you to know what
+ought to be done next.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The suggestion affected her in a fashion which perhaps took him
+a little aback. She turned again as suddenly as she had done
+before, this time towards him. Her eyes blazed; the words came
+swiftly from her lips.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think that I don't know what I'm going to do next? Do
+you think it hasn't been in my mind all night? Why, I've got it
+all cut, and planned, and dried. Leave that to me; all I want is
+for you to see&quot;--her voice fell--&quot;the tale's not told.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It sha'n't be if I can help it; and I think I can.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The words still came swiftly from her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Say nothing to mother, say nothing to anyone; leave me to do
+all the telling--you know nothing; that's all you've got to
+know. You understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His voice as he replied was grim.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, yes, I understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then, for the present, it's good-bye.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She opened the door. He checked her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shall see you to-night when I come in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You shall; if--if nothing's been told.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She went from the room to her own on the landing below, put on
+her hat, her coat, and her gloves, and went quickly down the
+stairs. Seldom was a pretty girl ready more quickly for the
+street. She already had the front door open when her mother
+called to her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mabel, what to goodness is the matter with you? Where are you
+going?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The girl seemed for a moment to be in doubt whether or not to
+let her mother's question go unheeded; then decided to vouchsafe
+her at least some scraps of information.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mother, I believe Mr. Elmore's gone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gone? Mr. Elmore? What's the girl talking about?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;His bedroom's empty, and there's ten pounds on the
+dressing-table, and I'm going straight off to the City to see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To the City!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The astonishment of the lady's voice was justified; she came
+quickly along the passage as if to learn what might be the
+significance of the mystery which she felt was in the air. But
+her daughter did not wait for her approach; she was through the
+door, had shut it with a bang, before her mother had realised
+what it was she meant to do.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Miss Joyce did not go to the City; she went instead to No. 90,
+Russell Square. There she inquired for Miss Patterson. She was
+told the lady was at breakfast.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tell her--tell her that I'm Miss Joyce, and that I must see
+her--at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She was in the hall, and looked so strange as she leaned against
+the wall, with her white face and frightened eyes, that the maid
+looked at her as if she could not make her out at all.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Miss Joyce, did you say the name was?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes--Joyce--Mabel Joyce; tell Miss Patterson that Miss Joyce
+must see her at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The maid went into a room upon the right--the
+dining-room--presently reappeared, with Miss Patterson behind
+her. Gladys came out into the hall.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Miss Joyce! You wish to see me? On what business?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Somewhere--somewhere where we'll be private.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gladys observed her with curious eyes; then she held open the
+dining-room door.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm at breakfast; but, if you don't mind, you'd better come in
+here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mabel went in, Gladys followed. The stranger, now that they were
+alone, presented such a woebegone picture that, in spite of
+herself, Gladys was moved.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You don't seem well--are you ill? Hadn't you better sit
+down?--here's a chair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She pushed the chair towards her visitor, but Mabel would none
+of it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, it doesn't matter, I'd--I'd rather stand. My mother was Mr.
+Elmore's--landlady.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Joyce? Oh, yes, of course, I thought I knew the name; I
+remember.&quot; Perhaps unconsciously to herself, Gladys's tone
+hardened; she drew herself a little straighter, she even moved a
+little away. In spite of her obvious trouble, Mabel noticed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You needn't be afraid of me--I shan't bite.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I was not afraid that you would bite. What is it you wish with
+me, Miss Joyce?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She stretched out towards the other a letter. Gladys eyed it
+askance, almost, one might have thought from her demeanour, that
+she feared that it might bite.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">
+&quot;If you take it--you'll see. You're right this time in being
+afraid; you've cause to be more afraid of that than of me. But
+it's written by somebody you know well, and--you'd better read
+it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Still doubtfully, as if she really were in awe of what the sheet
+of paper might portend, she took it gingerly from the other's
+fingers. Then she read it. And as she read, a curious change
+came over, not only her countenance, but her whole bearing. When
+she had reached the end her hands dropped to her side, she
+stared at the girl in front of her as she might have done at a
+visitant from another sphere.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What--does this letter mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For answer, Mabel took another piece of paper from that woman's
+universal pocket--her blouse. She held it out to Gladys, and,
+even more cautiously than before, Gladys took it with unwilling
+fingers. This time, as she read it, it was with an obvious lack
+of comprehension.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What on earth is this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Can't you see? Isn't it plain enough? It's a marriage
+licence--now can you see?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gladys seemed to make an effort to achieve steadiness, not with
+entire success. As if to hide her partial failure, she went down
+the room to the seat which she had been occupying at the other
+end of the table. Resting her hand on the top of the chair,
+raising the paper again, she re-read it. Her back was towards
+Mabel, her face could not have been more eloquent, one saw a
+spasm pass right across it. She was still; there was a
+perceptible interval; she turned towards her visitor. Her face
+seemed to have aged; one saw that as she grew older she would
+not grow better-looking.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I see that this purports to be a licence of marriage--I don't
+know much about these things, but I take it that the marriage
+was to be before a registrar--between Rodney Elmore, who, I
+presume, is my cousin----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He's your cousin right enough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And--Mabel Joyce. Are you the Mabel Joyce referred to?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am; we were to have been married to-day--at noon sharp; the
+registrar--he'll be waiting for us, but he'll have to wait. Mr.
+Rodney Elmore, that's your cousin and my husband that was to be,
+he's bolted.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bolted? I see. Is that what this letter means?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's just exactly what it means.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It doesn't mean that--he's--he's killed himself?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not much it doesn't; I know the gentleman. It simply means
+that, for reasons of his own--I'm one of them and I daresay
+you're another--he's cut and run.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gladys's tone could scarcely have been more frigid or her
+bearing more outwardly calm; unfortunately both the frigidity
+and the calmness were a little overdone.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I see. I'm much obliged to you for bringing me--this very
+interesting piece of news. I believe this is yours. I scarcely
+think I need detain you longer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She returned to Mabel both the licence and the letter. Enclosing
+them one in the other, the girl passed from the room out of the
+house. Gladys stood staring at the door through which she had
+left, exactly, if she could only have known it, as Rodney had
+stared when she had vanished the afternoon before. Then she
+clenched her fists and shook them in the air.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To think that I should ever have been such a fool! That I
+should ever have let him--soil me with his touch! Dad was right;
+what a fool he must have thought me! If I'd only listened, what
+might not--have been saved!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Shortly afterwards she entered the office at St. Paul's
+Churchyard. Andrews advanced to greet her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Elmore has not yet arrived.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I know he hasn't; I wish to speak to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She led the way towards her father's private room; as he
+followed Andrews seemed to recognise something in her carriage
+which recalled his master. There could be no doubt that this was
+his daughter. When they were in the room and the door was
+closed, Miss Patterson seated herself in her father's chair. She
+looked the managing man in the face, with something in her
+glance which again recalled her sire.
+&quot;Andrews, I suppose you can observe a confidence?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Andrews smiled; he rubbed his hands together; one felt that he
+could not make out the lady's mood, still less achieve a
+satisfactory guess at what was in the air.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I hope so, Miss Patterson, I'm sure. Your father reposed many
+and many a confidence in me, and I never betrayed one of
+them--I'm not likely now to betray yours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Right, Andrews, I believe you. I believe my father knew the
+kind of man who may be trusted; he trusted you, and I will.
+Shake hands.&quot; She offered him her hand. As if doubtful whether
+or not he was taking a liberty, he took it in his. They gravely
+shook hands.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It's very good of you, Miss Patterson, I'm sure, to say so; but
+what you do say is true--your father trusted me, and so can
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She eyed him for some seconds as if debating in her mind what to
+say to him and just how to say it. Then it came from her, as it
+were, all of a sudden.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Andrews, I told you that my cousin, Rodney Elmore, and I were
+engaged to be married. I was mistaken--we are not. Stop! I don't
+want you to ask any questions; that's the confidence I'm
+reposing in you, I want you to ask none, I simply tell you we're
+not. Another thing. You told me when I came in just now that Mr.
+Elmore had not come yet. Andrews, he never will come again--to
+this office.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed, miss! Is that so, miss?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The girl smiled--gravely.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There, again, Andrews--my confidence! You are to ask no
+questions. Neither you nor I will see Mr. Elmore again--ever.
+Still one other thing. You remember what my father said in his
+will about leaving the conduct of his business in your hands? I
+echo my father's words; I want you to manage it for me on my
+father's lines.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The old man was evidently confused. He stood staring at the girl
+and rubbing his hands, as if he found himself in a quandary from
+which he sought a way out.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'm sure, Miss Patterson, that I'm very gratified by the
+confidence you place in me, and I want to do my best to ask no
+questions, but--but there's one remark I ought to make.&quot; He bent
+over the table as if he wished the remark in question to reach
+her ear alone. &quot;I don't know, Miss Patterson, if you are aware
+that yesterday morning Mr. Elmore drew a thousand pounds from
+the bank.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yesterday morning? When did he do that? Not when we were
+there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It appears that he returned directly after we had left, and
+cashed a cheque for a thousand pounds across the counter, took
+it in tens and fives and gold--rather a funny way of taking a
+cheque like that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The girl said nothing; just possible she thought the more--it is
+still more possible that hers was disagreeable thinking. It came
+back to her; she understood; the letter-case which had been left
+behind; her sitting in the cab while he had gone into the bank
+to fetch it. Letter-case? So the letter-case was a cheque for a
+thousand pounds; and while she'd been sitting in the cab he had
+been putting her money into his pocket. What a pretty fellow
+this cousin was, this lover of--how many ages ago? Could she
+ever have cared, to say nothing of loved, a thing like this?
+This girl had a sense of humour which was her own; at the
+thought of it she smiled--indeed, suddenly she leaned back in
+her chair and laughed outright.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Cashed a cheque for a thousand pounds, did he? Well, Andrews,
+dad left him nothing in his will--I wonder why. How funny! Then
+there's still another thing to tell you, Andrews. Let them
+understand at the bank, as quickly as you can, that they're not
+to cash any more of Mr. Elmore's cheques which are drawn on my
+account. Now, Andrews, will you be so very good as to send
+someone to Mr. Wilkes, and give him my most respectful
+compliments, and say, if he can possibly spare a moment, I
+should like very much indeed to see him here at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When Miss Joyce got home she found, waiting in the sitting-room
+which had so recently been Rodney's, Mr. Austin. The gentleman
+regarded her as she came in with an air of grave disapprobation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are, I believe, the landlady's daughter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mabel nodded.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have just had a few words with your mother, who appears to be
+an extraordinary woman, and who has told me an extraordinary
+tale.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My mother's not in the habit of telling extraordinary tales to
+anyone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then, what does she mean by--by talking stuff and nonsense
+about Mr. Elmore's having gone, and--and I don't know what
+besides?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Miss Joyce drew a long breath, and seemed to nerve herself for
+an effort. She had had a good deal to bear that morning, and to
+retain even a vestige of self-command needed all her efforts.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Austin, Mr. Elmore has gone, and he's left a letter behind
+him in which he pretends that he has committed suicide; but he
+hasn't, I know better. But here's the letter; you might like to
+look at it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He read the letter with which we are already familiar; and it
+had a very similar effect on him to that which it had had on
+others, only in his case he read it over and over again, as if
+to make sure that its meaning had not escaped him, yet that its
+meaning had escaped him his words made plain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You--you may understand this letter, young woman, but I
+certainly do not. What--what does this most extraordinary, and,
+as it seems to me, inconsequent, letter mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I'll tell you just as shortly as I can exactly what it means.
+And, perhaps, when I have told you you won't ask any more
+questions than you can conveniently help, because--I've had just
+about as much to bear as I can manage. Rodney Elmore--I'm not
+going to call him Mr. Elmore, I've as much right to call him
+Rodney as anybody in this world; he's got himself into a mess,
+and I'm one of them. Why, he promised to marry me to-day at
+twelve o'clock.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He--promised! Young woman!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Here's the licence to prove it; but--I suppose he daren't face
+it; so he's gone, and he's done me, and I'm not the only one
+he's done. Has he done your daughter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your question, put in such a form, I entirely decline to
+answer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You needn't; I know. And, mind you, I don't believe he's gone
+alone either, wherever it is he has gone to. What's the name of
+that girl down at Brighton that he was so thick with, and your
+son's sweetheart?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Austin started as if something had stung him. He stared at
+the girl with growing apprehension.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You can't mean----?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I can. Wasn't her first name Mary? I have heard the
+other--it's a queer one--and I forget it. But you ask your son,
+if he cares for the girl, to make inquiries, and if she's
+missing, and he wants her new address, to find out Rodney
+Elmore's, and--he'll find hers.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="div1_28" href="#div1Ref_28">A CONSPIRACY OF SILENCE</a></h3>
+
+<p class="normal">There are few worse half-hours in life than that in which a man
+finds that the one person whom he has liked, and respected, and
+trusted, and believed in before all others, is a scamp, a liar,
+and a cur. As Mr. Austin sat cowering in the corner of his cab
+it was to him almost as if he had been these things, instead of
+Rodney Elmore. He ascended the steps of the Kensington house a
+little stiffly, a little bowed, a little shorn of his full
+height; he bore himself, indeed, as if he were ashamed; it was
+with a sense of shame that he spoke to his son, who was
+apparently just about to go out as he went in.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tom, I want to speak to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lad looked at his father with a look of surprise.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why, pater; what's wrong?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The father closed the door of the room into which he had
+preceded his son. There was something shifty in his bearing; he
+seemed unwilling to meet the youngster's glances.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tom, what was that you were saying about--about Mary
+Carmichael?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lad smiled, ruefully enough; there was an awkwardness about
+his manner. He turned away, as if on his side he had no wish to
+meet his father's eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All I can make out is that she has gone. It seems that while
+that old aunt of hers was out yesterday afternoon--she vanished.
+She just left a note behind her to say that she was going, and
+that they weren't to bother, because she wasn't coming back; but
+they'd hear from her some day--she couldn't say just when.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tom, she's gone with Rodney Elmore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The lad swung round as on a pivot.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pater! What do you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The father told the story as he knew it, the lad
+listening--first as one in a dream, and then as one in a rage.
+Then, with a gasp as of astonishment, he blurted out:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But what about Stella?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; what about Stella? Stella's here, and--why, where's
+Rodney? I thought, father, he'd come with you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Miss Austin had come running into the room eagerly, happily,
+laughingly, taking it for granted that her lover was within. As
+she looked from her father to her brother, and noted the oddity
+of their manner, her eyes grew wider open.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Father, where--where is Rodney?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then the father told the tale to her; it was the hardest task he
+had ever had to perform. The girl first scorned him, then
+laughed, then doubted, and then, in a fit of what was very like
+fury, announced her intention of going in search of Rodney, whom
+she declared she believed to be cruelly aspersed, and learning
+the truth from his own lips. It was with difficulty she was
+stayed. When she, at last, was brought to understand, she was
+already another Stella to the one her father had known. She was
+not to be comforted. And when her mother came, and heard the
+story, too, she put her arm about her daughter's waist and led
+her to her room, and there remained alone with her an hour or
+more. When she came out she also was another woman; and her
+daughter was in her room, alone.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And that, to all intents and purposes, so far as it is known, is
+the end of the story, though the real end is not yet. Such
+stories take a long time ending. Sometimes they are continued in
+the generation which comes after, and never end. Mr. Philip
+Walter Augustus Parker was tried for the murder of Graham
+Patterson, and, apparently to his complete satisfaction, was
+found guilty. The law plays such pranks oftener than is commonly
+supposed. The story he told was so well put together, all the
+joints fitted so well. As the judge instructed the jury they
+really had no option; on the evidence there was only one
+possible verdict; and that was returned. Mr. Parker earned his
+credentials; he was sent, as he desired, on a lengthy visit to
+Broadmoor. The whole story might have fallen to pieces and his
+visit to Broadmoor indefinitely postponed had the platform
+inspector at Brighton station--Edward Giles--given his evidence
+in another way. A few questions would have changed the whole
+face of affairs, but they were not asked. He told that it was he
+who had helped Graham Patterson into the carriage, and also that
+there already was someone in it when the dead man entered. At
+that point the questions which were put to him went awry. He was
+asked if the prisoner was that other person; he replied that he
+did not recognise him, but as, when the witness had entered the
+box, Mr. Parker had greeted him with that unpleasant little
+chuckle of his, and had proclaimed that he recognised him, even
+before he opened his mouth, as the porter, as he put it, who had
+been of assistance to Mr. Patterson, for the judge, as for the
+jury, that was sufficient. Giles himself was evidently taken
+aback, and while he declared that he did not recognise the
+prisoner, he admitted that if Parker had not been the man in the
+carriage, he could not understand how he recognised him. So Mr.
+Parker had his wish.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mr. Andrews is still the managing man, as well as a partner, of
+the firm of Graham Patterson, which continues to thrive on the
+same sound old lines. And Gladys Patterson is the wife of
+Stephen Wilkes--that strikes even her, when she thinks of it, as
+queer. How it came about, she has told her husband more than
+once, she does not understand; she wonders sometimes, so she
+tells him, if her father could ever have had it in his mind that
+that was the match he would have chosen. She is thinking of
+Rodney's words. Her husband laughs, and assures her that to the
+best of his knowledge and belief her father never dreamt of
+anything of the kind. Whereat she thinks all the more of
+Rodney's words, having a dim suspicion hidden in her somewhere
+that it was because of what he said that this strange thing had
+happened, and, in what she feels is in quite an uncanny way,
+that it was he who brought it all about.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mabel Joyce is Mrs. George Dale, fairly happy, as the average
+wife's standard of happiness goes, and Dale is happy too; but
+there is about him a suggestion of solicitous anxiety, as if he
+would be glad to be as certain of her satisfaction with the way
+that things have turned out, as of his own.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Stella is still unmarried, and likely to remain so. She is not
+quite the ordinary type of girl. When she gave her heart to
+Rodney Elmore, it was given for ever; although she would
+probably be the last person in the world to admit it, he has it
+still. As, she declares, she will never marry save where her
+heart is, her prospects of remaining Stella Austin are stronger
+than either her father or her mother care to own. Tom is
+married; was married within six months of his heart being
+finally broken--to the girl with the mischievous eyes. And he is
+happy as a man may be; and he is a man, even up to his father's
+standard of manhood. He is practically the head of his father's
+firm, and a sufficiently effective and energetic head he makes.
+He declares that it is his wife who has done it, and that she
+has been and still is and ever will be the only woman in the
+world to him. He forgets; men--and women--sometimes do.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Nothing definite has ever been heard of Rodney Elmore; but among
+those who knew him in his youth there is a profound conviction
+that he still lives. One day, a month or so after his marriage,
+there came a postcard to Tom Austin from one of the northern
+States of America, with just these words on the back:</p>
+<br>
+<blockquote>
+<p class="normal">&quot;Congratulations--good wishes--am delighted!</p>
+
+<p style="text-indent:40%">&quot;M.&quot;</p>
+</blockquote>
+<br>
+<p class="normal">He was the only person who ever saw the card. He tore it up and
+burnt it. About him for nearly a week afterwards there was, at
+odd moments, an unusually reflective air. His wife asked him
+what he was thinking about.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why,&quot; he told her, &quot;what should I think about but you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was thinking, wondering, how close to &quot;M.&quot; was Rodney
+Elmore--his boyhood's friend!--as one result of what was very
+like a conspiracy of silence.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr class="W20">
+<h5>Printed By Cassell &amp; Company, Limited, La Belle Sauvage, London,
+E.C.</h5>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Master of Deception, by Richard Marsh
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Master of Deception, by Richard Marsh
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Master of Deception
+
+Author: Richard Marsh
+
+Illustrator: Dudley Tennant
+
+Release Date: November 28, 2011 [EBook #38161]
+[Last updated: September 16, 2014]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MASTER OF DECEPTION ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+   1. Page scan source:
+      http://books.google.com/books?id=gD4PAAAAQAAJ
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                        A MASTER OF DECEPTION
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "'You see, uncle--this one; as it were, death reduced
+to its lowest possible denomination'" (_see page_ 99).]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                               A MASTER
+
+                             OF DECEPTION
+
+
+
+
+                                  By
+
+                            Richard Marsh
+
+          Author of "Twin Sisters," "The Lovely Mrs. Blake,"
+                  "The Interrupted Kiss," etc., etc.
+
+
+
+
+                        With a Frontispiece by
+                            DUDLEY TENNANT
+
+
+
+
+                       CASSELL AND COMPANY, LTD
+               London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne
+                                 1913
+
+
+
+
+
+                               CONTENTS
+
+
+     CHAPTER
+
+      1. The Inclining of a Twig.
+
+      2. His Uncle And His Cousin.
+
+      3. Rodney Elmore the First.
+
+      4. The Three Girls and the Three Telegrams.
+
+      5. Stella.
+
+      6. Gladys.
+
+      7. Mary.
+
+      8. By The 9.10: The First Part of the Journey.
+
+      9. The Second.
+
+     10. In the Carriage--Alone.
+
+     11. The Stranger.
+
+     12. Marking Time.
+
+     13. Spreading His Wings.
+
+     14. Business First, Pleasure Afterwards.
+
+     15. Mabel Joyce.
+
+     16. Thomas Austin, Senior.
+
+     17. The Acting Head of the Firm.
+
+     18. The Perfect Lover.
+
+     19. The Few Words at the End of the Evening.
+
+     20. The First Line of an Old Song.
+
+     21. The Dead Man's Letter.
+
+     22. Philip Walter Augustus Parker.
+
+     23. Necessary Credentials.
+
+     24. Lovers Parting.
+
+     25. Stella's Betrothal Feast.
+
+     26. Good Night.
+
+     27. The Gentleman's Departure and the Lady's Explanation.
+
+     28. A Conspiracy of Silence.
+
+
+
+
+                        A MASTER OF DECEPTION
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER I
+
+                       THE INCLINING OF A TWIG
+
+
+When Rodney Elmore was eleven years old, placards appeared on the
+walls announcing that a circus was coming to Uffham. Rodney asked his
+mother if he might go to it. Mrs. Elmore, for what appeared to her to
+be sufficient reasons, said "No." Three days before the circus was to
+come he went with his mother to Mrs. Bray's house, a little way out of
+Uffham, to tea. The two ladies having feminine mysteries to discuss,
+he was told to go into the garden to play. As he went he passed a
+little room, the door of which was open. Peeping in, as curious
+children will, something on a corner of the mantelpiece caught his
+eye. Going closer to see what it was, he discovered that there were
+two half-crowns, one on the top of the other. The desire to go to the
+circus, which had never left him, gathered sudden force. Here were the
+means of going. Whipping the two coins into the pocket of his
+knickerbockers, he ran from the room and into the garden.
+
+During the remainder of the afternoon the half-crowns were a burden to
+him. Not because he was weighed down by a sense of guilt; but because
+he feared that their absence would be discovered; that they would be
+taken from him; that he would be left poor indeed. He kept down at the
+far end of the garden, considering if it would not be wiser to conceal
+them in some spot from which he would be able to retrieve them at the
+proper time. But Mrs. Bray's was at, what to him was, a great distance
+from his own home; he might not be able to get there again before the
+eventful day. When the maid came to fetch him in the coins were still
+in his pocket; they were still there when he left the house with his
+mother.
+
+On the eventful day his mother had to go to London. Before she went
+she told Rodney that she had given the servant money to take him to
+the circus. This was rather a blow to the boy, since he found himself
+possessed of money which, for its intended purpose, was useless. He
+had hidden the half-crowns up the chimney in his bedroom. Aware that
+it might not be easy to explain how he came to be the owner of so much
+cash, there they remained for quite a time. So far as he knew, nothing
+was said by Mrs. Bray about the money which had gone; certainly no
+suspicion attached to him.
+
+Later he went to a public school. During the third term he went with
+the school bicycle club for a spin. The master in charge had a spill.
+As he fell some coins dropped out of his pocket. Rodney, who was the
+only one behind him, saw a yellow coin roll into a rut at the side of
+the road. Alighting, he pressed his foot on it, so that it was covered
+with earth. Then, calling to the others, who, unconscious of what had
+happened, were pedalling away in front, he gave first aid to the
+injured. The master had fallen heavily on his side. He had sprained
+something which made it difficult for him to move. A vehicle was
+fetched, which bore him back to school, recovery having first been
+made of the coins which had been dropped. It was only later he
+discovered that a sovereign was missing. The following day a
+search-party went out to look for it, of which Rodney Elmore was a
+member. They found nothing. As they were starting back Rodney
+perceived that his saddle had worked loose. He stayed behind to
+tighten it. When he spurted after the others the sovereign was in his
+pocket. Mr. Griffiths was reputed to be poor. It was Elmore who
+suggested that a subscription should be started to reimburse him for
+his loss. When Mr. Griffiths heard of the suggestion--while he
+laughingly declined to avail himself of the boy's generosity--he took
+Elmore's hand in a friendly grip. Then he asked the lad if he would
+oblige him by going on an errand to the village. While he was on the
+errand Rodney changed the sovereign, which he would have found it
+difficult to do in the school.
+
+At the end of the summer term in his last year Elmore was invited by a
+schoolboy friend named Austin to spend part of the holidays with him
+in a wherry on the Broads. Mrs. Elmore told him that she would pay his
+fare and give him, besides, a small specified sum which she said would
+be sufficient for necessary expenses. Her ideas on that latter point
+were not those of her son. Rodney's notions on such subjects were
+always liberal. Good at books and games, he was one of the most
+popular boys in the school. Among other things, he was captain of
+cricket. At the last match of the season he played even unusually
+well, carrying his bat through the innings with nearly two hundred
+runs to his credit, having given one of the finest displays of hard
+hitting and good placing the school had ever seen. He was the hero of
+the day; owing to his efforts his side had won. Flushed with victory,
+with the plaudits of his admirers still ringing in his ears, he
+strolled along a corridor, cricket-bag in hand. He passed a room, the
+door of which was open. A room with an open door was apt to have a
+fatal fascination for Rodney Elmore; if opportunity offered, he could
+seldom refrain from peeping in. He peeped in then. On a table was a
+canvas bag, tied with a string. He recognised it as the bag which
+contained the tuck-shop takings. Since the tuck-shop had had a busy
+day, the probability was that the bag held quite a considerable sum.
+He had been wondering where the money was coming from to enable him to
+cut a becoming figure during his visit to Austin. Stepping quickly
+into the room, he emptied the canvas bag into his cricket-bag; then,
+going out again as quickly as he had entered, he continued his
+progress.
+
+He was on his way to one of the masters, named Rumsey, who edited the
+school magazine, his object being to hand him a corrected proof of
+certain matter which was to appear in the forthcoming issue. He took
+the proof out of his cricket-bag, which he opened in the master's
+presence. Having stayed to have a chat, he returned with Mr. Rumsey
+along the corridor. As they went they saw one of the school pages come
+hurriedly out of the room in which, as Rodney was aware, there was an
+empty canvas bag. Mr. Rumsey commented on the speed at which the youth
+was travelling.
+
+"Isn't that young Wheeler? He seems in a hurry. I wish he would always
+move as fast."
+
+"Perhaps he's tearing off on an errand for Mr. Taylor."
+
+As he said this Rodney carelessly swung his cricket-bag, being well
+aware that the coins within were so mixed up with his sweater, pads,
+gloves, and other accessories that they were not likely to make their
+presence audible. At the end of the corridor they encountered Mr.
+Taylor himself. Mark Taylor was fourth form master and manager of the
+tuck-shop. Nodding, he went quickly on. Mr. Rumsey was going one way,
+Rodney the other. They lingered at the corner to exchange a few
+parting words. Suddenly Mr. Taylor's voice came towards them down the
+corridor.
+
+"Rumsey! Elmore! Who's been in my room?"
+
+"Been in your room?" echoed Mr. Rumsey. "How should I know?" Then
+added, as if it were the result of a second thought: "We just saw
+Wheeler come out."
+
+"Wheeler?" In his turn, Mr. Taylor played the part of echo. "He just
+came rushing past me; I wondered what his haste meant. You saw him
+come out of my room? Then---- But he can't have done a thing like
+that!"
+
+"Like what? Anything wrong?"
+
+"There seems to be something very much wrong. Do you mind coming
+here?"
+
+Retracing their steps, Mr. Rumsey and Elmore joined the agitated Mr.
+Taylor in his room. He made clear to them the cause of his agitation.
+
+"You see this bag? It contained to-day's tuck-shop takings--more than
+ten pounds. I left it, with the money tied up in it, on the table here
+while I went to Perrin to fetch a memorandum I'd forgotten. Now that
+I've returned, I find the bag lying on my table empty and the money
+apparently gone. That's what's wrong, and the question is, who has
+been in my room since I left it?"
+
+"As I told you, Elmore and I just saw Wheeler making his exit rather
+as if he were pressed for time."
+
+"And I myself just met him scurrying along, and wondered what the
+haste was about; he's not, as a general rule, the fastest of the
+pages. The boy has a bad record; there was that story about Burge
+minor and his journey money, and there have been other tales. If he
+was in my room----"
+
+"Perhaps he was sent on an errand to you."
+
+"I doubt it, from the way he was running when I met him. And, so far
+from stopping when he saw me, if anything, he went faster than ever.
+It looks very much as if----"
+
+He stopped, leaving the sentence ominously unfinished.
+
+"Master Wheeler may be a young rip, but surely he wouldn't do a thing
+like that."
+
+This was Rodney, who notoriously never spoke ill of anyone. Mr. Taylor
+touched on his well-known propensity.
+
+"That's all very well, Elmore; but you'd try to find an excuse for a
+man who snatched the coat off your back. This is a very serious
+matter; ten pounds are ten pounds. The best thing is for you to bring
+Wheeler here, and we'll have it out with him at once."
+
+Rodney started off to fetch the page. It was some little time before
+he returned. When he did he was without his cricket-bag, and gripped
+the obviously unwilling page tightly by the shoulder. That the lad's
+mind was very far from being at ease Mr. Taylor's questions quickly
+made plain.
+
+"Wheeler, Mr. Rumsey and Mr. Elmore just saw you coming out of my
+room. What were you doing here?"
+
+Wheeler, looking everywhere but at his questioner, hesitated; then
+stammered out a lame reply.
+
+"I--I was looking for you, sir."
+
+"For me? What did you want with me? Why did you not say you wanted me
+when you met me just now?"
+
+Wheeler could not explain; he was tongue-tied. Mr. Taylor went on:
+
+"When I went I left this bag on the table full of money. As you were
+the only person who entered the room during my absence, I want you to
+tell me how the bag came to be empty when I returned?"
+
+"The bag was empty when I came in here," blurted out Wheeler. "I
+particularly noticed."
+
+To that tale he stuck--that the bag was empty when he entered the
+room. His was a lame story. It seemed clear that he had gone into
+the room with intentions which were not all that they might have
+been--possibly meaning to pilfer from the bag, which he knew was
+there. The discovery that the bag was empty had come upon him with a
+shock; he had fled. As was not altogether unnatural, his story was not
+believed. The two masters accused him point-blank of having emptied
+the bag himself. A formal charge of theft would have been made against
+him had it not been for his tender years, also partly because of the
+resultant scandal, perhaps still more because not a farthing of the
+money was ever traced to his possession, or, indeed, to anyone else's.
+What had become of it was never made clear. Wheeler, however, was
+dismissed from his employment with a stain upon his character which he
+would find it hard to erase.
+
+Rodney Elmore had an excellent time upon the Broads, towards which the
+tuck-shop takings, in a measure, contributed. The Austins, who were
+well-to-do people, had a first-rate wherry; on it was a lively party.
+There were two girls--Stella Austin, Tom Austin's sister, and a friend
+of hers, Mary Carmichael. Elmore, who was nearly nineteen, had already
+had more than one passage with persons of the opposite sex. He had a
+curious facility in gaining the good graces of feminine creatures of
+all kinds and all ages. When he went he left Stella Austin under the
+impression that he cared for her very much indeed; while, although
+conscious that Tom Austin, believing himself to be in love with Mary
+Carmichael, regarded her as his own property, he was aware that the
+young lady liked him--Rodney Elmore--in a sense of which his friend
+had not the vaguest notion. Altogether his visit to the Austins was an
+entire success; he had won for himself a niche in everyone's esteem
+before they parted.
+
+When he was twenty Rodney Elmore entered an uncle's office in St.
+Paul's Churchyard. Soon after he was twenty-one his mother died. On
+her deathbed she showed an anxiety for his future which, under other
+circumstances, he would have found almost amusing.
+
+"Rodney," she implored him, "my son, my dear, dear boy, promise me
+that you will keep honest; that, under no pressure of circumstances,
+you will stray one hair's breadth from the path of honesty."
+
+This, in substance, though in varying forms, was the petition which
+she made to him again and again, in tones which, as the days, and even
+the hours, went by, grew fainter and fainter. He did his best to give
+her the assurance she required, smilingly at first, more seriously
+when he perceived how much she was in earnest.
+
+"Mother, darling," he told her, "I promise that I'll keep as straight
+as a man can keep. I'll never do anything for which you could be
+ashamed of me. Have you ever been ashamed of me?"
+
+"No, dear, never. You've always been the best, cleverest, truest, most
+affectionate son a woman could have. Never once have you given me a
+moment's anxiety. God keep you as you have always been--above all, God
+keep you honest."
+
+"Mother," he said in earnest tones, which had nearly sunk to a
+whisper, "God helping me, and He will help me, I swear to you that I
+will never do a dishonest thing, never! Nor a thing that is in the
+region of dishonesty. Don't you believe me, darling?"
+
+"Of course, dear, I believe you--I do! I do!"
+
+It was with some such words on her lips that she died; yet, even as
+she uttered them, he had a feeling that there was a look in her eyes
+which suggested both fear and doubt. In the midst of his heart-broken
+grief the fact that there should have been such a look struck him as
+good.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER II
+
+                       HIS UNCLE AND HIS COUSIN
+
+
+Mrs. Elmore's income died with her. She had sunk her money in an
+annuity because, as she had explained to Rodney, that enabled her to
+give him a much better education than she could have done had they
+been constrained to live on the interest produced by her slender
+capital. But her son was not left penniless. She had bought him an
+annuity, to commence when he was twenty-one, of thirty shillings a
+week, to be paid weekly, and had tied it up in such a way that he
+could neither forestall it nor use it as a security on which to borrow
+money. As clerk to his uncle he received one hundred pounds a year.
+Feeling that he could no longer reside in Uffham, he sold the house,
+which was his mother's freehold, and its contents, the sale producing
+quite a comfortable sum. So, on the whole, he was not so badly off as
+some young men.
+
+On the contra side he had expensive tastes, practically in every
+direction. Among other things, he had a partiality for feminine
+society, mostly of the reputable sort; but a young man is apt to find
+the society of even a nice girl an expensive luxury. For instance,
+Mary Carmichael had a voice. Her fond parents, who lived in the
+country, suffered her to live in town while she was taking singing
+lessons. Tom Austin, although still an undergraduate at Oxford, made
+no secret of his feelings for the maiden, a fact which did not prevent
+Mary going out now and then with Rodney Elmore to dinner at a
+restaurant, and, afterwards, to a theatre, as, nowadays, young men and
+maidens do. On these occasions Rodney paid, and where the evening's
+entertainment of a modern maiden is concerned a five-pound note does
+not go far. Then, although Miss Carmichael might not have been aware
+of it, there were others. Among them Stella Austin, who had reasons of
+her own for believing that Mr. Elmore would give the world to make her
+his wife, being only kept from avowing his feelings by the fact that
+he was, to all intents and purposes, a pauper. Since she was the
+possessor of three or four hundred a year of her own, with the
+prospect of much more, she tried more than once to hint that, since
+she would not mind setting up housekeeping on quite a small income,
+there was no reason why they should wait an indefinite period, till
+Rodney was a millionaire. But Rodney's delicacy was superfine. While
+he commended her attitude with an ardour which made the blood grow hot
+in her veins, he explained that he was one of those men who would not
+ask a girl to marry him unless he was in a position to keep her in the
+style a husband should, adding that that time was not so distant as
+some people might think. In another twelve months he hoped--well, he
+hoped! As at such moments she was apt to be very close to him, Stella
+hoped too.
+
+The young gentleman was living at the rate of at least five or six
+hundred a year on an income of a hundred and eighty. He did not bother
+himself by keeping books, but he quite realised that his expenditure
+bore no relation to his actual income. Of course, he owed money; but
+he did not like owing money. It was against his principles. He never
+borrowed if he could help it, and he objected to being at the mercy of
+a tradesman. He preferred to get the money somehow, and pay; and,
+somehow, he got it. Very curious methods that "somehow" sometimes
+covered. He was fond of cards; liked to play for all sorts of stakes;
+and, on the whole, he won. His skill in one so young was singular;
+sometimes, when opportunity offered, it was shown in directions at
+which one prefers only to hint. His favourite games were bridge,
+piquet, poker, and baccarat, four games at which a skilful player can
+do strange things, especially when playing with unsuspicious young men
+who have looked upon the wine when it was red.
+
+Rodney's dexterity with his fingers was almost uncanny. He could do
+wonderful card tricks, though he never did them in public, but only
+for his own private amusement. When reading "Oliver Twist," he had
+been tickled by the scene in which Fagin teaches his youthful pupils
+how to pick a pocket. He had made experiments of his own in the same
+direction upon parties who were not in the least aware of the
+experiments he was making. His success amused him hugely, while the
+subjects of his experiments never had the dimmest notion as to how or
+where their valuables had gone.
+
+In very many ways Rodney Elmore obtained sufficient money to enable
+him to keep his credit at a surprisingly high standard. Everyone spoke
+well of him; he was a general favourite. Nor was it strange; he looked
+a likeable fellow--indeed, ninety-nine people out of a hundred liked
+him at first sight. Over six feet in height, slightly built, he did
+not look so strong as he was in reality. Straight as an arrow, head
+held well up, there was something almost feminine in the lightness
+with which he seemed to move. Many girls and women had told him to his
+face that he was the best dancer they had ever had for partner.
+Indeed, in a sense, he flattered his partners, having a knack of
+making a girl who danced badly think she danced well. He had light
+brown hair, which seemed as if it had been dusted with golden sand;
+grey eyes, which, with the pleasantest expression, looked you right in
+the face; an Englishman's clear skin; mobile lips, which parted on the
+slightest pretext in a sunny smile; just enough moustache to shade his
+upper lip. Altogether as agreeable looking a young gentleman as one
+might hope to meet. And his manners bore out the promise of his
+appearance. Always cool, easy, self-possessed, ready to perform little
+services for women, the aged, the infirm, in a fashion which, so far
+as our present-day young men are concerned, is a little out of date.
+With the pleasantest voice and trick of speech, no chatterer, it
+seemed impossible for him to say a disagreeable or an unkind thing
+either to or of anyone. It was a standing joke among his intimates
+that, when scandal-mongering was in the air, Elmore would spoil the
+fun by pointing out the good qualities of those attacked and refusing
+to see anything else but them. He had ever an excuse to offer for the
+most notorious sinner. It was not wonderful that everybody liked him.
+On his part, he seemed incapable of disliking anyone. He might rob his
+friend of all that he had, but he would not regard him as less his
+friend on that account.
+
+To this rule, so far as he knew, there was only one exception, and as
+time went on this exception surprised him more and more. There was
+only one person who he felt sure disliked him, and why he disliked him
+was beyond his comprehension. This person was the uncle in whose
+office he was a clerk--Graham Patterson. Mr. Patterson was Mrs.
+Elmore's brother. Rodney quite understood that his uncle had not
+offered him the position he held, but had only received him at his
+mother's particular request. There had been that in his uncle's manner
+which had struck him as peculiar from the first, as if he were
+prejudiced against him before they met, regarding him with suspicion
+and dislike. As, for some reason which he would have liked to have had
+explained, he had never seen his uncle till he entered his office, his
+relative's attitude struck him as distinctly odd; but, in his
+light-hearted way, he told himself that he would gain his uncle's
+esteem before they had been acquainted long. However, they had been
+acquainted now nearly three years, and he was conscious that his uncle
+esteemed him as little as ever. He wondered why.
+
+Mr. Patterson's appearance was against him; he was big and bloated. A
+City merchant of the old school, he was addicted to the pleasures of
+the table and fond--for one of his habit of body unduly fond--of what
+he called a "glass of wine." He liked half a pint of port with his
+luncheon and a pint for his dinner, he being just the kind of person
+who never ought to have touched port at all. Nor, when his health
+permitted, was his daily allowance of stimulants by any means confined
+to his pint and a half of port. The result was that he suffered both
+in mind and body. The "governor's temper" was a byword in the office.
+When, to use his own phrase, he was "a little below par" he would fly
+into such fits of passion about the merest trivialities that those
+about him used to regard his "paddies" as part of the daily routine;
+so soon as he was out of his "paddy" he had forgotten all about it.
+
+Although his methods were a little old-fashioned, he was still an
+excellent man of business. The staple of his trade was silk, but
+latterly he had added other lines. In these days of shoddy the quality
+of his goods was above suspicion; he did a remunerative trade in
+everything he touched. In the trade no man's commercial integrity
+stood higher than Graham Patterson's; whoever dealt with him could be
+sure that everything would be all right. His books showed every year a
+comfortable turnover at fair rates of profit. There were those in his
+employ who were of opinion that if only a younger and more pushing man
+could have a voice in the management of affairs, the business might
+rapidly become one of the finest in the city of London.
+
+Rodney Elmore had not been long in his uncle's office before this
+opinion became emphatically his. He was conscious of commercial
+abilities of the most unusual kind, and was convinced that if he could
+only get a chance he would double both the turnover and the profits in
+so short a space of time that his uncle could not fail to be
+gratified. Since he was the nephew of his uncle, and, indeed, his only
+male relative, he did not see why he should not have a chance. When he
+first went to St. Paul's Churchyard he had hopes, but these hopes had
+grown dimmer. His perceptions on such matters were keen; few persons,
+no matter what their age, could see farther into a brick wall than he.
+He felt certain that his uncle only kept him at all because Mrs.
+Elmore had wrung from him a promise that he should have a place, of
+sorts, in his office. So far from having an eye to his nephew's
+advancement, it seemed to Rodney that his uncle even went out of his
+way to let him have as little as possible to do with the conduct of
+his business. It was true that he had a room for his separate use,
+and, though it was but a tiny one, on this foundation, at the
+beginning, he built much. But before long he understood that what he
+had reared were castles in the air. It seemed to Rodney before long
+that it must have been Mr. Patterson's intention to keep him apart
+from the others in order that he might know nothing of what was going
+on. His own work was of the simplest clerical kind; occasionally he
+was sent on an errand of no importance. He seemed free to come when he
+liked, and leave when he chose; nobody appeared to care what he did,
+or left undone. For these onerous labours he had been paid the first
+year eighty pounds, the second a hundred, then a hundred and twenty;
+now, after three years, he wondered what was going to happen next.
+Obviously an office boy could do what he had to do for five shillings
+a week.
+
+Under the circumstances, the fact that he had acquired such an insight
+into the ins and outs, the pros and cons, of his uncle's business
+transactions spoke volumes for his keenness and acumen. He often
+smiled to himself as he pictured the expression which would come on
+his uncle's rubicund countenance if he guessed what an intimate
+knowledge his office boy had of his affairs. Rodney was perfectly
+aware that the expression would not be one of pleasure; that his
+knowledge would not be regarded as the fruit of promising zeal, but as
+something which could only be adequately described by a flood of
+uncomplimentary adjectives. What was at the back of Graham Patterson's
+mind the young man, with all his shrewdness, had still no notion. He
+was one of the few men he had met who puzzled him. But of this much he
+was clear--that, while for his sister's sake Mr. Patterson was willing
+that his nephew should have a seat in his office, the less active
+interest the young man took in the duties he was, presumably, paid to
+perform the better pleased his employer would be. Elmore was of a
+hopeful disposition, willing to persevere if he saw even a remote
+chance of ultimate gain. But so convinced was he that his uncle, if he
+could help it, would never, on his own initiative, advance him to a
+position of trust that, before this, he would have cast about for a
+chance of improving his prospects--had it not been for a young lady.
+
+He had already been more than two years in his uncle's employment, and
+was meditating leaving it at a very early date, when one afternoon,
+Mr. Patterson being out, he heard an unknown feminine voice speaking
+in the outer office, and unexpectedly the door of his own den was
+opened, and someone entered--a girl. Slipping the papers he was
+assiduously studying into his desk with lightning-like rapidity, he
+rose to greet her.
+
+"Are you Rodney Elmore?" He smilingly owned that he was. "Then you're
+my cousin. How are you?"
+
+His cousin? He did not know that he had such a relative in the world.
+She held out her hand. Almost before he knew it he had it in his;
+whether willingly or not, she left it in his quite an appreciable
+space of time. He admitted his ignorance.
+
+"I didn't know I had such a delightful thing as a cousin."
+
+"Isn't that queer? I didn't till the other day. I'm Gladys Patterson;
+your uncle's my father."
+
+For once in his life Rodney was taken by surprise. His researches into
+his uncle's affairs had been confined to their commercial side. He
+knew practically nothing of his private life. He had never heard
+it spoken of, and had asked no questions. He had a vague idea
+that his uncle was a bachelor. He knew that he lived in rooms,
+and--accidentally--had learnt that he had relations with certain
+ladies of a kind which one does not associate with a family man. That
+he had ever had a wife and, still less, a daughter he had never
+guessed. Even in the midst of his surprise he reproached himself for
+his stupidity that such an important point should have escaped him! As
+he regarded the girl in front of him he perceived that she was her
+father's child.
+
+She was about his height, he being short and fat. One day, if
+appearances were not misleading, she also would be plump. Already she
+had something of her father's rubicund countenance; her cheeks were
+red, even a trifle blotchy. She had dark hair and eyes, both her mouth
+and nose were a little too big. Yet he did not find her disagreeable
+to look at. On the contrary, there was something about her which
+appealed to him, just as he was conscious that there was something
+about him which appealed to her. Where a girl was concerned it was
+strange how some subtle instinct told him these things. He was moved
+to audacity.
+
+"If you're my cousin, oughtn't I to kiss you?"
+
+Her eyes lit up. Her lips parted, showing her beautiful teeth; if they
+were a little large, they were very white and even.
+
+"As I've had no experience of cousins, how can I say?"
+
+"I shouldn't like you to feel that I'm beginning by evading what, for
+aught either of us can tell, might be my duty."
+
+Stooping, he kissed her on the mouth. Though it was little more than a
+butterfly's kiss, her lips seemed to meet his with a gentle pressure
+which he found agreeable.
+
+"You are a cousin!" she exclaimed.
+
+"I'm glad you are," he replied.
+
+"Didn't you really know you had a cousin?" He shook his head. "Nor I;
+isn't it queer? I only found it out the other day by the merest
+accident; in some respects dad is the most secretive person. I've been
+abroad for the last five years. How old do you think I am?"
+
+There was a frankness, a friendliness about this cousin which amused
+him. In that sense she could not have been more unlike her sire.
+
+"Twenty-two."
+
+"I'm twenty-five--isn't it awful? How old are you?"
+
+"I regret to say that I am only twenty-three. I'm afraid you'll regard
+me as only a kid."
+
+"Shall I? I don't think I shall. You don't look as if you were 'only a
+kid.' I've been what papa calls 'finishing my education.' Fancy! at my
+time of life! If my mother had been living I shouldn't have stood it;
+but, as you know, she died when I was only a tiny tot; and I knew
+dad--so I lay, comparatively, low. I've been living here and there and
+everywhere with the queerest duennas, though they really have been
+dears; and now and then I have had a good time, though I've had some
+frightfully dull ones. But at last I have struck. You know we've got a
+house in Russell Square?" Again he shook his head. "What do you know?"
+
+"So far as you are concerned--nothing. I know that I'm clerk to my
+uncle, and that's all."
+
+"Well, we have got a house in Russell Square. It's been shut up all
+these years--papa's been living in rooms. But I've made him refurbish
+it, and he's made it really nice--when he does undertake to do a thing
+he does it well--and I'm installed in it as mistress. Of course, I
+know Russell Square's out of the way, but they are good houses, and,
+if I can only manage dad, I'm going to have a real good time."
+
+"Did he tell you about me?"
+
+"Not he. Don't I tell you that I only discovered your existence by the
+merest accident? Do you remember a boy named Henderson who was at
+school with you?"
+
+"Alfred Henderson--very well; we moved together from form to form."
+
+"I know his sister Cissie; we were at school together, years ago,
+and she knows you. She told me the other day that you were in your
+uncle's office in St. Paul's Churchyard, and that his name was Graham
+Patterson, and was he any relation of mine. I nearly had a fit. When
+dad came home I bombarded him with questions---- What have you done to
+offend him?"
+
+"Nothing of which I'm conscious. Ever since I've been in the office
+I've been aware that he dislikes me, though I assure you that I've
+done my best to please him and give him no cause of complaint."
+
+"Well, he does not like you, and that's a fact. He as good as forbade
+me to make your acquaintance; but, as he wouldn't give any reasons, I
+decided to find out for myself what sort of person you were, and--then
+be guided by circumstances. The truth is, I've had enough of obeying
+dad, and that's another fact. If I'm not careful I shall end my days
+in a convent, and the conventual life has not the slightest attraction
+for me. I've got a will of my own, and when a girl is twenty-five it's
+about time that she should let such a very unreasonable parent as mine
+seems to be know it. I'm sure Cissie Henderson is a girl who knows
+what she is talking about, and as she said all sorts of nice things
+about you, and nothing else but nice things, I made up my mind that,
+since I had a cousin, I'd find out for myself what kind of cousin my
+cousin was. There is dad. Now you see how I manage him."
+
+A heavy step and a loud voice were heard without; then the door was
+thrown back upon its hinges.
+
+"Gladys! What does this mean?"
+
+"I've come to see my cousin, dad, as I told you I should do."
+
+"Come into my room."
+
+"Directly, dad. I want Rodney to come and dine with us to-night."
+
+Her father perceptibly winced at his daughter's use of the Christian
+name.
+
+"To-night? Impossible! I'm engaged."
+
+"Are you? Then in that case he can come and keep me company while you
+are out. We ought to have heaps of things to say to each other. Do you
+mind?"
+
+The question was put to Elmore. Mr. Patterson glared.
+
+"Gladys, I want you to come with me to the theatre to-night."
+
+"My dear dad, this is the first time I've heard of it--and, if you
+don't mind, I'd much rather not. One can go to the theatre any night,
+but one can't discover that one has a cousin, and meet him for the
+first time, every day. I'd much rather Rodney would come to dine.
+Won't you?"
+
+Again the question was put to Elmore.
+
+"I'd be very glad to come--with Mr. Patterson's permission."
+
+"You hear, dad? He'll come, with your permission. Nothing would please
+you more than that he should come, would it?"
+
+The father looked into the daughter's eyes, seeming to see something
+in them which kept him from uttering words which were at the tip of
+his tongue. He spoke gruffly.
+
+"Perhaps he has an engagement."
+
+"Have you?"
+
+"Not any."
+
+"And if you had, you'd throw it over to dine with us, wouldn't you?"
+
+"I certainly would."
+
+"You see, papa, what a compliment he pays you. Come, since it seems
+that he doesn't regard my invitation as sufficient, will you please
+ask him to dine with us to-night?"
+
+Again the father eyed his daughter. The observant youth, as he glanced
+from one to the other, was struck by the unmistakable evidence that
+this young woman was her father's child. He did not doubt that she had
+more than a touch of the paternal temper. He saw that Mr. Patterson,
+fearful of an exhibition of it then and there, as the lesser of two
+evils, yielded, not gracefully.
+
+"He can come if he likes."
+
+"Thank you, papa. You haven't a very pretty way--has he?--but as my
+invitation couldn't possibly be warmer, I'm sure you'll regard dad's
+endorsement as more than sufficient. So you will come?"
+
+"I shall be only too delighted."
+
+"Now, then, Gladys, come to my room. I want to speak to you."
+
+"Coming, dad. Remember, Rodney, our address is 90, Russell Square, and
+we dine at eight; but if you come any time after half-past seven
+you'll find me ready. You can't think how dad and I will look forward
+to your coming."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER III
+
+                       RODNEY ELMORE THE FIRST
+
+
+That was a curious dinner party. Elmore quite expected that when he
+had rid himself of his daughter his uncle would come and tell him that
+he was not to regard the invitation as having been seriously intended,
+and that he was not to present himself in Russell Square. But nothing
+of the sort occurred. He saw and heard no more of Mr. Patterson until
+he quitted the office, and just before a quarter to eight he entered
+the drawing-room at No. 90. Miss Patterson, who was its sole occupant,
+rose as he entered.
+
+"It's very good of you," she said, while she continued to allow her
+hand to remain in his, "to take the hint, and come early. Dad never
+shows till dinner's served, so that I shall have a chance of finding
+out before he comes what is the meaning of the extraordinary attitude
+he is taking up towards you. He simply poses as the father who has got
+to be obeyed, and as that sort of thing appears to be ridiculous, as I
+ventured to tell him, I expect you to tell me all about it."
+
+He told her all he had to tell, which was very little, in such fashion
+that inside fifteen minutes they were on terms almost of intimacy. He
+was one of those men who have a natural attraction for contrasting
+types of women; emphatically for that type of which Gladys Patterson
+was an example. The master of the house did not enter till dinner was
+served, and by the time they were seated at table Elmore was already
+aware that his cousin offered a pleasant and promising field for such
+experiments as he might choose to devise.
+
+Conversation was almost entirely confined to the two younger members
+of the party, the initiative being taken by Gladys, Elmore acting as a
+sort of chorus. The meal was of the solid, plentiful, well-cooked
+order, which one felt would appeal to the host. Beyond replying
+shortly to an occasional inquiry addressed to him by his daughter, Mr.
+Patterson's whole attention was given to his food, and wine. When
+dessert was on the table his daughter asked him:
+
+"Going out to-night, dad--as usual?"
+
+"No," he responded briefly, "I'm not."
+
+The young woman looked at her cousin with a twinkle in her eyes.
+
+"Dad follows the good old-fashioned custom of sitting over his wine.
+He thinks that a glass of port gives a proper finish to a meal. If you
+don't think so you can come into the drawing-room with me."
+
+"He'll stay here," observed the sire succinctly.
+
+But the damsel was equal to the occasion.
+
+"Very well, dad; then I'll stay too. And since this table really is
+too big for three, I think, Rodney, it would be more comfy if I were
+to bring my chair closer to yours. Are you fond of the theatre?"
+
+Having brought her chair to within a foot of Elmore's she entered with
+him into an animated discussion on the subject of favourite plays and
+players, while the host, practically speechless, sat at the head of
+his board drinking more port than was good for him. Elmore, who could
+be abstemious enough when he liked, had followed his cousin's lead,
+and drank nothing but mineral water. At last the young lady used his
+self-denial as a pivot to gain her own ends.
+
+"Really, dad, as Rodney won't join you in drinking, it's absurd our
+stopping here, especially as I want some music, so please, sir, will
+you come with me at once into the drawing-room?"
+
+Before the slow-witted host, whose brains had not been rendered more
+active by his libations, had awoke to the meaning of his daughter's
+proposition, she had borne the guest with her from the room. They were
+alone together in the drawing-room for more than half an hour. If the
+music of which Gladys had spoken was not much in evidence, their
+acquaintance moved at a rate which was only possible in the case of a
+young man who was willing--nay, eager--to take advantage of the
+peculiarities of a young woman's temperament. So that when his uncle
+did appear, with eyes a little dulled and feet a little unsteady,
+Rodney was quite ready to make his adieux and his cousin to excuse
+him.
+
+The acquaintance, thus commenced, not only continued, but advanced by
+leaps and bounds. Mr. Patterson's habits being those of a bachelor of
+a not too strait-laced kind rather than those of a family man, he did
+not find his daughter's society so congenial and satisfying as he
+might have done. Being desirous of doing as he liked, he left her with
+more freedom than he himself was perhaps aware of. She would even have
+not been without justification had she chosen to regard herself as
+neglected. But for what seemed to her to be sufficient reasons, she
+was content that her parent should amuse himself as he liked, though
+his doing so resulted in his practically overlooking her altogether.
+
+Rodney Elmore never went again to the house in Russell Square as his
+uncle's guest, but he went there more than once as his daughter's, and
+that sometimes at hours and under circumstances which were, to say the
+least, unconventional. More frequently their meetings were not in
+the neighbourhood of Bloomsbury. Mr. Patterson had a fondness for
+week-ending, without informing his daughter with whom he spent his
+time or where. It was not strange if, during such absences, his
+daughter did her best to avoid being too much alone. More than one
+such Sunday she and Rodney spent together from quite an early hour to
+quite a late one. Before long they were on terms which certainly could
+not have been more intimate had they been an engaged couple. But they
+were not, on that point they supposed that they understood each other
+thoroughly. Gladys had less than two hundred a year of her own, left
+her by her mother; and Rodney was pretty sure that if she married him
+her means would not be materially increased for many a day to come--if
+ever. He was by no means sure that he cared for her enough to marry
+her if all he got with her in marriage was her person; no one could be
+clearer than he was that she would not make the sort of wife who would
+be likely to be in any way whatever of assistance to a struggling
+husband. Her attitude was almost equally practical. That she liked him
+much more than he liked her was sure; there was hardly anything he
+could ask of her which she would not be willing to give. She believed
+in him much more than he believed in her; in her eyes he was nearly a
+hero. But, not being quite blind, she realised that, as things were,
+marriage for them was out of the question. She knew her father, and
+was aware that while up to a certain point she could do with him as
+she liked, if on a matter of capital importance he bade her not to do
+such and such a thing, and she did it, he would cut her as completely
+out of his life as if she had not been in it, and never miss her. She
+was conscious that she was as unfitted for love in a cottage as Elmore
+was; was, perhaps, even dimly alive to the fact that in such a
+position her plight would be worse than his was. So that their
+association was based on that quite up-to-date article of faith which
+sets forth that though a young man and a young woman can never be
+husband and wife, they may still be "pals."
+
+Elmore's position in the office was not improved by the incident of
+his having been a guest in Russell Square. Though his uncle never
+spoke to him upon the subject--nor, indeed, if he could help it, on
+any other--his nephew's acute perception realised that he had not
+grown to like him any more. As time went on a doubt began to grow up
+within him as to whether his uncle had not some inkling of the
+relations which existed between him and his daughter. That his doubt
+was well founded he was ultimately to learn. One morning, soon after
+his uncle's arrival, a request came to him to go to him at once in his
+room. When he went in he was struck, not by any means for the first
+time, by certain points about his uncle's appearance. He felt
+convinced that his relative's was not, from the insurance point of
+view, a good life. Rodney Elmore knew little of medicine, yet he
+hazarded a private opinion that Graham Patterson was a promising
+subject for an apoplectic stroke--the kind of man who, at any moment
+of undue stress, might have cerebral trouble from which he might not
+find it easy to recover. He caught himself wondering whether if, by
+any mischance, his uncle became the victim of such a catastrophe, it
+might not be worth his while to marry his cousin, if, indeed, that
+would not be the lady's own point of view. Were Graham Patterson to
+have such a stroke, it was at least within the range of possibility
+that he might never again be in a condition to manage his own affairs;
+in which case who would be so likely to be appointed administrator as
+the husband of his only child?
+
+While such gruesome imaginings occupied his mind, the subject of them
+continued to regard him with a stolid silence which at last struck him
+as singular.
+
+"I was told, sir, that you wished to speak to me."
+
+He said this with the little air of pleasant deference of which he was
+such a master and which became him so well. His uncle still said
+nothing, but continued to glare at him with his bloodshot eyes as if
+he were some strange object in an exhibition. He really looked so odd
+that Rodney began to wonder if that stroke was already in the air. He
+tried again to move him to speech.
+
+"I trust, sir, that nothing disagreeable has happened."
+
+Yet some seconds passed before his uncle did speak. When he did it was
+with a hard sort of ferocity which his listener felt accorded well
+with the singularity of his appearance.
+
+"You took my daughter to the Palace Theatre last night."
+
+Rodney wondered from whom he had learned the fact, being convinced
+that it was not from his daughter. However, since he could scarcely
+ask, he tried another line, one which he was conscious went close to
+the verge of insolence.
+
+"I hope, sir, that the Palace is not a theatre to which you object.
+Just now it has one of the best entertainments in London."
+
+Only in a very narrow sense could his uncle's response be regarded as
+a reply to his words.
+
+"You're an infernal young scoundrel!"
+
+Rodney did not attempt to feign resentment he did not feel. His
+quickly-moving wits told him that he was at last brought face to face
+with a position which he had for some time foreseen, and that for him
+the best attitude would probably be one of modest humility--at least,
+to begin with.
+
+"I don't think, sir, you are entitled to use such language to me on
+such slight grounds."
+
+"Don't you? You--you--beauty!"
+
+Obviously Mr. Patterson had substituted a different word for the one
+he had intended to use. Taking a slip of paper out of the drawer of
+the writing-table at which he was seated, he held it out towards
+Rodney.
+
+"You see that?"
+
+"I do, sir."
+
+"You know what it is?"
+
+"It appears to be a cheque."
+
+"You know what cheque it is."
+
+"If you will allow me to examine it more closely I shall perhaps be
+able to say."
+
+"You can examine it as closely as you please so long as it is in my
+hands. I wouldn't trust it in your hands for a good deal."
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+"You impudent young blackguard!"
+
+"And that, sir?"
+
+"I say it, you brazen young hypocrite, because that cheque happens to
+be a forgery, and you are the man who forged it."
+
+"Sir! I know that you are used to allow yourself a large license in
+the way of language, but this time, although you are my uncle, you go
+too far."
+
+"I intend to go much farther before I've done--and don't you throw the
+fact that I'm your uncle in my face, the most decent men have
+blackguards for relatives. This cheque was originally made out for
+eight pounds. I told you to ask young Metcalf to get cash for it.
+Between this room and Metcalf's desk you altered it to eighty pounds.
+It was easily done--especially by an expert like you. He brought you
+eighty pounds; you gave me eight, and kept seventy-two. You were aware
+that Metcalf was leaving the office that day to join his brother in
+Canada; you calculated that probably before the thing was discovered
+he would be on the high seas, and that, therefore, since everyone
+knew how much he was in want of cash, I should lay the guilt at his
+door--you dirty cur! But I didn't, never for one instant; the instant
+I saw the cheque I recognised your hand."
+
+"You recognised my hand? What do you mean by that, sir?"
+
+Mr. Patterson took something else out of his writing-table drawer,
+which, this time, he handed to his nephew.
+
+"Look at that."
+
+It was a portrait--the photograph of a man in the early prime of life.
+
+"Don't you think it might be yours?"
+
+Rodney felt that, allowing for the changes made by a few superimposed
+years, the resemblance to himself was striking, so striking that it
+was startling. The eyes looked at him out of the portrait with an
+expression which he recognised as so like his own that it bewildered
+him.
+
+"That's the portrait of your father. You don't remember him?"
+
+"Not at all."
+
+"I knew him all his life. You are so like what he was at your age that
+more than once when I have looked at you I have had an uncomfortable
+feeling that he had come back again to haunt me. Never was son more
+like his father, in all things."
+
+Rodney winced, scarcely knowing why. His uncle went on.
+
+"Your mother never spoke to you of him?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"She had what she supposed to be sufficient reasons for her reticence;
+she wished to hide from you, if possible, the knowledge of what manner
+of man your father was, thinking that the knowledge of the heritage of
+shame which he had left behind might drive you to walk in his
+footsteps. I was of a different opinion. I held that if you had in you
+any of the makings of a decent man, the knowledge of the sort of man
+your father was would serve you as a warning to keep off the path he'd
+followed. However, you were your mother's child, not mine, thank God;
+she had her way, though I warned her that the time would probably come
+when I should have to tell you the story she would rather have bitten
+off her tongue than tell."
+
+Mr. Patterson paused, keeping his eyes fixed on the young man in front
+of him. There was a quality in his gaze which made Rodney conscious of
+a sense of discomfort to which he had been hitherto a stranger.
+
+"You are so like your father that you even have his Christian name.
+Rodney Elmore the first was one of those creatures who sometimes come
+into the world, who could not run straight if they tried--and they
+never try. He was one of Nature's thieves; a born scamp; a lifelong
+blackguard. Your mother was my only sister; the only relative I had. I
+did not understand him so well before she married him as I did
+afterwards, but I understood him well enough to have kept her from
+marrying him if I could. But he was one of those hounds who, if they
+cannot get what they want by fair means, will not hesitate to get it
+by foul; he even won his wife by foul means, taking advantage of her
+girlish innocence so that she had to become his wife to save her good
+name. She lived for six years with him in hell. Then he was detected
+in a series of frauds which would probably have resulted in his being
+sent to penal servitude for life. Rather than face the music, he
+committed suicide."
+
+Again Mr. Patterson paused, and his nephew, on his side, kept still.
+It seemed to him that his uncle's voice was the voice of doom; he was
+aware of a sensation of actual physical pain as he listened, as if
+sentence had not only been pronounced, but punishment also begun. He
+had wondered vaguely more than once what manner of man his father was,
+and, since she had volunteered no information, had put questions on
+the subject to his mother. But she had staved them off in a fashion
+which suggested--since even in the days of his boyhood his mental
+processes were sufficiently acute--that there was not much to be told
+about him which redounded to his credit. So, as years brought wisdom,
+his curiosity became less and less; a feeling grew up in his bosom
+that perhaps the less he knew about his father the better it might be.
+Never, however, had his most pessimistic imaginings come near the
+reality as portrayed by his uncle. He, the son of a lifelong rogue,
+who had only escaped the penalty of his misdeeds by self-destruction!
+He began to apprehend the meaning of the attitude his uncle had taken
+up towards him. His uncle did his best to assist him to a clearer
+comprehension.
+
+"I never would have anything to do with you. I had suffered too much
+from your father to be willing by any overt act to acknowledge your
+existence, especially as a relative of mine. I resented your
+existence. I am not more superstitious than the average man, but I had
+a strong conviction that with you it would be a case of like father
+like son. The paternal qualities were too strong, too ingrained, too
+much the very essence of his being not to be transmitted. When your
+mother came and begged me to take you into my office I asked her
+point-blank if you were not your father's son. She denied it. I
+believed then that she lied; now I know it. I have no doubt that she
+had detected you over and over again in acts which recalled your
+father."
+
+Rodney wondered if that really was the case. She had never hinted
+anything of the sort to him. He understood now why, with her dying
+breath, she had entreated him to be honest. Did she realise at the
+very portals of death what a broken reed his promise was? He shivered
+at the thought.
+
+"So soon as you came into this office I knew that I had been right,
+and that you were every inch your father's son. You are clever; don't
+suppose that I don't appreciate the fact. I am not so clever, which
+fact you have taken rather too much for granted. You have overlooked
+one quality I have, and that is--a nose for a thief. I owe to it a
+good deal of such success as I have had--in a sense, I can smell a
+thief so soon as he comes near me. Of course, in your case I had your
+father's record to help me; but I think that, without it, I should
+have scented you, your odour was so pungent. You had not been in the
+place a month before you began to play your little tricks. I do not
+flatter myself that I found you out in all of them, but I did in a
+good many. I said nothing, but I made a note of each, and have the
+complete record in a certain volume which will possibly be produced
+one day in a court of assize. Then there came the incident of the
+cheque--the eight pounds which you turned into eighty. When I saw that
+cheque I realised that immunity had given you courage, and that you
+were beginning to fly at higher game. I am, as I believe you and other
+gentlemen in the office are aware, a regular old fogey, a dray-horse
+sort of man. I never, if I can help it, arrive at a hasty decision. I
+put that cheque aside and waited; you see, although you live to the
+age of Methuselah, a thing like this is always up against you--you can
+never get away from it. I was in no hurry."
+
+Again Mr. Patterson paused. Leaning back in his chair, he smiled.
+Rodney told himself that he resembled an ogre who was enjoying, in
+anticipation, the meal he proposed to make of him.
+
+"After all, my lad, although you are so clever, you're a fool--indeed,
+your cleverness is folly. If you had to be dishonest, hadn't you sense
+enough to gratify your instincts on less dangerous lines? You have
+made a serious mistake in underrating me; perhaps that's because your
+experience of men is small. I've been watching you; you've been living
+in a fool's paradise--your conscience has never pinched you because
+you have never feared discovery. Yet, if you had troubled yourself to
+think, you must have known that, sooner or later, discovery was bound
+to come, and that, when it did, I had you. You were a fool, my lad, a
+fool."
+
+The speaker's smile grew more pronounced. To his nephew's thinking it
+became more and more like an ogre's grin. But when he went on it not
+only vanished, but its place was taken by something which was
+unpleasantly like a snarl.
+
+"Then my daughter came on the scene. There, again, you were at fault,
+because it so happens that I understand my daughter almost as well as
+you do. She may think herself romantic, but she isn't--there's no more
+romance about her than there is about me. She's a healthy, vigorous
+female animal, with her father's blood in her veins, and her father's
+fondness for the good things of this life of all sorts and kinds.
+She's seen little of men, especially young men, and I quite appreciate
+the fact that you're just the sort of young man at whose head she
+would fling herself--with a little delicate encouragement from you.
+But she won't, don't you make any mistake, my lad. I haven't forgotten
+how your father won your mother; and I promise you you shan't win my
+daughter in the same way. On the day on which I suspected you of any
+such intention you'd be branded as a gaol bird, and for the whole
+remainder of your life you'd be passing in and out of prison gates.
+I'm asking for no promise, being aware that you're one of Nature's
+liars, I know that not the least reliance is to be placed on any word
+you utter, but I'm giving you a promise. You can make any excuse to
+her you like--I'm sure you're a whale at excuses; if you ever speak to
+her again, even to tell her that you're not to speak; if you ever
+write to her; if you ever hold any communication with her whatever,
+you'll pass into the hands of the police, and I'll tell her your story
+and your father's. My girl has another thing in common with her
+father--she's honest, she hates a rogue. And if she knew that you were
+a common kennel thief, as your father was before you, she'd have no
+more truck with you if you were twenty times her husband, and I don't
+believe she'd move a finger to save you from penal servitude. I'm not
+going to turn you away; you're going to continue to occupy your
+present position in my office, so that I can keep my eye on you, so
+don't you try to turn tail and run. Now we understand each other. I
+have my morning letters to attend to, but I thought I'd better have
+this little explanation with you first. Now you can go; take my
+advice--if you can--steal no more. If you keep along the same path
+you'll find at the end what your father found, he was no more anxious
+to find it than you are--suicide."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IV
+
+                    THE THREE GIRLS AND THE THREE
+                              TELEGRAMS
+
+
+His uncle's words were in Rodney's ears for days afterwards. Was it
+conceivable that he, to whom life was so sweet a thing, could under
+any circumstances seek refuge in a suicide's grave? It was horrid that
+his father should have been that sort of man; it was hard on him. His
+mother ought to have told him; at least he would have been on his
+guard. No wonder his uncle had been prejudiced against him; had his
+mother not been so unkindly silent, he might--well, he might have
+framed his conduct, so far as his uncle was concerned, on different
+lines. How could he have guessed that his uncle was observing him with
+almost unnatural keenness; while, all the time, he supposed him to be
+purblind? It was a most unfortunate position for a young fellow to be
+placed in; a word from his mother would have been of such assistance.
+He was always reluctant to blame anyone; yet he could not but
+feel that his parents had not used him well; with that moral
+colour-blindness, which was one of his most striking characteristics,
+he was already beginning to lump them together, though he knew
+perfectly well, of his own knowledge, that, in all things, his mother
+had been the soul of honour.
+
+He was most awkwardly placed as regards his cousin; he had engagements
+with her which he was aware she would resent his breaking; and her
+father had even forbidden him to explain. Not that he could think of
+any explanation which would meet the case from her point of view; she
+was apt to be quick-tempered where he was concerned, and he was most
+anxious to keep in with her; one never knew what might happen. He had
+been cramming up the subject of apoplexy, both from books, and from
+the lips of medical acquaintances; and he felt sure, from certain
+little things he had noticed, that it was quite possible that his
+uncle might have a stroke at any second; and, of course, if he did,
+the situation would be entirely altered. But, at the same time, that
+could not be counted on; and, in the meanwhile, there was Gladys both
+to consider and conciliate. Still, he managed; his dexterity in such
+matters was remarkable. He contrived that a communication should reach
+his cousin to the effect that her father had forbidden him to meet
+her, on pain of instant dismissal, and that, to save her from the
+paternal anger, he had promised that he would not even write to her.
+He counselled her, however, to be patient, expressing his conviction
+that this state of things was not likely to continue, and that before
+long they would be more than compensated for the brief period during
+which they would be separated one from the other.
+
+Then he went to his uncle in his room at the office, and telling him,
+what was quite true, that Gladys had written asking for an explanation
+of his sudden cessation of their intimacy, requested him, for
+everybody's sake, since he had ordered him not to write to her, to
+inform her himself of the prohibition he had laid upon his nephew.
+This, grimly enough, Mr. Patterson undertook to do, and doubtless did.
+And for more than a fortnight Rodney Elmore had quite a dull time.
+Then a sequence of events came crowding on him so rapidly that within
+a period of some eight-and-forty hours the whole course of his life
+was changed.
+
+The sequence began on a certain Saturday morning. Before he was yet
+out of his bedroom he was informed that Mr. Austin had called; and,
+indeed, the words were hardly spoken before Tom showed himself in.
+Rodney was unfeignedly glad to see him. He had always liked Tom,
+who was the antipodes of himself; a red-headed, freckle-faced,
+simple-minded youth, who was not likely to set the Thames on fire, and
+who, in fact, had no desires in that direction. He had "cut" college
+for a few days, but had to hurry back by an early train; which
+explained the matutinal hour he had chosen for a call. He brought news
+that Stella was in town, staying with some people over Kensington way;
+and suggested, as he rather thought that Stella found it dullish, that
+he should look her up, if possible that very afternoon, and take her
+somewhere. Rodney declared that he would be only too glad to have the
+chance; he would get away early from the office, and go straight to
+her, and would let her have a wire at once to let her know that he was
+coming.
+
+Then, when they adjourned to breakfast, a meal at which the visitor
+expressed his readiness to assist, Tom volunteered the information
+that he had been down to see Mary Carmichael, who was staying with an
+aunt at Hove. She was quite well, was Mary, and, if anything, prettier
+than ever; and he rather thought that, at last, he had fixed things up
+with her. As he said this he flushed a red which was not at all the
+same shade as his hair.
+
+"You know," he observed, "how she's always refused to take me
+seriously, and what a job I've had to get her to do it, and how she's
+always ragged me, pretending that I was too young to know my own mind,
+and all that sort of rot. Well, this time I rather fancy that I've
+convinced her that I do know my own mind; and, what's more, I fancy
+that I've found out what's in hers too. You know, she's always stuck
+out that she'd have nothing to say to me about--you know what, till
+I'd taken my degree. Of course, I ought to have taken the beastly
+thing ages ago; there's no need for anyone to tell me that; but this
+time I am going to do the trick--you see. Everyone will tell you that
+I've been working like blazes, and even my tutor has hopes. Mary as
+good as told me last night that if I once got the thing the banns
+could go up inside three months--honestly, she did. Of course, she was
+only laughing; you know how she does laugh at a fellow; but I believe
+she meant it, all the same. I say, this ham of yours is top hole; I'll
+have another whack."
+
+While Tom helped himself to the other "whack," his friend said with a
+sigh:
+
+"You're a lucky beggar to be able to think of marriage at your time of
+life."
+
+"Don't I know it? For that I've got the pater to thank; he's been
+making more piles. All he really wants is that I should settle down;
+nothing would please him better than to see me married; he'd be almost
+as glad as I should to have Mary as a member of the family. Isn't it
+queer that while I've liked Mary all her life I've liked her more and
+more as time went on, until--well, if I do get her I shall have got
+all I want."
+
+"Then, with all my heart, I hope you get her."
+
+"I've decided hopes, old man--decided. I say, you know, Stella's not a
+bad sort, although I am her brother."
+
+"Do you think that I don't know it?"
+
+"You're the best pal I have in the world, and--I don't think she
+objects to you."
+
+"Tom, dear old chap, don't say another word--please. I'm never going
+to ask a girl to marry me until I'm in a position to keep her as my
+wife should be kept."
+
+"That's sound enough in a general way; but as regards this particular
+case it's all tuppence. Stella has money, and the pater, if properly
+worked, would supply more; I happen to know that he's quite willing
+she should marry anyone she likes, so long as it's a decent chap--and
+he knows you're that. Why, if it comes to that, he could slip you, as
+easy as winking, into a much better berth than the one you have at
+your uncle's."
+
+"Tom, I know you're the best chum a man ever had, and one day I'm
+going to prove it. I haven't your happy knack of baring my heart, even
+to myself; I'm a more secretive kind of brute; but, like you, I have
+my dreams, and before very long I hope to have good news for you. But
+now, please, don't say anything more about it."
+
+And Tom said nothing; he changed the subject to Oxford gossip,
+chattering away light-heartedly while Rodney glanced at the letters
+which the morning post had brought. Among them was one in a bold,
+slashing hand, which he knew well.
+
+
+                                   "90, Russell Square.
+
+                                                    "Friday.
+
+"DEAR OLD BOY,--The dad's gone off weekending without notice, and I
+never found out what he was going to do till it was too late to get at
+you, or I would have got; so here am I in this great mausoleum of a
+house all on my lonesome. To-morrow, early, I've an engagement with
+Cissie Henderson, but in the evening--and no nonsense, sir!--you'll
+have to dine me in some quiet place, where there are no prying eyes;
+and afterwards you can amuse me as you like. No excuse will be
+accepted; I want to spend to-morrow evening in your society, and I'm
+going to--and the dad can go hang! So mind you send me a wire directly
+you get this to let me know where I'm to meet you--at seven, sir!--and
+don't let there be any mistake about it. Until we do meet,
+
+                                                 "Yours, G."
+
+
+As he read this characteristic note of an up-to-date young woman a
+chord was touched somewhere in Rodney's being which made him conscious
+of a pleasant little thrill. Even while Austin chattered he was
+telling himself that he also would let the lady's "dad go hang," and
+that she should spend the evening in his society, be the consequences
+what they might.
+
+When the visitor departed it was understood that Rodney would send a
+wire on his way to the office to let Stella know at what time she
+might expect him. Scarcely had Austin left the house than there came a
+telegram for Elmore. He opened it, supposing it to be from the
+impatient lady in Russell Square; but he was wrong. The message ran:
+
+
+"Do come down to-morrow and cheer me up. Aunt is going out. I shall be
+alone. I have had Tom as companion for three whole days, so am in need
+of a tonic. Wire train. Be sure and come.
+
+                                             "MARY."
+
+
+Mary? For a moment he wondered who Mary was. Then he saw that the
+message had been handed in at a Brighton post-office, and he
+understood. Mary? Mary was Mary Carmichael. At the thought of her his
+eyes sparkled and his spirits rose. After a fashion Mary Carmichael
+was the feminine creature in all the world that he liked best. Not
+only was she pretty, and dainty, and bright, and smart and clever, but
+just as Gladys Patterson appealed to him in one direction so Mary
+Carmichael did in another. Her telegram suggested what that direction
+was; in a way they were birds of a feather. Tom Austin had been her
+life-long admirer, slave, her avowed wooer; quite probably one day she
+would become his wife; yet she was not averse to being "cheered up" by
+his bosom friend, after confessing, by telegram, that she had been
+bored by three days of his society. Rodney chuckled at the thought of
+it; the thing seemed to him to be so amusing. Just now Tom had been
+telling him, with boyish candour, in single-hearted confidence in his
+integrity, that he had come away from Brighton under the impression
+that he was shortly to be made the happiest of men; and here was the
+girl who was to make him happy so anxious for an antidote to his
+society, begging him to do what Tom clearly had not done--cheer her
+up--and adding, as a peculiar inducement, that she would be alone.
+Poor old Tom! what a fool he was--and what a little minx was pretty
+Miss Mary!
+
+On his way to the office Rodney sent three telegrams. One to Stella
+Austin, at Kensington, to say that he would be with her as near to two
+o'clock as possible, and that he hoped she would come out with him;
+one to Gladys Patterson, in Russell Square, asking her to meet him at
+a restaurant in Jermyn Street at seven sharp; one to Mary Carmichael,
+at Hove, informing her that he would arrive in Brighton to-morrow
+morning by the train due at noon. It was a female clerk to whom he
+handed these three messages; when she had scanned them she glanced up
+at him, as he felt, with a species of curiosity; he had a suspicion
+that she smiled.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER V
+
+                                STELLA
+
+
+On the whole, Rodney Elmore spent a pleasant afternoon with Stella
+Austin. He took her to the Zoological Gardens, which was a place she
+liked. Beyond doubt she enjoyed herself immensely. She was very fond
+of animals, even of the most savage kind. In the wild-beast house,
+confronting the lions and the tigers, with Rodney at her side, she
+wondered, with a little shudder, what would happen if the creatures
+all got out. Drawing her arm in his, he pressed it closely; she liked
+that, too.
+
+From his point of view, the pleasure with which she greeted him on his
+arrival at the house in Kensington was almost pathetic. He reproached
+her gently for not having told him she was coming to town. She replied
+that it had only been decided at the last moment, and that she was
+just going to write to him when Tom, appearing on the scene, offered
+to take the news in person. The way in which she took it for granted
+that he was as glad to see her as she was to see him appealed to his
+sympathy so strongly that he was nearly moved to take her in his arms
+and kiss her there and then. But he refrained. He never had kissed
+Stella, even in the old days. He had always had a feeling that a kiss
+would mean so much more to her than it did to him; indeed, that was
+one of her faults in his eyes, that everything meant so much more to
+her than it did to him. Often he would have liked to kiss her; having
+brought matters to a point at which a kiss was the next thing which
+might have been expected, he felt sure that she had expected it. But
+he kept himself sufficiently in hand to stop on the very edge, having
+it in his mind that it might be as well for him to be able, some day,
+if need be, to assert with truth that he had never gone beyond it.
+
+Ordinarily he would have had no scruples on such a point. Oddly
+enough, in a sense, he was afraid of Stella, recognising in her an
+essential purity with which he himself had nothing in common. Her
+standard of life was so infinitely above his own that he was always
+conscious of a sense of strain after being some time in her company;
+it came from his attempting to sustain himself in the rarefied
+atmosphere in which she moved with ease. He would have been willing to
+hold her in his arms; he would have loved to; but he would not have
+liked to know that she was his superior in all essentials; and he
+would have to know. Sooner or later she might discover what kind of
+creature he was; but, though he believed that in such a plight she
+would keep her own counsel, none the less he would resent the
+discovery she had made.
+
+Then, again, his taste in women was fastidious; he was not sure that
+she filled all his requirements. She was pleasant enough to look at;
+had pretty eyes, a fresh complexion, a tender smile--sometimes when
+she smiled he loved her so that it was all he could do to keep from
+committing himself utterly. But she was short and broad for her
+height; to his thinking her figure lacked dignity. He had the modern
+young man's notion that if you look at the mother you will see what
+the daughter is going to be. Mrs. Austin was plump and matronly; he
+feared that before long Stella would be the same. He did not care for
+matronly women; he liked them tall and slim. Then he was particular
+about the way in which a woman dressed; he liked those whom he
+favoured with his society, as he put it, to do him credit. He had
+felt, only too often, that Stella was almost dowdy; she was never
+really smart. Her clothes were good of their kind, but they suggested
+the provinces; or she had not the knack of showing them off to
+advantage. He liked a girl's foot to be cased in what he called a
+pretty stocking, and a smart shoe with a Louis heel; Stella wore
+serviceable shoes with low heels, and the plainest of stockings. With
+these things in his mind he had ventured, once, to hint that he would
+like to have the dressing of her. She had been silent for some
+seconds, and had then replied, scarcely above a whisper, and with
+downcast eyes:
+
+"Perhaps one day you will."
+
+He was perfectly conscious that that "one day" was the day of which
+she was always dreaming. He was not sure that he was so willing it
+should come as she was.
+
+But that afternoon he was not disposed to be critical. He was really
+glad to see her. It was some time since they had met; he was nearly
+surprised to find what a jolly girl she was; her smile was unusually
+tender. As they quitted the monkey-house she spoke of Tom and Mary.
+
+"Did Tom tell you that he has nearly brought that hard-hearted Mary of
+his to the promising point?"
+
+"He did seem to be sanguine."
+
+"Poor old Tom! I believe if she'd promise quite he'd pass straight
+off; it's anxiety which causes him to be ploughed. I've written to
+Mary telling her just what I think, and informing her that she's to
+keep him no longer suspended between heaven and earth, but that she's
+to marry him at once. Mamma wants it, papa wants it, I want it, Tom
+wants it--everybody wants it. She's the dearest girl in the world; but
+she's a goose."
+
+"Because she hesitates?"
+
+"Why should she? Tom will make her the best husband in the world--you
+know he will."
+
+"Perhaps every girl doesn't want 'the best husband in the world.'"
+
+"Are you trying to say something clever? If she has a husband, of
+course she does. Do look at those two in front; I've been watching
+them. She keeps putting out her hand to feel for his, or he puts out
+his to feel for hers. Do you think they're newly married?"
+
+"Is that how you mean to behave when you're newly married?"
+
+"It depends."
+
+"On what?"
+
+"Oh, it depends."
+
+"You said that before. On what does it depend?"
+
+Suddenly a glimpse he caught of the smile which lighted up her face
+started him off at a tangent--without waiting for her answer.
+
+"It seems ages since I saw you last; it's awfully nice to see you
+again--especially as you're looking prettier than ever."
+
+"Do you like this frock that I've got on? You ought to, I had it made
+specially for you--you are so critical about my clothes."
+
+"Oughtn't a man to be critical about the girl he--he cares for?"
+
+"Do you care for me?"
+
+"You know I do."
+
+"How much?"
+
+"More than I--dare tell you."
+
+"Rodney."
+
+"Stella."
+
+"I hope one day, before very long, you'll find courage enough."
+
+The challenge was a direct one. In such matters he was such a creature
+of impulse that it set his pulses galloping. They had reached a spot
+where they had for sole society some queer-looking birds who peered at
+them through the wires which confined them to their runs.
+
+"Stella, you mustn't tempt me. If you only knew what I'd give to be
+able to take you in my arms."
+
+"Rodney, it isn't fair of you to talk like that. You say that sort of
+thing, and make me feel as if the world were whirling round and round,
+and then you go no farther."
+
+"You know why I go no farther."
+
+"I don't! I don't!"
+
+As she turned and looked at him he saw how her cheeks were flushed;
+that tears were in her pretty eyes; how her lips were twisted as by
+physical pain. He really was so fond of her that the sight of her
+suffering moved him almost beyond endurance. Careless of spectators
+who might come at any moment to look at the birds, he took both her
+hands in his.
+
+"Stella!"
+
+He paused; he was conscious how pregnant with meaning the pause was to
+her, how she waited for his words. He let them come.
+
+"Stella, will you be my wife?"
+
+"You know I will! How long have you known it, sir? How long have you
+been aware that you had only to ask to have? I go all over shame when
+I think of it. I don't--I really don't--think you've used me quite
+fairly, sir. Because, you know, you oughtn't to keep on telling a girl
+that you care for her, and--then say nothing more. I've even sometimes
+wondered if you were playing with me--I have! Were you?"
+
+"Never. How could you think it?"
+
+"I had to think something, hadn't I? And--what could I think? Then you
+do really and truly care for me?"
+
+"With the whole force of my being."
+
+She drew a long breath, as if it were a sigh of pleasure.
+
+"And you really and truly want me to be your wife?"
+
+"As Tom said of Mary--if I get you I get all that I want in the
+world."
+
+"Then, why didn't you try to get me before?"
+
+"Stella, every man has his own standard. You have money; perhaps one
+day you'll have more; I have no money; perhaps I never may have. Under
+those circumstances, though I worshipped the ground you stood on, I
+had, and have, no right to ask you to be my wife. I have held out
+against the temptation to do so over and over again, but--I could hold
+out no longer. You must forgive me."
+
+"For what? For having what you call 'held out'? I am not sure that I
+do. You can't have wanted me so very, very much, or you wouldn't have
+held out so long. That's what I feel."
+
+"Stella, if you only knew!"
+
+"And if you only knew!"
+
+"The days I've thought of you, and the nights I've dreamed!"
+
+"And do you suppose that I can't think--and dream?"
+
+"Sometimes, after I've left you with the words unuttered, and thought
+of what I should feel if I had you in my arms, it was pretty hard to
+bear."
+
+"Rodney!--I wonder if anyone is coming? After all your holding out,
+you have--chosen a funny place."
+
+Heedless of anyone coming, he put his arm about her waist and drew her
+quickly to the comparative shelter of a fairly grown tree.
+
+When Rodney Elmore had started out with Stella Austin nothing had been
+farther from his mind than any intention of asking her to be his wife.
+He was amazed to find, now that the thing was done, how pleasant it
+had been. The whole episode had been delightful--so delightful that he
+was loth to bring it to a close. The rubicon being passed, another
+Stella was revealed. The simple question he had put to her might have
+been some magic formula, so great a change had it wrought in the
+maiden. He had never credited her with the capacity to be so
+delicious; for she was delicious in a dozen unsuspected ways. He had
+been fond of her before he asked her to be his wife; in less than half
+an hour! afterwards he was in love with her. The new Stella had
+bewitched him; to such a degree that he would have been willing to
+stay with her in the Zoological Gardens for an indefinite period of
+time, had he not had a previous engagement. It was with a feeling of
+distinct disgust that he realised that he would have to tear himself
+away. Nor was the parting rendered easier by the lady's attitude. She
+could not be brought to see that any engagement was of such importance
+that, on that day of all days, he was forced to leave her so
+summarily. Nor would he have left her, could he have helped it. He
+assured her, with perfect truth, that he would have only been too
+happy to spend the evening with her at the house of her friends in
+Kensington, had he dared, but he did not dare. She asked him why,
+being now entitled to ask such questions. He did not tell her that it
+was because he was conscious that it might be almost more dangerous to
+disappoint his cousin than to rob her father. He fabricated instead an
+ingenious lie, which convinced her against her will.
+
+Then there arose the question of the morrow. Being Sunday, of course
+he would be able to spend the whole of it with her. There, again, a
+previous engagement blocked the way. He explained that, never having
+anticipated the delightful footing on which he stood with her, he had
+made the engagement long ago. Would she have him break his word? It
+depended, she said, to whom his word was pledged; she did think that
+he might spend that first Sunday with her. Then he spun a yarn about
+an old friend of his mother who had begged him again and again to
+visit her, to whom he had promised to go at last. He knew that she had
+made all sorts of preparations for his reception; now, if he were to
+throw her over she would feel, with justice, that he had treated her
+very badly. He could not bear that she should feel that. She was his
+mother's dearest friend. Her name was Staples. She lived in a little
+village the other side of Dorking. Stella supposed that, anyhow, he
+would not have to stay there late. As to that, he could not say. The
+Sunday trains to Dorking were very awkward. But this he promised, at
+the earliest moment at which with decency he could get away, he would;
+and if the hour of his return to town were not frightfully late he
+would rush over to Kensington, if it were only for half a dozen words.
+But of this she might be quite certain; he would spend the whole of
+Monday evening with her if she would let him; he would come straight
+to her from the office.
+
+So, finally, on that understanding, they parted; that he would come to
+her on Sunday, if only for a minute or two, and that, anyhow, he would
+revel in her dear society for so much of Monday as was left after his
+office work was done. But, for him, between that and Monday, the world
+was to be turned upside down.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VI
+
+                                GLADYS
+
+
+Hurry as he might, it was nearly half-past seven before Rodney Elmore
+reached that restaurant in Jermyn Street at which he was due at seven.
+The fault was Stella's. Had she not spun out the parting to such an
+unconscionable length, he would have been able to be there in time.
+But he could not explain this to Gladys Patterson, who had never heard
+of the girl. She rose, as he came in, from a seat in the vestibule,
+with a face which mirrored the anxiety she had felt.
+
+"Whatever is the matter? I thought that something had happened, and
+you weren't coming."
+
+"My dearest child, I've been the victim of a series of accidents; I
+was beginning to wonder myself if I should ever get here."
+
+Then he told another lie--invented on the spur of the moment. He had
+not troubled to prepare one on the way; he was not sure of the mood in
+which he might find her; one story might suit one mood another
+another. With him, to lie was as easy as to breathe; he himself was
+often hardly conscious he was lying, he lied so like truth.
+
+"So you see, I've been half off my head, and in a deuce of a stew.
+Perhaps you'll tell me what you'd have done in my position. But, thank
+goodness, I'm here at last. The worst of it is, I haven't ordered
+dinner, or reserved a table; we shall have to take pot-luck; let's
+hope that the _table d'hote_ is worth eating."
+
+It so chanced that there was a table, and that the _menu_ of the set
+dinner read quite well. Presently they were fronting each other at a
+little table in a corner of the room, each in the best possible frame
+of mind. She had forgotten the strain of waiting in her delight that
+he had come, while he was charmed to find her in so good a temper.
+Indeed, he seemed to be in the very highest spirits, and when he was
+that no one could be better company. Then the food was good; that was
+a point on which they both were excellent judges. On the occasion of
+that first dinner in Russell Square each had played on the other a
+pleasant comedy; to make a good impression on the strange cousin, who
+might have views on such matters, Gladys had drunk nothing but water,
+and, for some similar reason, Rodney had done the same. It was only
+when, later, they were on more intimate terms, that they learned that
+neither was a teetotaller. It was rather funny. As a matter of fact,
+so far as the pleasures of the table were concerned, Gladys was in
+very truth her father's child; not only could she appreciate good food
+well cooked, but she was by way of being a connoisseur of certain
+wines; and in such respects Rodney was an excellent second.
+
+Before the dinner was half way through she was looking at him with
+something in her eyes which spoke to a similar something which was in
+his. He had forgotten the episode of the afternoon as if it had never
+been. This was the sort of girl he loved to have in front of him on
+the other side of a table--one who would eat what he ate, drink what
+he drank, do as he did; to whom he could say whatever he pleased. They
+joked on the subject of the absent Mr. Patterson.
+
+"I wonder," she said, "what would happen if he walked in here at this
+very moment."
+
+Rodney also wondered, for a second, in silence.
+
+"For one thing, he'd spoil our evening, because he'd start you
+straight away off home."
+
+"Would he? I should take some starting. I never am particularly afraid
+of him, and I'm not in the least when I've had two glasses of
+Montebello--rattling good bottle, this is. Thank you; that's the
+third. What beats me is why you're afraid of him. You don't strike me
+as being a person who's afraid of much. What would it matter if he did
+give you the key of the street, so far as his office is concerned?
+You'd easily find a better one. There's a mystery somewhere. Don't
+imagine, my dear old man, that I don't know so much. Why has he such
+an objection to you? And why are you so much in awe of him? Now's your
+time--out with it. Make a clean breast of it--between this glass and
+the next."
+
+"I can't tell you why he objects to me, but I can assure you that I
+don't stand in awe of him."
+
+"Rubbish! If you don't, why have you kept away from me in the way you
+have done?--you exasperating boy! I console myself with the reflection
+that if I'm losing your society you're losing mine; because I'll bet a
+trifle that you're just as fond of seeing me every other day or so as
+I am of seeing you."
+
+"You're right there. If I saw you all day and every day I shouldn't
+mind."
+
+"I'm not so sure of that; there's a limit. It might be all right for a
+time; but, my hat! wouldn't you get bored after a month of nothing
+else but my society!"
+
+"What price you--after a month of nothing else but me?"
+
+She seemed to reflect before she answered.
+
+"You see, it's like this; if you and I were alone together for a
+month, or longer----"
+
+"I'd be willing to make it longer."
+
+"Would you?"
+
+She looked at him with shining eyes.
+
+"Rodney, you're a dear. If we were to be alone together for so long as
+that, we should have to alter the pace. I fancy that where a man and a
+woman are concerned it's the pace that kills."
+
+"What do you mean by that, oh, wise one?"
+
+"If you had one pound of chocs to eat you might gobble them down as
+fast as you please, and no harm would be done."
+
+"You've tried it?"
+
+"Perhaps! But if you had a ton you would have to go, oh so carefully,
+or you would be so sick. But we meet so seldom that when we do we want
+to gobble; I know that, so far as I am concerned, I want to get as
+much of you as I possibly can during the short time we are together."
+
+"Same here--only more so."
+
+They smiled at each other across the little table. Then, glancing
+down, she transferred her attention to what was on her plate.
+
+"But, of course, if we weren't to part for a month--or more--it would
+be different."
+
+"True, oh, queen! And suppose we were to marry!"
+
+"I don't think I'd mind."
+
+"I'm pretty nearly sure I shouldn't."
+
+"That's very sweet of you to say so. Only--there's dad!"
+
+"There's very much dad!"
+
+"He can forbid my seeing you, and that kind of thing, if he pleases;
+and if he finds out that I've been disobedient he'll make himself
+extremely disagreeable. Still, I fancy I could manage him. But if I
+were to marry you against his wishes, I don't believe I'd ever get
+another penny from him, living or dead; and as you have no immediate
+promise of becoming a millionaire, that would be awkward for both of
+us."
+
+"It would. All the same, don't you think it would be comfy if we were
+secretly engaged--in the event of anything happening to him?"
+
+"What's going to happen?"
+
+"Anything--living the sort of life he does."
+
+"Are you hinting that there's anything the matter with his health?"
+
+"My dear girl, you've only to use your eyes to be aware that a doctor
+would tell him that he's the kind of man who ought to swear off
+everything. And does he?"
+
+"You make me feel all shivery. You talk as if you expected him to die
+right off."
+
+"We've all had sentence of capital punishment pronounced against us,
+and, though we don't know when it will be put into execution, in such
+a case as his it's possible to guess that it mayn't be very long
+postponed."
+
+"Rodney! I don't like to hear you talk like that. He's fond of asking
+me questions about you; I hate telling lies; if we were engaged, and
+he were in one of his cross-examining moods, I might find myself in a
+fix."
+
+He played with his knife while a waiter was bringing another course.
+
+"Consider something else. Let me put a hypothetical case. Suppose a
+girl were to make a dead set at me, I might like to be able to tell
+her that I'm engaged already."
+
+"Who's the girl?"
+
+"The girl, like the case, is hypothetical; but I can conceive of
+circumstances in which I should like to feel that we were engaged."
+
+"You've changed your mind. A short time ago you were all the other
+way."
+
+"I've been considering matters. Say, for example, that your father
+puts his foot down, and that we don't see each other again for an
+indefinite period. Do you not think that then I should not like to
+feel that we were engaged?"
+
+"You can feel that we're engaged all you want to, without our setting
+it down in black and white. Aren't you as sure of me as if I were your
+wife already? Don't you know that if circumstances permitted I would
+become your wife? Do you wish me to understand that I'm not as sure of
+you?"
+
+"Gladys, you're a goose. So far as I'm concerned, I'm inclined to the
+opinion that I'd like you to be my wife to-night."
+
+"It's you who are the goose. As if we didn't understand each other far
+too well to render it necessary to have things placed on a ceremonious
+footing. We can do without formulas."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VII
+
+                                 MARY
+
+
+On the Sunday Rodney Elmore kept his engagement with the third young
+woman, with the punctiliousness on which, in such matters, he prided
+himself. He went down to Brighton on the Pullman, Limited, and was met
+at the station by Mary Carmichael. He exclaimed, at sight of her:
+
+"You angel!--to come and meet me!"
+
+"I'm not quite sure that I did come to meet you, in the strict sense.
+I'd nothing to do; I've always a feeling that the queerest lot of
+people come by this train, the oddest sort of week-enders--didn't you
+notice how the platform reeked of perfume?--so that its arrival's
+generally worth seeing. Besides, between ourselves, I'd a kind of
+notion that Tom might come by it. If he had I should have ignored you
+utterly, and should have explained that something within told me he
+was coming, and that was why I was here. Wouldn't he have been
+enraptured?"
+
+As he listened--and, in his observant way, took in the details of her
+appearance--Rodney was conscious, not for the first time, of how
+beneficent Providence had been in making girls in such variety.
+Stella, emblematic of the domestic virtues; Gladys, for physical
+pleasure; Mary, suggestive of the arch in the sky, which, though a man
+may walk for many days, he shall never find the end of. To his
+thinking she was as many-tinted as a rainbow; as beautiful, as
+elusive. He doubted if the average man were her husband whether he
+would have any but the dimmest comprehension of her at the finish; she
+had a knack of surprising even him. He had known her a good long time,
+yet he admitted to himself that in many respects she was still wholly
+beyond his comprehension, and he prided himself, not without reason,
+on his gift for understanding persons of the opposite sex.
+
+They went down towards the Hove lawns in a fly, and were still in
+Queen's Road when she said:
+
+"So you've done it at last."
+
+He turned towards her as if a trifle startled.
+
+"Done what?"
+
+"Asked Stella to be your wife."
+
+"How on earth do you know that?"
+
+"My simple-minded babe, aren't I the very dearest friend Stella has in
+the world? And didn't she, directly you left her yesterday afternoon,
+send me a telegram conveying the news? Do you think she would keep it
+a moment longer than she could help from me, especially as she is
+perfectly well aware that I've been on tip-toe for it for goodness
+alone knows how long? And aren't I expecting a letter of at least half
+a dozen pages to-morrow morning to tell me all about it? I wired my
+congratulations to her at once, and I almost wired them to you; then I
+thought I'd keep them till you came this morning. My congratulations,
+Rodney, dear."
+
+He was more taken aback than he would have cared to own. What an idiot
+he had been! Had he had his senses about him he would have given
+Stella to understand that the new relationship between them must be
+kept private till it suited him to make it public. That she should
+have telegraphed to Mary the moment he had left her! Could anything be
+more awkward? If to Mary, why not to others? To her mother, her
+father, her brother, her cousins, and her aunts; and she had crowds of
+dearest friends. Possibly by now the news was known to fifty people;
+they would spread it over the face of the land. Had he foreseen such a
+state of things he would have torn his tongue out rather than have
+said what he did in Regent's Park. Imbecile that he was; he had
+forgotten altogether that that was just the tale a girl of a sort
+loves to tell. Had he had his wits about him he might have known that
+she would be all eagerness to proclaim her happiness to her friends.
+To have had a private understanding with Stella might have been fun.
+He might have lied to her; played the traitor; done as he pleased--it
+would not have mattered if her heart was broken so long as she
+suffered in silence. But the affair assumed quite a different
+complexion if her confounded relations were to have their parts in it.
+He would have to endure all kinds of talkee-talkee from her mother.
+That oaf Tom might want to thrust his blundering foot into what was no
+concern of his. Worst of all, there was her father. Rodney was quite
+certain that he would want to regularise the position at once; that he
+himself would be helpless in his hands. Mr. Austin would require a
+clear statement of his intentions; having got it, he would see that it
+was adhered to. Being opposed to long engagements, he would want to
+fix the wedding day--and he would fix it. Rodney was uncomfortably
+conscious that he had made such a conspicuous ass of himself that,
+being delivered into her father's strong hands, almost before he knew
+it he might find himself the husband of Stella Austin.
+
+He shuddered at the thought--a fact which was observed by the young
+lady at his side.
+
+"Whatever is the matter? You shook the fly! You haven't thanked me for
+my congratulations, nor do you seem so elated as I expected. You know
+I'm not sure that it was quite nice of you to propose to another girl
+on the very day before the one on which you knew you were coming down
+to me. For all you could tell, I was expecting you to propose to me."
+
+"If I'd only thought there was the slightest chance, wouldn't I have
+loved to."
+
+"I suppose for the sake of practice."
+
+"Well--there are girls with whom one would like to practice
+love-making."
+
+"That's a nice thing to say, and you an engaged man of less than
+four-and-twenty hours' standing. There's a taximeter--stop him! Pay
+the driver of this silly old cab and let's get into the taxi."
+
+The transfer was effected, the driver of the "silly old cab"
+expressing himself on the subject with some frankness. When they were
+in the taxi the lady set forth the idea which had been in her mind.
+
+"I don't want to go on to the horrid lawns and see the stupid people
+in their ugly dresses; I can't take you to aunt's house, because, as
+you know, she's away, and I don't want the servants to talk; I don't
+want to lunch at either of the hotels, because I hate them all; I do
+want to go where we can be all by ourselves, so I suggest the Devil's
+Dyke. This taxi will romp up; it's the most vulgar place I know, so we
+go where we please and do as we choose--everybody does up there."
+
+So it was the Devil's Dyke. The taxi did "romp up." They had lunch at
+the hotel, and afterwards went out on to the downs, Rodney carrying a
+rug which he had borrowed from the hotel over his arm. They had not to
+go far over the slopes before they had left the few people who were up
+there behind, and were as much alone as if they had the world to
+themselves. Rodney spread the rug on the grass at the bottom of one of
+those little hollows shaped like cups which are to be found
+thereabouts by those who seek. On it they reclined; the gentleman lit
+a cigar, the lady a cigarette. They were as much at home with each
+other as either could desire. Their conversation was frankness itself.
+
+"When I feel like liking it," observed the lady, "this is just the
+sort of thing I do like. You're engaged, and I'm engaged, so we ought
+to be nice to each other. Do you mind my kissing you?"
+
+"Not a bit."
+
+She leaned over and kissed him on the lips, he removing his cigar to
+enable her to do it. Then she blew her cigarette smoke in his face and
+laughed. He said nothing; he was thinking that there was a good deal
+to be said for being on such terms with three nice girls. After all,
+there might be something in the Mohammedan's idea of paradise. She was
+silent for a moment; then inquired:
+
+"Why did you ask Stella after all? Because you knew she'd like you
+to?"
+
+He considered his reply.
+
+"No; not altogether. Of course, at the beginning I never meant to,
+then all of a sudden I felt as if I had to. I had a sort of feeling
+that it would be such fun."
+
+"And was it fun?"
+
+"Distinctly; I wouldn't mind going through it all over again."
+
+"Wouldn't you? Now you'll have to marry her."
+
+"Shall I?"
+
+"Don't you want to marry her?"
+
+"I do not."
+
+"That's unfortunate, because you certainly will have to."
+
+"We'll see."
+
+"Stella'll see--or, rather, her family will. If it were any other but
+the Austin family I should have said that a person of your eel-like
+slipperiness----"
+
+"Thank you."
+
+"Might have wriggled away; but if you wriggle away it will be out of
+the frying-pan into the fire. For ever so long the family has been
+expecting you to ask Stella to marry you; you've fostered the
+expectation, and now that you have asked her, if you try to sneak out
+of your engagement, Mr. Austin will make things so uncomfortable that
+you'll find it easier to make Stella Mrs. E."
+
+"And do you want to marry Tom?"
+
+"I do not. All the same, I expect I shall."
+
+"Why? If you don't want to?"
+
+Miss Carmichael sent a cloud of smoke up into the air.
+
+"A girl's position is so different from a man's. I must marry someone,
+and, so far as I can see, it may as well be Tom."
+
+"Why must you marry someone?"
+
+"Don't be absurd! Can you conceive me as a spinster? Rather than be an
+old maid I'd--marry you; I can't say anything stronger."
+
+"You've a friendly way of paying compliments."
+
+"My dear young fellow; as a--chum, when I'm in the mood, you're
+ripping, simply ripping; but as a husband--good Lord, deliver us! If
+Stella understood you only a quarter as well as I do she'd be only too
+glad to let you go the very first moment you showed the faintest
+inclination to bolt."
+
+"And, pray, what sort of wife do you think you'll make?"
+
+Again a pause, while more cigarette smoke went into the air.
+
+"Depends on the man."
+
+"I presume to what extent you can fool him."
+
+"I can imagine a man to whom I would be all that a wife could be, the
+whole happiness of his whole life."
+
+"I can't."
+
+"That's because you don't understand me as well as I do you."
+
+"What sort of wife do you think that you'll make Tom?"
+
+"Oh, he'll be content."
+
+"Poor devil!"
+
+"I'm not so sure; it's a good thing to be content. Each time I put my
+arms about his neck he'll forgive me everything."
+
+"So far as I gather, the difference between me as a husband and you as
+a wife consists in this: that while I'm going to be found out, you're
+not. I don't see why you should be so sure of the immunity you refuse
+to me."
+
+"I admit that in this world one never can be sure of anything. I quite
+credit you with as much capacity to throw dust in a woman's eyes as I
+have to throw dust in a man's. Still, there is a difference between us
+of which I'm conscious, though just now I'm too lazy to attempt an
+exact definition. I really can't see why you object to Stella; she'll
+make you a good wife."
+
+"Hang your good wives!"
+
+"My child! Do you want a bad one? You should have no difficulty in
+being suited."
+
+"Is a sinner likely to be happy if mated to a saint?"
+
+"Would he be happier if mated to another sinner? In that case you
+might do well to marry me--which I doubt."
+
+"I don't. I'm disposed to think that ours would be an ideal union."
+
+"I wonder."
+
+"Neither would expect the other to be perfect; each would allow the
+other a wider range of liberty for purely selfish reasons."
+
+"I say, wouldn't it be rather a joke if you were to throw over Stella
+and I were to throw over Tom and we were to marry each other?"
+
+"I'd do it like a shot if it weren't for one drawback--that we both of
+us are penniless."
+
+"That is a nuisance, since we are both of us so fond of what money
+stands for. If you had five thousand a year perhaps I might marry you
+after all."
+
+"I'm sure you would."
+
+"Pray why are you sure? You've a conceit!"
+
+"I am sure."
+
+"If--I say if--I were to marry you, would you give me a good time?"
+
+"The very best--a time after your own heart."
+
+"Would you? Lots of frocks?"
+
+"All the frocks your soul desired."
+
+"Everything I wanted?"
+
+"That's a tall order. I'm only human."
+
+"That certainly is true. I shouldn't be surprised if you were more
+generous even than Tom."
+
+"I don't call that sort of thing generosity. A man gives things to a
+woman he cares for because he has a lively sense of favours to come."
+
+"That's candid. You've given me one or two trifles already. Has that
+been with a lively sense of favours to come?"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+"You wretch! Would you care for me a little?"
+
+"I care for you more than a little now, as you are perfectly well
+aware."
+
+She turned and whispered something in his ear. He smiled, but kept
+silent. Presently she said aloud:
+
+"It would be rather a joke if we were to marry. Now that the idea's
+got into my head I can't get it out again. It makes little thrills go
+all over me--dear little thrills. I hope that if ever you do marry me
+it will be before I have had to resort to any of women's aids to
+beauty. I should like you to have me just as I am, while I am really
+at my best and while I can still bear the most searching
+investigation. My complexion's my own; I use no powder, rouge, or
+pencil. I haven't a false tooth in my head or even a stopped one. I've
+only a weeny pad on the top of my head, which is rendered absolutely
+necessary by the present style of hairdressing--everything about me's
+true."
+
+"Outside."
+
+"Sir! I dare say we shouldn't make such a very bad pair. Would
+you--like to marry me?"
+
+"Given an assured position, I would marry you."
+
+"Well, then, I'll tell you what we might do. You might marry Stella,
+and--dispose of her with some nice painless thing like chloral; and I
+might marry Tom, and--delicately dispose of him. Then we should both
+of us have an assured position, and--we could marry."
+
+"There's more in the idea than meets the eye."
+
+She threw the fag-end of her cigarette away from her and laughed.
+
+"You're simply ripping!" she exclaimed.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VIII
+
+              BY THE 9.10; THE FIRST PART OF THE JOURNEY
+
+
+Rodney Elmore returned by the 9.10 to town. He had meant to travel by
+the Pullman, but as he entered the station the train was drawing clear
+of the platform. Being informed that another express was starting in
+ten minutes, he had to be content with that. Beyond doubt the Pullman
+had been crowded; as he found himself the sole occupant of a
+first-class carriage, he was inclined to think that he had not lost
+by the exchange. He was in a mood for privacy. Events had followed
+each other so quickly; he had so many things to consider that he was
+glad of an opportunity for a little solitary self-communion. He was
+not pleased, therefore, when, just as the signal had been given to
+start, someone came rushing along the platform, the door was thrown
+open by an officious guard, and a passenger was hoisted into his
+compartment while the train was already in motion; nor was his
+pleasure enhanced by the discovery that the intruder was his uncle,
+Graham Patterson. In such disorder had Mr. Patterson been thrown that
+it was some seconds before he even realised that he had a companion.
+Uncovering, he wiped first his brow, then the lining of his hat. He
+panted so for breath that his critical nephew said to himself that
+if he had run a little further, or even a little faster, he might
+have panted in vain; he had never seen a man in such difficulty with
+his breathing apparatus. His face was purple, his eyes seemed to be
+bulging out of their sockets.
+
+The train had passed Preston Park station before Mr. Patterson had
+sufficiently recovered himself to become alive to the fact that he was
+not alone. But that he still did not recognise his companion his words
+showed.
+
+"I'm not exactly--of the build--to--run after trains."
+
+The moment he spoke Rodney became aware that Mr. Patterson had been
+drinking. Not enough, perhaps, to affect his speech--the hyphenated
+form of the remark he had just made was owing to the trouble he still
+had to breathe--but sufficient to place him at the point which divides
+the drunk from the sober. Elmore was still; possibly because he was
+unwilling to spoil what he felt was the grim humour of the situation.
+His silence apparently struck the other as odd. Presently Mr.
+Patterson glanced round as if to learn what manner of person this was
+who offered no comment on his observation. Then he perceived who his
+companion was.
+
+The discovery seemed to fill him with amazement which approached to
+stupefaction. His jaw dropped, his eyes bulged still farther out of
+his head, his face assumed a darker shade of purple; he looked like a
+man who was on the verge of a fit. His nephew felt that he had never
+seen him present so unprepossessing a spectacle. His surprise was so
+great that an appreciable space of time passed before he could find
+words to give it expression. Then they were of a lurid kind.
+
+"By gad!--it's you! Well, I'm damned!"
+
+"I'm sorry, sir, to hear it."
+
+The retort was so obvious that it had slipped from Rodney's lips
+almost before he was aware. Its effect on Mr. Patterson was so great
+that for some moments his nephew was convinced that that apoplectic
+fit which he had so often seen threatening was hideously close. Mr.
+Patterson himself seemed conscious of the risk he ran. He made a
+perceptible effort to regain self-control--a painful one it evidently
+was. He put his finger to his collar as if to loosen it; one could see
+that his hand shook, his lips trembled, beads of sweat stood on his
+brow. Probably more than a minute had passed before he felt himself in
+a condition to speak again. Still his voice was a little hoarse, his
+utterance not quite clear.
+
+"My lad, if I could have got at you this morning I should have killed
+you."
+
+"Should you, indeed, sir. Pray why?"
+
+The young man had been observing his senior's plight with a sense, not
+only of amusement, but of positive relish. He was conscious that a
+spirit of malice had entered into him. He was prepared to return
+insolence with insolence. This bloated relative of his should this
+time not find him disposed to cringe.
+
+Still with his finger to his neck, as if he would have liked to loosen
+his collar, Mr. Patterson went on, yet a little huskily:
+
+"Luckily I didn't get at you, because I'll do worse than kill you,
+now."
+
+"I thank you for your kind intentions, sir. You have not yet told me
+what I have done to deserve them."
+
+"You've been getting at that girl of mine again."
+
+"You use unpleasant phrases, sir. I'm afraid you have been drinking."
+
+"You young swine! In spite of what I told you, last night you took her
+out with you again to dinner."
+
+"Premising that I don't see why you should so resent my showing little
+courtesies to members of your family, may I ask on what grounds your
+statement is based?"
+
+"You young word-twister! You've your father's tongue. Do you deny it?"
+
+"That I've my father's tongue?"
+
+"That you took my girl to dinner?"
+
+"It's for you to prove; not for me to disprove."
+
+"A man came to me on the front this morning and said that he saw my
+daughter dining last night in Jermyn Street with a young man. He
+described the fellow; from his description I knew that it was you. If
+I could have got at you then and there I'd have broken my stick across
+your back! I'd have--I'd have---- Are you going to tell a lie, and say
+it wasn't you?"
+
+"It was."
+
+"It was?"
+
+"It was. Why not? We had a most agreeable evening, much more
+agreeable, perhaps, than you have any notion of. Possibly, if you ask
+Gladys, she herself will tell you so."
+
+"You--you----!"
+
+"Steady--go slow! If you don't take care you'll have a fit--you know
+you have been drinking."
+
+Possibly because he had given way to such a sudden access of rage, Mr.
+Patterson again went through all his former disagreeable physical
+experiences, while his nephew smiled. He sat inarticulate and gasping,
+incapable alike of speech or movement. When, after a prolonged
+interval, the faculty of speech returned, his voice had grown huskier
+than ever; he spoke slowly, with a pause between each word.
+
+"All right, my lad--laugh, but you won't laugh last. You're not going
+to put me in the cart, as your swindler of a father did; I'm going to
+put you there. I warned you what would be the result of your
+attempting to have any more traffic with my girl, so you've yourself
+to thank for whatever happens."
+
+He stopped, as if he found a difficulty in saying much at once. When
+he continued, while his tones were a little clearer, they were more
+bitter.
+
+"Directly I get home I'm going to tell my girl what kind of man you
+are, and what kind of man your delectable father was. When she knows,
+I'll wager you a trifle that she never willingly speaks to you again;
+she'll despise herself for ever having spoken to you at all; she'll
+treat you in the future as if you had never been. She has her faults,
+but she resembles her father on one point--she has no use for a thief,
+and especially for a thief who is the son of a thief."
+
+Another pause; this time, apparently, not so much for the sake of
+gaining breath as to enable his words to have their full effect on the
+smiling young man at the other end of the carriage. If he looked for
+some sign of their having touched him on a sensitive spot, he found
+none; the young man continued to smile. Possibly because he suspected
+that it might be the other's intention to irritate, he kept himself
+the more in hand. Leaning back in his seat, laying his parti-coloured
+silk handkerchief across his knee, for the first time he wore an
+appearance of ease, and he also began to smile.
+
+"However, since I'm a cautious man, and you never can be certain what
+trick a blackguard will play upon a girl, I'll make assurance doubly
+sure; I'll take steps which will render it impossible for you to play
+a trick on my girl. The first thing to-morrow morning I'll take out a
+warrant for your arrest as a forger and a thief, and I'll give
+instructions to have it executed at once; so, you see, I'm better than
+my word, as I generally am. I warned you that if you dared to force
+yourself upon my girl again I'd have you gaoled, and I will. But I
+didn't undertake to give you a chance to show the police a clean pair
+of heels; yet I'm giving you one. If, between this and to-morrow
+morning--say, at ten--you can make yourself scarce, you can. But
+you'll have to be spry, because I give you my word that if the police
+do let the scent go cold it won't be for want of my urging them after
+you. You may run to earth if you like, but they'll dig you out. Don't
+you flatter yourself on your dodging powers; they'll get the handcuffs
+on your wrists."
+
+Picking up his handkerchief with his finger-tips, Mr. Patterson let it
+fall again across his knee, smiling broadly as if in the enjoyment of
+a joke.
+
+"And don't you flatter yourself that you'll come under the First
+Offenders Act--you won't, I'll take care of that. I've a list locked
+up in a drawer at the office the details of which, when they are
+produced in court, will surprise you. No jury will recommend you to
+mercy after hearing that, and no judge will listen to them if they do.
+You'll be sentenced to a long term of imprisonment as sure as you are
+sitting there. You'll be branded as a felon for the rest of your life.
+I'll teach you, you thief, to try to associate as an equal with that
+girl of mine."
+
+Again he picked up his handkerchief; on this occasion to wipe his
+lips. But this time he did not return it to his knee; he continued to
+hold it in his hand--indeed, he waved it affably towards Elmore.
+
+"I owed your father one--such a one! But he never gave me a chance of
+paying him. Now I owe you one--also such a one--and I'll pay you both
+together--by gad, I will! Oh, you may keep on smiling, you brassbound
+blackguard; I hope you'll find the reality as amusing as you seem to
+find the prospect. When you feel a policeman's hand upon your shoulder
+and handcuffs on your wrists, then you'll stop smiling. Make no
+mistake; for you there's only one way of escape, and that's your
+father's--suicide."
+
+Stopping, Mr. Patterson thrust his handkerchief into the outer
+breast-pocket of his coat in such a fashion that the hem protruded.
+There was silence, broken only by the rushing noise made by the train.
+All at once Rodney Elmore, rising, moved along the carriage and placed
+himself on the seat immediately in front of his uncle.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IX
+
+                              THE SECOND
+
+
+Mr. Patterson glared at his nephew as if he had been guilty of a gross
+liberty in placing himself where he had done--indeed, he said as much.
+
+"Go back to your own end of the carriage at once, you young scoundrel.
+How dare you come so close to me? Isn't it sufficient contamination to
+have to breathe the air of the same compartment, without being
+polluted by your immediate neighbourhood?"
+
+Rodney was not at all abashed, nor did he show any sign of an
+intention to return whence he came. On the contrary, leaning a little
+forward, he smiled at his uncle blandly.
+
+"Softly, sir, softly! If you allow yourself to become excited you may
+do yourself a mischief--excitement is the worst possible thing for
+you."
+
+"None of your insolence, you young hound; don't you think I'll allow
+you to be insolent to me! Are you going back to the other end of the
+carriage?"
+
+"No, sir; I am not."
+
+"Then----"
+
+Mr. Patterson made as if to move, then checked himself. Rodney asked:
+
+"What were you going to do?"
+
+"If you don't go back to the other end of the carriage at once I'll
+pull the communication cord and stop the train."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"I'll give you into custody before the whole trainful of passengers."
+
+"Into whose custody?"
+
+"The guard will take charge of you till we get to a station; he won't
+let you go till he has seen you safe in the hands of a policeman. You
+won't have a chance of running; you'll sleep in gaol tonight. Are you
+going back to your own seat?"
+
+"I propose to remain where I am."
+
+"Then I'll stop the train!"
+
+He made as if to do as he said, but Rodney, rising first, laid his
+hand upon his shoulder to such effect that he found himself unable to
+move. Indignation brought back the purple to Mr. Patterson's face.
+
+"You dare to touch me? You infernal young villain--take away your
+hand!"
+
+"I don't intend to allow you to touch the communication cord."
+
+"You don't intend! We'll see about that."
+
+They did see, on the instant. The black knob of the alarm bell was
+over the centre seat in front of Mr. Patterson. Putting out his
+strength, evading Rodney's grip, he gained his feet. Elmore took him
+by the shoulders with both his hands. There was a scuffle--sharp, but
+brief. For a moment it looked as if the elder man might be a match for
+the younger, but for a moment only. On a sudden Mr. Patterson
+collapsed on to his seat as if the stiffening had gone all out of him
+and left him but a mass of boneless pulp. He could only gasp out
+words.
+
+"You shall smart for this!"
+
+"If you're not very careful, sir, you'll smart first--my dear uncle."
+
+"Don't you call me your dear uncle."
+
+"My dear uncle."
+
+"Damn you, you----"
+
+A flood of vituperation poured from the elder man's lips, which, when
+he had finished, left him an even darker shade of purple. Rodney never
+ceased to smile. So soon as the flood had stopped he repeated the
+endearing form of address.
+
+"My dear uncle"--Mr. Patterson was panting, for the moment he was
+speechless--"turn and turn about's fair play, and fair play's a jewel.
+You've had your say, now I'm going to have mine--you'll find mine as
+interesting as I found yours. To begin with, I'm going to ask you one
+or two questions."
+
+"I'll answer no questions of yours."
+
+"Oh, yes, you will, when you find what they are. In the first place,
+am I to understand that you are really serious--weigh your words, my
+dear uncle!--in saying that you'd tell Gladys--what you said you'd
+tell her?"
+
+"So soon as I get home I'll tell her everything--everything--about
+you, and your rascally father, too."
+
+"Will you?"
+
+"I will--as sure as you are living!"
+
+"So surely as that? And are you prepared to take your oath that you'll
+take out that warrant you were speaking of, or--was that intended for
+a jest?"
+
+"Oath! I'll take no oath to you--you Nature's gaol-bird! But of this I
+assure you, you'll sleep in a prison cell to-night, and many and many
+another night to come."
+
+Mr. Patterson, dragging the silk handkerchief from his breast pocket,
+used it to wipe away the perspiration which again bedewed his brow.
+
+"Shall I?"
+
+"You will."
+
+"Oh, no, I won't; nor will you tell Gladys those unkind things about
+me and my father."
+
+"Who the devil's going to stop me?"
+
+"I'm the devil who's going to stop you."
+
+Rodney was leaning a little forward. His uncle stopped in the process
+of wiping his brow to stare at him, as if there were something in his
+manner which struck him as peculiar. About the young gentleman's lips
+was the same easy, unconcerned smile which had been there all the
+time; there was a smile also in his eyes--it was, apparently, this
+latter which gave him the odd expression which had struck his uncle.
+Mr. Patterson glanced about him as if in search of something he would
+have liked to find. Rodney sat perfectly still. As he put a query to
+him his uncle's pursy lips showed a tendency to twitch.
+
+"How are you going to stop me?"
+
+"Can't you guess how I am going to stop you?"
+
+"I can do nothing of the kind. You can't stop me, or anyone. I am
+going to do my duty to my daughter and to society, and nothing can
+stop me."
+
+"You know better than that. From something which has just come upon
+your face I can see that already you know better."
+
+Mr. Patterson gave what he doubtless meant to be a spring towards the
+alarm bell opposite; but, for reasons which were beyond his control,
+his movements were slower than they should have been--the younger man
+was much too quick for him. Gripping him again by both his shoulders,
+exerting greater strength than on the first occasion, he forced him
+back upon his seat with a degree of violence which seemed to drive the
+sense half out of him. As Rodney, remaining on his feet, stood
+towering above him, one perceived more clearly that his was the build
+of the athlete, and how great were the probabilities, if they came to
+grips, that the big man would be helpless in his hands. He addressed
+his uncle as an elder person might have spoken to a mutinous child.
+
+"My dearest uncle--you really must permit me to lay stress upon your
+avuncular relationship on what will probably be my last chance of
+doing so--you are not going to pull the alarm bell, you are not going
+to stop the train. You have no more chance of doing either than you
+have of flying to the moon, so get that into your drink-sodden brain.
+Nor are you going to libel me to Gladys, nor commit me to the mercy of
+a ruthless police. Presently you will see that as clearly as I do
+now."
+
+Rodney resumed his seat, still keeping his glance fixed on his uncle,
+in whose demeanour a change seemed to have taken place which was both
+mental and physical. Possibly his nephew had used more violence than
+he supposed. The vigour had gone all out of him; inert, he stared at
+Rodney with bloodshot eyes, as if drink had taken sudden effect and
+bemused his brain. The young man's smile became more pronounced, as if
+he found the singularity of the other's appearance amusing. The tone
+of his voice, when he spoke, was genial and pleasant.
+
+"My dear uncle, if you, the only relative I have in the world, had
+treated me, when first I entered your office, as you might have been
+expected to do, I might have become an affectionate and worthy
+nephew."
+
+"Not you. You started robbing me before you'd been in the place a
+week."
+
+"Is that so? So soon as that? Perhaps you have never known what it is
+to be in want of ready cash."
+
+"When I was eighteen I was keeping myself on fifty pounds a year, for
+which I was working anything up to sixteen hours a day."
+
+"Indeed! It might have been better if that period of your life had
+lasted longer. You wouldn't have been in the rotten condition you
+are."
+
+"What's the matter with my condition? I never had a day's illness in
+my life."
+
+"My dear uncle, if you weren't in a rotten condition you'd have rung
+that alarm bell before this, wouldn't you? But, although it's only
+within a foot or two, you'll never ring it--never, because you are
+rotten."
+
+Mr. Patterson glanced towards the black knob. Rodney shook his head.
+
+"It's no good, uncle. You won't be able to get at it--you know that.
+What an illustration you are of the desirability of keeping oneself
+fit! It seems that from the first you kept a sharper eye on me than I
+suspected."
+
+"I'm not the fool you took me for."
+
+"Aren't you? That remains to be seen. Do you think that it was the
+part of wisdom to threaten me as you have been doing when you and I
+were alone together in a compartment of a railway train which doesn't
+stop, at least, till it gets to Croydon?"
+
+"I've not been threatening you; I wouldn't condescend. I've only been
+telling you what you may expect."
+
+"That's all; and by doing so you've made the issue a simple one. If
+you reach town alive, to all intents I shall be dead; whereas, if you
+reach town dead, I--shall be on velvet, because you see, my dear
+uncle, I'm Gladys' lover; and she loves me, if possible, even more
+than I do her. I've proofs of it. Since she is your only child, when
+you are dead everything you have will be hers, which is tantamount to
+saying that it will be mine, which is just what I should like. So you
+will at once perceive how--from every point of view--very much to my
+advantage it would be that you should be dead."
+
+"You young hell-hound! Unfortunately for you, I'm not dead, and I'm
+not likely to die."
+
+"Oh, yes, you are, very likely--unfortunately for you. You told me
+that my father only found one way to escape trouble--suicide. You
+hinted in your most affectionate manner that some time, in my turn, I
+might only find one way. Your kindly hint made such an impression on
+me that I actually made preparations, so that I might never be at a
+loss if ever that time should come. Those preparations are contained
+in this dainty little box."
+
+Rodney took from his waistcoat pocket what might have passed as a
+silver needle-case or receptacle for pins. He held it out in front of
+his uncle, who was as much moved by the sight of it as if it had been
+some object of horror.
+
+"You--you're not going to make away with yourself before my eyes?
+You--you don't suppose I'll let you do it?"
+
+"How would you propose to stop me?"
+
+Again Mr. Patterson mopped his brow with his silk handkerchief of many
+colours. He presented a pitiable spectacle. His lips twitched, his
+hand trembled, and his whole huge frame seemed to shiver like a mass
+of jelly. His voice was broken and husky, he stammered in his speech.
+
+"Elmore, you--you're quite right; I'm--I'm not very well. I--I've had
+a great deal to put up with lately, and it's unhinged me. Give me that
+infernal thing you've got there--I don't know what is in it, or if
+you're playing a trick with me, but--you give it me."
+
+"I'm going to--shortly."
+
+The young man's airy self-possession was in almost painful contrast to
+the elder's agitation. He glanced at his watch, holding the slender,
+round case between the finger and thumb of his other hand.
+
+"Nearly half-past nine. What was that station we passed? Was it
+Hayward's Heath? I fancy we do stop at Croydon, so that there's not
+much time to spare. I'm going to act on your suggestion, uncle--with a
+difference. I am not going to commit suicide, but you are!"
+
+"I am?--you young fool!--what do you mean?"
+
+"In fact, you practically have committed suicide already."
+
+"The man's mad."
+
+"Possibly--but not on this particular point. When you told me in such
+very coarse language what I might expect, you practically committed
+suicide, as--I'm about to prove. You remember the case of the eminent
+financier who, within five minutes of being sentenced to a long term
+of penal servitude, was in a room which was immediately outside the
+court in which he had received his sentence, from which he was
+instantly to be haled to gaol, under the very noses of his warders
+slipped something between his lips and--escaped. You will probably
+remember the case better than I do, since at the time I was only a
+boy; yet I have studied it to such purpose that within this pretty
+little box are--shall we call them tabloids?--which are in all
+essentials identical with the one he swallowed. They kill as by a
+flash of lightning. Whoever has one of these within his reach no man
+shall stay him from--escaping. You are going to swallow one of these
+tabloids, uncle--this one."
+
+Unscrewing the top of his silver box, Rodney removed the cap, and took
+from it what looked like a small peppermint lozenge, holding it up
+between his finger and thumb.
+
+"You see, uncle--this one; as it were, death reduced to its lowest
+possible denomination."
+
+At that moment Rodney seemed to be exercising over his uncle some of
+the fabulous qualities attributed to the serpent. Beyond doubt Mr.
+Patterson recognised with sufficient vividness that this young man in
+front of him was much more dangerous than he had supposed; that he had
+underrated his capacity for evil; that he might as well have shut
+himself in with a tiger as with his sister's son. But the recognition
+came too late. The very force of it had the effect of destroying his
+few remaining powers of volition. In face of the deadly purpose with
+which he perceived that his nephew was filled, he was as one
+paralysed. He could only grow purpler and purpler, and splutter.
+
+"Don't--don't you play any of your infernal tricks on me, you--you
+villain! Curse it, why can't I get at that bell!" He made as if to
+rise, but, seemingly, was as incapable of movement as if he had been
+glued to his seat. As if conscious that his peril was imminent, he
+raised his voice to a raucous scream.
+
+"Don't--don't you dare to lay your hands on me! Don't--don't you dare
+to touch me! Help!"
+
+As the uncle opened his mouth to cry for aid the nephew caught him by
+the throat and slipped between his lips the tiny white lozenge which
+he had taken from the silver box. Then he struck up his jaw with a
+click and held it shut, so that he could not put it out again. Forcing
+back his head, he gripped him tight. His uncle was seized with a
+convulsion which seemed to Rodney as if it must have shaken the
+carriage. Almost at the same instant it was as if all vitality had
+gone clean out of him. The nephew was gripping a limp corpse.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER X
+
+                        IN THE CARRIAGE--ALONE
+
+
+Graham Patterson, in the agony of that last convulsion, had nearly
+slipped off the seat, so that, with a very little, he would be on the
+floor. His nephew, who hitherto had not for a moment lost his presence
+of mind, and who kept it then, was at a loss. Would such an attitude
+be recognised as proper for a suicide? Would, that is, a doctor--any
+doctor--be prepared to assert that a man who had killed himself with
+potassium cyanide might, under the circumstances, quite conceivably
+die in such an attitude, or assume it after death? To Rodney's
+supernaturally keen vision there were trifles about his uncle's
+appearance which scarcely marked this as inevitably a case of suicide.
+The collar was a little crumpled; the tie a little disarranged; he
+even fancied that there were prints of his fingers on the skin of
+the throat. He was conscious that he had gripped him with great
+force--perhaps a little clumsily; he certainly ought to have avoided
+contact with the collar and the tie, but no doubt the prints would
+wear off. Indeed, as he bent closer he was not sure that they did not
+exist only in his imagination; the light was not good; he could not
+be certain. With dexterous fingers he smoothed the collar, he
+rearranged the tie--so deftly that he felt convinced that no one
+would notice that anything had been wrong with him. He raised the
+body a little, so that it was in what seemed to him to be a more
+natural position, on the edge of the seat; he felt that it would
+look better. He was surprised to find how heavy his uncle was--it
+required quite an effort on his part to lift him.
+
+He turned the contents of the silver box on to his hand. There were
+seven tiny lozenges. He returned three to the box, and laid it on the
+seat; the other four he placed beside it. Taking an envelope out of an
+inner pocket of his jacket, he tore off a corner. In it he placed the
+four tabloids, carefully folded it, and put it in his waistcoat
+pocket. Then he balanced the cap of the box on the arm of the seat
+beside his uncle; the box itself he placed between the fingers of his
+uncle's left hand, with--in it--the other three tabloids. So tightly
+were the fingers clenched that Rodney had to use force to open them
+sufficiently to enable him to insert the box. Then, seating himself
+opposite, he looked his uncle carefully over with an artist's eye for
+detail. In his present attitude, with that open box with its tell-tale
+contents held tightly between his stiffened fingers, it seemed to
+Rodney that a coroner would be bound to instruct his jury that suicide
+was the only possible explanation of Graham Patterson's death. Having
+satisfied himself on which point, he withdrew to the opposite end of
+the carriage, being, in spite of himself, conscious of a feeling that
+the dead man's too immediate neighbourhood was not a thing to be
+desired.
+
+Seated in his original place, he took out his white cambric
+handkerchief, and with it delicately wiped his fingers, having an
+uncomfortable notion that something disagreeable had adhered to them
+which it would be better to remove. Then he set himself to consider
+the position. A great smoker of cigarettes, absent-mindedly and as a
+matter of course he took out his case, and was about to light one when
+it occurred to him that it might be a dangerous thing to do. It was
+not a smoking carriage; if, when the discovery was made, it smelt
+strongly of smoke--and nothing lingers like a cigarette--it might be
+shown that his uncle had not been smoking, and the question might
+arise--who had? He returned the case to his pocket. As he did so the
+train rushed past a signal-box. He remembered reading of the strange
+things which signalmen see in trains as they rushed past them. When
+his uncle was found, exhaustive inquiries would be set on foot. Quite
+conceivably some signalman had seen them struggling, or something
+which had piqued his curiosity as it had caught his eye. His uncle
+would be found alone. The signalman's story might suggest that at one
+period of the journey someone had been in the carriage with him. What
+had become of that someone? The mere question might start a hue and
+cry. Rodney recalled, with quite a little sense of shock, that his
+uncle had been partly pushed into the carriage by an official on the
+Brighton platform. Graham Patterson was a noticeable-looking person;
+he must have presented a striking spectacle as he had come hurrying
+along the platform. When discovery came about, the official would
+recollect the incident and recognise him beyond a doubt.
+
+Had he noticed that somebody was already in the carriage when he was
+thrusting the fat man in? Rodney was compelled to admit that the
+probabilities were that he had. So far as he himself was concerned,
+Rodney recalled the whole sequence of events. How he had rushed up to
+the ticket inspector just as the Pullman was moving; how the man,
+slamming the gate in his face, had informed him that another train was
+due to start in ten minutes. The young gentleman had a suspicion that
+the fellow had looked him up and down as he was explaining. There were
+others about who might also have looked him up and down. Rodney had an
+uneasy feeling that, in his way, he was perhaps as noticeable a figure
+as his uncle--so tall, so upright, so well groomed, so handsome, with
+something about his appearance which almost amounted to an air of
+distinction. He had walked a few paces to another platform, as
+directed; the man at the gate, in his turn, had looked him up and down
+as he clipped his ticket; he had strolled leisurely along the
+platform, which he had had almost entirely to himself; when he reached
+a carriage which he thought would suit him, he stood for a second or
+two at the open door--as he remembered, right in front of the official
+who, later, had helped his uncle in.
+
+He sat up very straight as that little fact came back to him. He
+remembered very well eyeing the man, whom, certainly, he would know
+again anywhere. No doubt the man had eyed him, and had his likeness in
+his mind's eye. The fellow had seen him enter the compartment and shut
+the door; a few minutes later he had opened the door again to admit
+his uncle, well knowing that he was already within. The accident might
+prove very awkward for the nephew later on; no one could have
+appreciated the possibilities of the position more clearly than he
+did.
+
+As he pondered the matter he was inclined to think that he had made a
+mistake in doing what he had done. Such a fuss is made about a thing
+of that sort that, in any event, one runs a risk. Had he had more time
+to appreciate exactly what would be the nature of the risk in his own
+case he might have--hesitated. If he had he would have been deposed
+from his cousin's good graces, and--to adopt her sire's rather
+melodramatic language--have been "branded as a felon," so that he
+would not have been much better off. Looking at it philosophically the
+result of what he had done was this: that whereas, if he had let his
+uncle have his own way, ruin was certain, as things were he had at
+least a fighting chance of postponing the evil day--perhaps to an
+indefinite period. More; in the meanwhile he could have a rattling
+good time. And he would have it. He smiled as he made himself that
+promise.
+
+All the same, though he smiled, he realised that if he proposed to
+have a good time he must not continue to take his ease where he
+was--with his uncle on the seat at the other end. If he seriously
+wished the world to take it for granted that Graham Patterson had
+committed suicide, he must not be found in the same compartment. That
+was sure. He had been told by someone, or had read somewhere, that
+every express train, though assumed to be "non-stopping," stopped at
+least once, because a signal was against it, or at least slowed down
+sufficiently to enable an agile passenger, with safety, to alight. So
+far that train had neither stopped nor slowed. His watch told him
+that it was about twenty to ten--ten minutes ago his uncle had been
+alive. It seemed longer ago than that. He had a fair knowledge of
+the line by daylight; it was different at night. Objects--even
+stations--were difficult to distinguish. He peered through the open
+window without thrusting out his head. They seemed to be running
+through open country, possibly on the top of the ballast. He could
+make out lights, though they were few and far between; they seemed to
+be passing a number of trees, with a big building beyond. They
+crashed through a station--it was Earlswood; they had just passed
+Earlswood Asylum. Immediately they would be on the new part of the
+line, which avoids the South-Eastern station at Redhill. There was no
+station between this and Purley. He might leave the train anywhere
+with comparative safety if it would only slow a little. To attempt to
+alight while it was moving at that rate through the darkness would be
+equivalent to committing suicide. At the best he could not hope to
+avoid serious injury. He must wait--till it slowed.
+
+The whistle on the engine sounded; the train began to slow. Instantly
+he was leaning forward, his fingers on the handle, which was inside
+the door. The train slowed still more; it entered a tunnel, slowing
+all the while; in the heart of the tunnel it stopped--dead. The gods
+were on his side. Yet not for an instant did he lose his presence of
+mind. The signal was against them--that was why they had stopped. Was
+it on the left or the right? On the signal side the guard would
+possibly have his head out of the carriage with an eye for it;
+possibly some of the passengers might be observing it also. It would
+be fatal to get out on that side; his door would be seen opening; he
+might be seen to alight; he would be jumping out of the frying-pan
+into the fire; all sorts of consequences might accrue. He looked out
+of his own window; there was no signal in front or behind. Then it was
+on the other side, on the left, against the wall of the tunnel. He
+looked on to the six-foot way. He could see the whole length of the
+train; not a sign of a head at any of the windows. He had already
+turned the handle, opening the door just wide enough he stepped on to
+the footboard, closed the door, and dropped on to the permanent way.
+He had left his uncle to continue his journey alone. Lest his
+upstanding figure might be visible to someone, he crouched as close as
+he could to the ground. The train began to move very slowly. The door
+of the compartment next to that which he had just left was opened, a
+figure came on to the footboard, closed the door, sprang on to the
+ballast while the train was already in motion. For a moment Rodney was
+the victim of a gruesome delusion; to him it was as if the door of his
+own compartment had been opened; as if Graham Patterson had alighted
+at his side. He pressed the tips of his fingers into his palms to keep
+himself from exclaiming.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XI
+
+                             THE STRANGER
+
+
+The train went slowly rumbling by; who looked out of the windows
+Rodney neither knew nor cared. He was conscious of the guard's van
+passing, then the train had gone. He could see the tail lights moving
+quicker and quicker through the darkness. He himself continued
+motionless. He had realised by now that it was not his uncle who had
+alighted; that it was the door of the next compartment which had been
+opened. He could not believe that his own movements had been observed.
+He doubted if they could have been seen by a person who had not
+actually got his head out at the moment--even by his next door
+neighbour. He was certain that no head had been out. The thing had
+been a coincidence--a strange one, but nothing more. Someone also had
+reasons for wishing to quit the train in an unusual manner; someone
+who was unaware that he was out already. The chances were that he had
+not been noticed; that, if he kept quite still, he would not be
+noticed. The stranger would blunder along without ever becoming
+cognisant of his near neighbourhood; whichever way the stranger went,
+he would go the other.
+
+Now that the train had left, it was very still in the tunnel; the air
+was close, full of smoke, which was bad both for the throat and the
+eyes. Something had dropped once or twice on Rodney's shoulder. He had
+heard that it was sometimes damp in tunnels; possibly it was moisture
+dropping from the brickwork overhead. He would have liked to move so
+as to avoid it, but was reluctant to make a sound--till the stranger
+had moved. He wondered what the stranger was doing; silence continued
+for what seemed to him to be a preternatural length of time. Possibly,
+less fortunate than himself, the stranger had been hurt in alighting,
+which explained the stillness. If that were so, his own position might
+be difficult. If he moved first the stranger might claim his help,
+might make a fuss if he refused it--such a fuss that the fact that he
+had left the train would be discovered.
+
+Still not a sound. Momentarily the situation was becoming more
+delicate. He could not remain crouched down like that for ever, with
+big drops of something falling on to his shoulder. What should he do?
+The question was answered for him.
+
+"Caught you!"
+
+The words were whispered close to his ear. He stood straight up
+suddenly, startled half out of his wits. His impulse was to
+fly--anywhere, anyhow. Then that wonderful presence of mind of his,
+which never left him long, came back; he realised that haste on his
+part might involve disaster. He stood bolt upright, quite still, with
+fists clenched, prepared for anything.
+
+Something came; fingers were laid upon his coat-sleeve. He showed no
+sign of resenting their coming, their touch was so soft that it hardly
+suggested danger. A voice came to him through the darkness, the one
+which had so startled him by whispering in his ear.
+
+"That was a capital idea of yours--capital."
+
+To Rodney's acute sense of hearing there seemed to be a curious
+quality in the voice; he was not sure if it belonged to a man or a
+woman. It came again.
+
+"Have you ever been in a tunnel before? I haven't."
+
+The last two words were spoken with a snigger which was certainly a
+man's, though he still felt that the voice itself might be either
+masculine or feminine. He had a fastidious taste in voices; apart from
+the circumstances under which he heard it, that one affected him
+unpleasantly. It continued, and his distaste grew.
+
+"Do you know that our getting out here in the tunnel has proved
+something which I have always held as an article of faith; that I have
+cat's eyes--positively? Isn't it droll? I can see you--not plainly,
+but sufficiently well. Now I dare say you can't see me at all!"
+
+Rodney could not; he did not believe that the stranger could see him.
+Darkness was about them like a wall.
+
+"Come!"
+
+He felt the fingers which had rested on his sleeve slipped under his
+arm.
+
+"I will guide you; let me turn you round. We will go this way, towards
+the signal. You see?--it is set at danger. Some people would say that
+we are in rather a dangerous position."
+
+Again that unpleasantly sounding snigger.
+
+"I hope you're not feeling nervous; you needn't. That signal is not
+far off, and when we reach it we are out in the open. I know exactly
+where we are; this is Redhill tunnel. Not only can I see in the dark,
+dimly, but still see, but I also have, in a curious degree, the bump
+of locality. With me it amounts almost to an additional sense. I
+always know where I am, even when I am in a strange place; in a place
+in which I have been before I have an incredible perception of my
+surroundings. For three years I lived quite close to this--in
+Earlswood Asylum, as a patient."
+
+Earlswood Asylum! Then the creature was a lunatic. That explained the
+singularity of his voice, of his manner, his proceedings. An idea came
+into Rodney's head. The creature was small; he felt, as he moved
+beside him with his hand under his arm, that he probably did not reach
+to his shoulder. It would be easy to leave him in the tunnel. Who
+cares what happens to a lunatic?
+
+"I shouldn't if I were you; it wouldn't pay."
+
+The words were so apposite that, despite himself, Rodney started. He
+had not spoken. Could the creature read what was passing through his
+brain?
+
+"There are times when I can read people's thoughts just as plainly
+as if they had spoken them out loud, even when I can't see their
+faces--really! Isn't it odd? Oh, I am quite gifted. My argument always
+has been that, in a general way, a lunatic is merely abnormal, nothing
+more. At intervals a cloud settles on my brain; I can see, I can
+feel it coming; then, for an indefinite period, I am on the lap
+of the gods. When it passes my senses are more acute than other
+people's--abnormally acute, I know it as a fact. Now you see, as I
+told you, we are out in the open--look! the stars are shining. Look
+back at the tunnel; isn't it a horror of blackness? Like the horror I
+know. If we scramble up that bank we shall probably find a gap in the
+hedge at the top; platelayers often do leave a gap in a hedge close
+to the wall of a tunnel that they may descend to the line. As I told
+you, here's our gap; now, over the fence, and the rest is easy
+sailing."
+
+It seemed to Rodney that since he had quitted the train something must
+have happened to him mentally; it was as if, all at once, he were
+playing a part in a dream. In silence, without offering the least
+remonstrance, he had suffered the stranger to pilot him out of the
+tunnel, up the steep bank beyond--to dominate him wholly. Now, except
+that they seemed to be standing in an open space of considerable size,
+he had not the dimmest notion of their whereabouts; but to the
+stranger it all seemed plain.
+
+"That big building on our right's an orphanage--St. Anne's; I believe
+we're on their ground. If we keep straight on to our left we shall
+come to the high road, from which it is only a few minutes to Redhill
+station, whence we shall continue our journey to town. Quite an
+interesting episode this has been, has it not? I am indebted to you
+for much entertainment. I have seldom had so much enjoyment in a
+train, Mr. Elmore."
+
+The creature knew his name! How? Who was he? What did it mean? Again
+he was conscious of an impulse to take him by the throat and--resolve
+the question in his own fashion. How came the creature to know his
+name? Although he had uttered no articulate sound, he had his answer.
+
+"The explanation is simple, explanations often are. I heard your uncle
+address you by your name in a most audible tone of voice just towards
+the close. Most people have no idea how thin the partition really is
+which divides one compartment from another. Do you know I have heard
+that in some instances it is made of papier-mache--fancy! You can
+always hear if a conversation is taking place in an adjoining
+compartment--it is surprising how much you can hear if you try,
+especially if your hearing is as good as mine is--that's another of my
+gifts. I had my ear glued to the partition most of the time. Of
+course, I could not hear everything--and I should very much have liked
+to see, but I gathered enough to enable me to form a general idea,
+particularly when you began to use violence towards your uncle and to
+hurl him back into his seat--it amounted to hurling. You see, I was
+his side. And, of course, when you both raised your voices I could
+hear a very great deal. I was not in the least surprised at the
+silence which followed. I understood--oh, I understood! At least, I
+think I understood. It was perfectly plain that only one person was
+left in the compartment who counted, and, of course, I knew that was
+you. I said to myself: 'Now, I wonder how long he'll stay there all
+alone? He's sure to take advantage of the first opportunity of getting
+out if the train stops or slows, and if he gets out I'll get out too.'
+Wasn't it lucky that it stopped in a tunnel, and that, therefore, we
+were both of us able to get out without being observed? Quite a stroke
+of fortune! Here we are, right on the high road, with the station a
+little more than a stone's throw in front of us."
+
+Rodney listened to what the stranger had to say as, side by side, they
+tramped across the uneven ground with feelings which he would not have
+found it easy to clothe with words. Beyond all doubt this was a
+lunatic; but of what an uncomfortable kind! He had been wiser to have
+acted on his first impulse and to have left him in the tunnel. Now it
+was too late; it would not be the same thing to--leave him there. Yet,
+if he continued in his company, how should he muzzle him? With what
+would he make him dumb? By what means could he keep him from blurting
+out the whole story to the first person they might meet? Once more,
+though he had uttered not a syllable, there came an answer.
+
+"You run no risk of my blabbing, I am not that kind of person--at
+least, while the cloud is yet afar off. Afterwards, believe me, no one
+pays any heed to what I say. I play the part of audience only. I am
+not, like you, one of Nature's criminals; but I am indifferent, which
+is about the same. What A does to B is A's business and B's, not mine;
+that I always shall maintain. Here we are at the station. It's been
+altered since my time; they've given it a new front. When is the next
+train to town?"
+
+He put the question quite naturally to a porter who was standing
+about.
+
+"Ten-forty; nearly half an hour to wait--that is if she is punctual,
+which she's not always of a Sunday night."
+
+The stranger addressed himself to Elmore.
+
+"That, perhaps, is fortunate, since that will enable me to offer you a
+little refreshment, of which I dare say both of us stand in need."
+
+Rodney, always speechless, walked beside the stranger to the
+refreshment bar. Now he could see him plainly. A notion which had been
+fluttering at the back of his head took flight; there was no
+suggestion of a detective police official about him. He was shorter
+even than he had imagined, probably scarcely over five feet high; a
+mean-looking, ill-shapen fellow, with one shoulder higher than the
+other, which gave him an appearance of being one-sided. Badly dressed
+in an ill-fitting suit of rusty dark-grey tweed, clumsily shod, tie
+disarranged, doubtful collar, old tweed hat shaped like a billycock,
+about him the air of one who was not over fond of soap and water.
+Probably between fifty and sixty, a round, hairless, wizened face, all
+wrinkles, flat, snub nose, curiously small mouth--Rodney wondered if
+the peculiarity of his voice was owing to its coming through so
+small an aperture; queer, big, oval, ugly eyes--small pupils floating
+in a sea of yellow. The young gentleman was conscious of what an
+ill-assorted couple they must appear. He would have liked very much to
+put a termination to the association then and there, but--he could
+not, it was too late.
+
+The stranger on his part seemed sublimely unaware of there being
+anything odd in their companionship. He gave his order to the young
+lady on the other side of the counter.
+
+"One brandy, two Scotch whiskies, and a small soda divided."
+
+The young lady looked as if she was not quite sure that she had caught
+what he said.
+
+"I beg your pardon."
+
+"I said one brandy, two Scotch whiskies, and a small soda divided.
+You've quite right, there are only two of us; I take brandy and whisky
+together--I'm a lunatic."
+
+Two young men at the other end, with whom the young lady had been
+talking, looked at each other and smiled. The young lady also smiled,
+under the apparent impression that, somewhere, there was a joke.
+
+"It is rather unusual, isn't it?"
+
+"Not at all--with lunatics."
+
+It was not easy for standers-by to decide whether or not he was in
+earnest. Rodney was in doubt; indeed, the man's words and manner
+started him wondering to what extent, in all he had been saying, the
+fellow had been "pulling his leg."
+
+The young lady passed three glasses to their side of the counter. The
+stranger, taking two, emptied one into the other. He held it up
+towards Rodney.
+
+"Your very good health, and the next time we meet may you afford me as
+much entertainment."
+
+Swallowing the contents of the glass at a single gulp, he replaced it
+on the counter.
+
+"The same again, miss; one brandy, one Scotch whisky; lunatics don't
+take long over a drop like that."
+
+She looked at him doubtfully for a moment; then gave him what he
+ordered, saying, as she passed him the glasses:
+
+"Two shillings, please."
+
+As again he emptied one into the other he nodded to Rodney.
+
+"Pay her; I've no money--lunatics never have."
+
+Rodney drank what was in his glass, placed a florin on the counter,
+and left the place without a word. Hardly had he reached the door when
+he found the little man again at his side. He commenced pacing up and
+down the dimly lit platform; the little man paced also, two of his
+short steps being the equivalent of one of Rodney's strides. He asked
+himself if he could do nothing to shake the fellow off; with his usual
+singular intuition the other replied to his unspoken thought.
+
+"Not nice, being in the company of one who knows as much as I do?
+Perhaps not; yet I don't see why. I'm incapable of giving evidence; if
+I weren't I wouldn't say a word to spoil the fun; I am as good as a
+dead man. You'll have a dead man for constant companion--why not me?"
+
+Again he gave vent to the snigger which so jarred on the young man's
+nerves. When the train entered the station they were still pacing to
+and fro; Rodney not having yet uttered a single word. The little man
+followed him into the empty first-class compartment which he had
+selected, saying as he drew the door to behind him:
+
+"Isn't it confiding of me to trust myself alone in a carriage with
+you--after what has happened? But I am not in the least afraid. I am
+sure you won't care to repeat your experiment to-night. And I shall
+find it so amusing to sit and watch you, and see what is passing
+through your mind; because, do you know, it will all be just as plain
+to me as if you said everything aloud."
+
+While crediting the stranger with unusual perceptive powers, Rodney
+doubted if in his assertion he did not go too far. If he had the
+dimmest insight into the tangled network of thought with which the
+young man's brain was filled, then he was a marvel indeed. Elmore,
+leaning back in his seat, remained perfectly still, with his face
+towards the window, to all outward seeming as oblivious of the other's
+presence and occasional remarks as if he were not there. When they
+reached Croydon a person approached the carriage window whom the
+stranger plainly recognised; a pleasant-faced, brown-skinned and
+brown-haired young man with a slight moustache, with something in his
+bearing and expression which suggested reserve. Coming into the
+carriage, he said to the stranger, as he sat beside him, half
+smilingly, half chidingly:
+
+"So it is you, is it? I hope you've enjoyed your little trip."
+
+The stranger seemed to regard his coming with an air of not altogether
+pleased surprise.
+
+"You're a most extraordinary man."
+
+The other replied:
+
+"One has to be a little that way if one is responsible for you."
+
+The new-comer's good-humoured curtness seemed to disturb the
+stranger's equilibrium.
+
+"Responsible for me, indeed! Upon my word, you are the most
+extraordinary man."
+
+In his own fashion the stranger introduced the new-comer to Rodney.
+
+"This is Dr. Emmett, my medical attendant. I left him behind me in
+Brighton because I am sick and tired of his society; yet here he is at
+Croydon before I am. How he does these things I do not understand.
+He's a most extraordinary man."
+
+Then, also after his own fashion, he made Rodney known to the
+new-comer.
+
+"Emmett, this is a valued friend of mine, whom I have met for the
+first time to-night. I know all about him, except his voice; and, do
+you know, he's never spoken once."
+
+Rodney, observing the new-comer, perceived, from something which was
+in the glance he gave him in exchange for his, that the position had
+altered. Rising, he moved out of the carriage, still without a word.
+The stranger made as if to follow him, but the doctor put out a
+detaining hand. The train started just as Rodney, having gained the
+platform, was closing the door. The last he saw of the interior of the
+compartment was that the stranger seemed to be warmly expostulating
+with his medical attendant. At Redhill Rodney had got into the front
+part of the train--which was for London Bridge--because he felt that
+between the City and Notting Hill he might have an opportunity of
+shaking the stranger off. Now, as the London Bridge coaches glided out
+of the station, he passed to the Victoria half of the train, which
+awaited an engine, lower down the platform. The doctor's fortuitous
+arrival on the scene had saved him, at least temporarily, from what
+might have been a serious predicament.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XII
+
+                             MARKING TIME
+
+
+Rodney Elmore's rooms were within a short distance of Paddington
+Station. As his cab drew up at the house he saw that another hansom
+was already at the door. Since it was past midnight, its presence was
+suggestive; it betokened a visitor. The house being a small one, there
+was only one other lodger besides himself, and he occupied a modest
+"bed-sitting-room" on the upper floor. His instinct told him that the
+visitor was for himself. At that hour on Sunday night the fact was
+portentous. Opening the door with his latch-key, as he stepped inside
+a girl came hastening towards him from a room at the back,
+noiselessly, as if she did not wish to be overheard, rather a pretty
+girl, with fluffy, fair hair. She spoke in a whisper:
+
+"There's someone to see you--a lady. She would wait, although I told
+her I didn't know when you would be in."
+
+"What's her name?"
+
+"She said Miss Patterson."
+
+He understood--he had been making certain mental calculations as he
+came along. No doubt his uncle would have his name and address upon
+him; his identity would be discovered so soon as they searched the
+body. There had been time to carry the news to Russell Square; this
+was the result. Nodding to the fluffy-haired girl, he passed quickly
+into his sitting-room, which was on the left, in the front of the
+house. Gladys was standing by the table. As she came towards him he
+knew by the look which was on her face that his guess had been
+right--that already she knew at least part of the story.
+
+"Where have you been?" she exclaimed. "I thought you were never
+coming."
+
+Taking both her hands in his, he drew her to him.
+
+"My dear child! how could I guess that you were here? What does it
+mean?"
+
+She looked at him with a curious sombre something in her big dark
+eyes, which reminded him of a child who is about to cry. Her lips
+trembled.
+
+"Rodney, dad's dead."
+
+His tone was eager, gentle, sympathetic; instinct with surprise.
+
+"Dead! You--you don't mean it!"
+
+"In the train."
+
+"In the train! What train?"
+
+She told her tale, he listening with interest, anxiety, tenderness,
+which were sufficiently real.
+
+"I was just going to bed."
+
+"Dear, you're shivering. You'd better sit down."
+
+"I'd rather stand--close to you."
+
+He put his arms about her and held her tight. He kissed her.
+"Sweetheart," he whispered. He could feel her trembling; tears were
+beginning to shine in her eyes.
+
+"I was in my bedroom, and--and--I was thinking about you"--about the
+corners of her lips was the queerest little smile--"when there was a
+ringing at the front door. I thought it was dad, who had forgotten his
+key; but they came and told me that there was a gentleman downstairs
+who wished to see me very particularly about my father, and that it
+was most important. So I slipped on a dressing-jacket and went down to
+him. It was someone from the railway company. They had found dad in
+the carriage of a train which had come from Brighton. He was dead--now
+he was at Victoria Station--he had committed suicide."
+
+"Suicide!"
+
+Rodney started; it could not have been better done if his surprise had
+been genuine.
+
+"It's--it's incredible!"
+
+"I can only tell you what the man told me. He said of course there
+would have to be an inquiry, but all the indications pointed at that.
+He had poisoned himself; in his hand they had found a box in which
+were some more of the things with which he had done it."
+
+"I can only say that to me it seems--it does seem impossible. I should
+have said he was the last person to do anything like that."
+
+"You never can tell what sort of person will do a thing like that.
+I once knew a girl who went straight up after dinner to her bedroom
+and--did it; no one ever knew why. I went with the man to Victoria,
+and--saw dad; I've come right on from there. I felt that I couldn't
+go home till I had seen you. I believe I should have stayed here all
+night if you hadn't come."
+
+"You poor little thing!--sweetheart mine!--you only woman in the
+world!"
+
+"You--you will be good to me, Rodney?"
+
+"Never was man better to a woman than I will try to be to you."
+
+"Suppose--suppose dad did it because he was ruined?"
+
+"My dear girl, as you are aware, I was not in your father's
+confidence--still, I am pretty nearly certain that, commercially, it
+will be found that he was all right. Yet, should it turn out that he
+was even worse than penniless, it will not make a mite of difference
+in my love for you."
+
+"You are sure?"
+
+"Absolutely. Aren't you?"
+
+"I do believe you care for me a little, or--I shouldn't be here."
+
+"A little! You--you bad girl; you dearest, sweetest of darlings!
+Between ourselves, if it does turn out that you're no richer than I
+am, I shan't be sorry. He never did want you to have anything to do
+with me. I might have won him over if he had lived; you know, I
+believe he was commencing to like me a little better. I'm not sure
+that I wouldn't sooner have you without his money; I should feel as if
+I were playing the game."
+
+"It will be horrid if he has left nothing; it will perhaps mean a
+scandal, and things are bad enough as they are."
+
+"I see what you have in your mind, but I assure you you need not have
+the slightest fear. I'll stake my own integrity that in all matters of
+business your father had the highest sense of honour. I'll be willing
+to write myself down a rogue if it can be shown that he ever deviated
+in any particular from the highest standard of commercial rectitude."
+
+"I hope you're right."
+
+"I am right, on that point you may rest assured."
+
+"You know, Rodney, you're all I have in the world--now."
+
+The use of the adverb, in that connection, tickled him. The idea that,
+so far as she was concerned, her father ever had been much of a
+personal asset was distinctly funny. However, he allowed no hint of
+how her words struck him to peep out; never a more ardent lover, a
+more present help in the time of a girl's trouble. He escorted her to
+what bade henceforward to be her lonely home in the cab which still
+waited at the door. When he returned to Paddington it was very late.
+As he moved to his bedroom up the darkened staircase a door opened on
+the landing. The fluffy-haired girl looked out. She was in a state of
+considerable _deshabille_.
+
+"You are late," she whispered. "I thought you never were coming back."
+
+"You goose."
+
+He put his arms about her and kissed her with the calmest proprietary
+air.
+
+"To think that you should be still awake."
+
+"You knew I should sit up; you knew mother wasn't coming back
+to-night, and you said you'd be in early."
+
+She spoke with an air of grievance. He smiled.
+
+"It's been a case of man proposes. I have had many things to contend
+with--all sorts of worries. Now, as I want breakfast early, I'm going
+to bed, and, I hope, to sleep, if you aren't."
+
+"You don't care for me a bit."
+
+He kissed her again.
+
+She waited on him at breakfast, which, as he had forewarned her, he
+had unusually early. She was his landlady's daughter; her name was
+Mabel Joyce. Among his letters was one from Stella Austin. He opened
+it as she placed before him his bacon and eggs; as he glanced at
+Stella's opening lines Miss Joyce talked.
+
+"So you went to Brighton yesterday--by the Pullman, too."
+
+He looked up at her as if surprised.
+
+"Did I? Who told you that?"
+
+"Didn't you?"
+
+"You say I did. Pray, from what quarter did you get your information?"
+
+"Oh, there are plenty of quarters from which I can get
+information--when I like. And your uncle was in Brighton. It doesn't
+look as if he had a very pleasant day there, as he committed suicide
+in the train on the way back to town. I dare say you had a pleasanter
+day than he did."
+
+"I presume you got that information either from this morning's paper
+or else from listening last night outside the door."
+
+"As it happens, I haven't seen a paper, and, as for listening, if you
+don't know I wouldn't do a thing like that it's no use my saying so."
+
+"Then who was your informant?"
+
+"That's my business. There is a little bird which sometimes whispers
+in my ear. Did you come back in the Pullman?"
+
+He replied to her question with another.
+
+"What's the matter with you, Mabel?"
+
+"What should be? Nothing's the matter; I was only thinking that if you
+did, your uncle must have been in the train just behind you. If you'd
+have known what he was doing you'd have felt funny. Still, if you did
+come by the Pullman, considering that it's due at Victoria at ten, and
+yesterday was quite punctual, since you had promised to be in early,
+and knew that I was all alone in the house, I think you might have
+been back before midnight."
+
+He eyed the girl. She was pretty, in a pink-and-white sort of way;
+fonder of him than was good for her. He had never seen her in this
+shrewish mood before.
+
+"My dear Mabel, if I could have got back earlier I would have done so;
+but I couldn't. I was the sufferer, not you."
+
+"I dare say! I suppose that Miss Patterson was your cousin. Are you
+going to marry her?"
+
+"Really! you jump about! How do you suppose a fellow in my position
+can tell whom he's going to marry--on twopence a year?"
+
+"I dare say she's got money, especially now. Since directly she heard
+of her father's death she came tearing round to you, at that time of
+night, it looks as if you ought to marry her if you don't!"
+
+Miss Joyce flounced out of the room. For some moments he sat
+considering her words. Who told her that he went to Brighton, on the
+Pullman? Was it a lucky guess? Hardly; probably someone had seen him.
+People's eyes were everywhere. He would have to be careful what tale
+he told. It was odd how gingerly one had to walk when one was in a
+delicate position; there were so many unseen strings over which one
+might stumble.
+
+As he ate his breakfast he read Stella's letter. It was a girl's first
+letter to her lover; which is apt to be a wonderful production, as in
+this case. He had not supposed that a letter from Stella could have
+stirred him as that one did. It suggested the perfect love which
+casteth out fear. She bared her simple heart to him in perfect trust
+and confidence, showing in every line that, to her, he was both hero
+and king, that man of men,--her husband that was to be. Tears actually
+stood in his eyes as he realised the pathos of it all; how sweet to
+hold such innocence in his arms. He was not sure that he had not been
+over-hasty in concluding that here was no wife for him. The picture
+which, as he read on, quite unwittingly she presented to his mind's
+eye, of the two wandering hand in hand down the vale of years, to the
+goal of venerable old age at the end, moved him to the depths. It was
+sweet to be so trusted; he would have loved to have her with him at
+the breakfast-table then. It was so dear a letter that he kissed it as
+he folded it, and slipped it into the inside pocket of his coat.
+
+Then he set himself to thinking. Part of the point of Stella's letter
+lay in the fact that she expected him to go to her that night, and
+wished him to know all the things she set down in black and white, so
+that they might be able to talk about them when he came. The
+misfortune was that he was not going. He would have liked to
+go--truly. He felt that after what had happened lately an evening
+spent with Stella would be delicious. So strongly did he feel this
+that he cast about in his mind for some means of ensuring himself
+even a few fleeting minutes in her society; but could hit on none.
+Accident might befriend him, but he doubted if Gladys would give
+accident much chance. He had promised that he would go from the
+office straight to her; it might go ill with him if he did not. Once
+with her, she was not likely to let him go again till it was too
+late to think of Stella.
+
+How appease the maiden for her disappointment? He could think of
+nothing but laying stress on the dreadful thing which had happened to
+his uncle, and putting all the blame on that. He had never mentioned
+his cousin to Stella, or to Mary, or to anyone, being of those who, if
+they can help it, do not like their first finger to know what their
+thumb is doing. Stella did not know he had a feminine relative; it
+might be inconvenient to acquaint her with the fact just now; quite
+possibly her soft heart might move her to go and offer the orphaned
+Gladys consolation. He smiled as the droll side of such a possibility
+tickled his sense of humour. Possibly the time might come when the two
+young women would have to know of each other's existence, but--perhaps
+it might be as well to put it off for awhile.
+
+He scribbled a hasty note to Stella, speaking of the rapture her
+letter had given him, and dwelling, in lurid hues, on the tragedy of
+his uncle's end; then suddenly remembered that, from her point of
+view, he ought not to have heard of it. What a number of trifles one
+did have to think of. He had not seen a paper; he did not propose to
+tell her of his trip to Brighton; she had heard nothing of Gladys; she
+might ask some awkward questions as to how he came to know about it so
+early in the day. He tore the note up and made a bonfire of the
+pieces. Then he scribbled another, in which he only spoke of his
+rapture and of the ecstatic longing with which he looked forward to
+seeing her after his office work was done, and of how the intervening
+seconds would go by like leaden hours--he felt that a poetic touch of
+that sort was the least that was required. Then, when he reached the
+office, he might wire her the dreadful tidings in an agitated
+telegram, and, later, in a still more agitated telegram, inform her
+that one awful consequence of the upheaval which had followed the
+hideous tragedy was that he would be unable to come to her to-night.
+The tale would be much more effective told like that. Whatever her
+feelings were, he did not see how a loophole would be left to her to
+lay blame on him.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XIII
+
+                         SPREADING HIS WINGS
+
+
+A disagreeable surprise awaited him when he reached St. Paul's
+Churchyard. Taking it for granted that everything would now belong to
+Gladys, he was prepared to act as her representative and sole
+relative, and, if needs be, carry things off with a high hand--above
+and beyond all else, he was desirous of gaining access to certain
+documents whose existence constituted a peril to him. To that end he
+arrived before his usual time, being conscious that this was an
+occasion on which it might be an advantage to be first on the field.
+To his disgust he found that at least two persons were in front of
+him, and that they were both in what had been his uncle's private
+room. One was Mr. Andrews, the managing man, the other was a
+square-jawed individual, whose blue cheeks pointed to a life-long
+struggle with a refractory beard. He was seated, as one in authority,
+in his uncle's own chair behind his uncle's own table. They were
+busily conversing as Rodney came unannounced into the room, but
+paused to stare at him.
+
+"This," explained Mr. Andrews to the man in the chair, "is Mr. Rodney
+Elmore--the nephew I was telling you about."
+
+There was a lack of deference in the speaker's tone which the young
+gentleman resented, and had resented in silence more than once in the
+days which were past; but the time for silence was gone. He had been
+making up his mind on that point on his way to the City. Recognising,
+from the bearing of the two men in front of him, that a new and,
+as yet, unknown factor bade fair to figure on the scene, with
+characteristic readiness he arrived at an instant resolution. Ignoring
+Andrews, he addressed himself to the man in the chair.
+
+"May I ask, sir, who you are?"
+
+The stranger's penetrating eyes were set deep in his head; he fixed
+them on the young gentleman's face with a steady stare of evident
+surprise. Rodney returned him stare for stare.
+
+"You may ask, young gentleman, and, though I seriously doubt if
+you are entitled to ask, I don't mind telling you. My name is
+Wilkes--Stephen Wilkes; I am your late uncle's legal adviser, and
+am here to safeguard the interests he has left behind."
+
+"Then, Mr. Wilkes, be so good as to get out of that chair."
+
+Mr. Andrews looked at the speaker in shocked amazement.
+
+"Mr. Elmore! You forget yourself! How dare you speak like that to a
+gentleman in Mr. Wilkes's position."
+
+For answer, Rodney turned to the managing man, addressing him as
+curtly and peremptorily as if he had been some menial servant.
+
+"Andrews, leave the room!"
+
+The other's eyes opened still wider; probably he had never been so
+spoken to before, even by his late master in his most irascible moods.
+He drew up his spare and rather bowed figure with what he perhaps
+meant to be a touch of dignity.
+
+"Mr. Elmore, the consequences will be very serious if you talk to me
+like that."
+
+"The consequences will be very serious if you don't obey my orders."
+
+"Your orders?"
+
+"My orders. Are you going to leave the room, or am I to put you out?"
+
+"Steady, young gentleman, steady. I have been your uncle's legal
+adviser for perhaps more years than you have been in the world, and
+am, therefore, intimately acquainted with his wishes. I am here to see
+those wishes carried out. I understand that you occupied a very humble
+position in this office, and, though accident made you his relative,
+you were not in possession of your uncle's confidence. Your position
+is in no way altered by his death, and you have no right to issue what
+you call orders here--emphatically not to Mr. Andrews. If there is any
+question as to who is to leave the room, it is certainly not Mr.
+Andrews who must go, but you."
+
+"Mr. Wilkes, I do not propose to bandy words, and when I have once
+pointed out that you entirely misapprehend the situation on that
+subject I have done. All that Mr. Patterson had is now his daughter's,
+including this business and all that it implies. I am here as Miss
+Patterson's representative."
+
+"Indeed! By whom appointed?"
+
+"By Miss Patterson. I may inform you that Miss Patterson will shortly
+be my wife."
+
+"Is that so? This is news. Since when has that arrangement been made?"
+
+"Your words imply a sneer and an impertinence. That being so, I
+decline to enter into any further details with you beyond a bare
+statement of the fact."
+
+"Are you not taking too much for granted in asserting that everything
+is left to Miss Patterson?"
+
+"I have not a doubt of it; with the exception, possibly, of some small
+legacies. He left a will?"
+
+"He did."
+
+"Is it in your possession?"
+
+"It is."
+
+"Then I must ask you to produce it at once."
+
+"Produce it? To whom?"
+
+"To me. Miss Patterson has instructed me to request you to hand it
+over at once to my keeping."
+
+"Then, if that is so, I am afraid that, for the moment, I have no
+choice but to ignore the young lady's request. I will see Miss
+Patterson."
+
+"Miss Patterson will decline to see you."
+
+"She will decline to see me? On what grounds?"
+
+"It is not necessary that she should state any grounds. Any
+communication you wish to have with Miss Patterson must be through me
+or her solicitor. Do I understand that you finally refuse to do as she
+requests, and hand me her father's will?"
+
+"If you were not a very young man, Mr. Elmore, I should say that you
+were a foolish one; but possibly youth is your extenuation. The will
+will be produced at the proper time, in the proper place, to the
+proper person; it will certainly not be handed to you."
+
+"Then Miss Patterson's solicitor will at once take steps which will
+compel its instant production."
+
+"Miss Patterson's solicitor? You really are a remarkable young man! I
+am Miss Patterson's solicitor. It was her father's wish that I should
+continue to act for her, as I acted for him."
+
+"You will do nothing of the kind. If Mr. Patterson has left any legal
+powers to that effect, his daughter will resort to every process of
+law to effect your removal; your refusal to withdraw will not redound
+to your credit. You say you have been his legal adviser for more years
+than I am old. Mr. Patterson was a bad husband and a bad father. He
+utterly neglected his daughter; he did nothing to show that he had any
+of a parent's natural feelings; although she respected his every wish
+and he had no complaint to make of her, he was wholly indifferent to
+both her welfare and her happiness; he saw as little of her and did as
+little for her as he could. In many respects he was to her both a
+reproach and a shame, the sole object of his existence being his own
+gross physical enjoyment. Without being, perhaps, what is called an
+habitual drunkard, he habitually drank too much, and was frequently
+intoxicated in her presence. He was an evil-liver--with his relations
+with notorious women you are probably better acquainted than I am;
+she, unfortunately, has good reason to know that they were of a
+discreditable kind. To crown an ill-spent career he has taken his own
+life, under circumstances which can hardly fail to be the cause of
+scandal, which may leave a brand on her for the remainder of her life,
+though she is still only a girl. You apparently pride yourself on
+having been confidential adviser to such a man through a great number
+of years. Is it strange, therefore, that she would rather that
+somebody else should advise her? Think it over; you will yourself
+perceive that it is not strange; I am sure that will be the feeling of
+a court of law. Now, Mr. Wilkes, I must again ask you to get out of
+that chair."
+
+"And if I refuse?"
+
+Rodney moved to the other side of the table, took Mr. Wilkes--who was
+not a big man--by either elbow, lifted him as if he were a child, and
+deposited himself on the chair in his place. The solicitor, who had
+made not the slightest show of resistance, stood ruefully rubbing his
+arms.
+
+"I believe you have put both my elbows out of joint, you young
+ruffian."
+
+Rodney was placidity itself.
+
+"Have you never heard of Jiu-jitsu, Mr. Wilkes? You know even better
+than I do that you are a trespasser on these premises, and that a
+trespasser is a person towards whom one is entitled to use all
+necessary force."
+
+Taking a bunch of keys out of his jacket pocket, he inserted one in
+the lock of the drawer which was in front of him. Mr. Wilkes surveyed
+the proceeding with obvious surprise.
+
+"What keys are those?"
+
+"These are my uncle's keys. They were handed to me by Miss Patterson,
+with instructions to go through her father's private papers and
+documents, and so ensure their not being tampered with by persons who
+certainly have not her interest at heart."
+
+"If you take my earnest advice, young gentleman, you will not touch
+anything which is in those drawers. If you are not careful you will go
+too far."
+
+"I will not take your advice, Mr. Wilkes--whether earnest or
+otherwise. I observe, Andrews, that you are still there. There are one
+or two remarks which I wish to make to Mr. Wilkes in private. Once
+more, are you going to leave this room?"
+
+The managing man looked at the lawyer as if for advice and help in the
+moment of his hesitation.
+
+"Perhaps," said Mr. Wilkes, replying to his unspoken question, "you
+had better go. You will commit yourself to nothing by going."
+
+"Whereas," observed Elmore, with his smiling glance fixed on the
+managing man, "you will commit yourself to a good deal by not going,
+because I shall not only put you out of this door, but into the
+street. So far as this office is concerned, that will be the end of
+you. I will take steps which will ensure your never entering it
+again."
+
+After another brief moment of hesitation, with a glance of what was
+very like reproach towards the lawyer, Andrews quitted the room, with
+the air of one who was both bewildered and hurt. So soon as he had
+gone Mr. Wilkes observed:
+
+"Mr. Elmore, you are taking a very great deal upon yourself; you
+certainly have the courage of youth, but be warned by me, don't take
+too much. If it is shown that your uncle's depositions are not what
+you are taking it for granted they are, your position will be rendered
+more difficult by the attitude you are now taking up."
+
+"I care nothing for any warning which comes from you, Mr. Wilkes. Why
+did my uncle commit suicide?"
+
+"What do you mean by asking me such a question? Do you imagine that if
+I knew I should tell you?"
+
+"Does that mean that you know?"
+
+"It means nothing of the sort; but it does mean that if I had any such
+secret knowledge, the only person to whom I should breathe a word of
+it would be his daughter."
+
+"That you certainly would not do. Miss Patterson's heartfelt prayer is
+that she may never know. That he had some shameful reason is plain; if
+it can be kept from her it shall be; if it reaches her through you,
+you will deserve to be whipped."
+
+"Mr. Elmore, I knew your father."
+
+"That's more, Mr. Wilkes, than I ever did."
+
+"His end was like your uncle's."
+
+"So I learned from my uncle before--he ended. And it is because the
+shame of what he did seems to rest on me, in the mouths of such as
+you, that I am resolved to shield my cousin--if I can. I imagine that,
+in a strictly scientific sense, you are, in part, responsible for my
+uncle's fate."
+
+"How do you arrive at that--somewhat startling conclusion?"
+
+"You aided and abetted him in what he did."
+
+"Indeed! As how?"
+
+"I happen to know that you were more than once his companion when he
+was in the society of certain notorious women, with whose character
+you were undoubtedly as well acquainted as he was."
+
+"And if I was--what then?"
+
+"If, on more than one occasion, A is in the company of B when B is in
+the act of committing a crime, what is the inference we draw as
+regards A?"
+
+"You really are a remarkable young man!"
+
+"More. On more than one occasion you have borrowed money from Mr.
+Patterson."
+
+"We have had business relations for many years."
+
+"Did he ever borrow money from you?"
+
+"No; because he did not do the class of business I did."
+
+"Exactly. At this moment you are his debtor in a considerable sum."
+
+"I don't know from whom you get your information, but if it is from
+your uncle you must be perfectly well aware that the whole matter is
+on a proper footing, and that there can be no reasonable doubt as to
+my fulfilling my engagements both in the letter and the spirit."
+
+"Still, you have been in the habit of borrowing money from your
+client, sometimes, I believe, to save yourself from a difficult
+position. Possibly his will contains a clause relieving you of your
+indebtedness; possibly, also, a court of law will see its way to
+relieve Miss Patterson from any obligation to accept your services. I
+will not detain you any longer, Mr. Wilkes. Good morning. Please don't
+gossip with the employes as you go out."
+
+Mr. Wilkes looked as if he would have said a good deal; but Mr. Elmore
+had already begun to write a letter--there was an air of complete
+indifference about him which apparently brought him to the conclusion
+that it might perhaps be as well to say nothing. He took his hat off
+the table and went out in silence. Presently Rodney, ringing the bell,
+said to the lad who answered:
+
+"Take that letter to the address which is on the envelope at once, and
+bring me an answer; also tell Mr. Andrews that I wish to speak to
+him."
+
+Shortly the managing man appeared in the doorway. One felt that he had
+hesitated whether or not to come, and that he was oppressed by
+something like a sense of shame at the thought of having yielded. The
+young gentleman, leaning back, regarded him with the pleasant little
+smile which, so far, had not left him--it was odd of what a number of
+subtle inflections his manner was capable without once disturbing the
+smile.
+
+"Sit down, Andrews; take this chair."
+
+The other did as he was told, sitting on the extreme edge, leaning
+slightly forward, his long legs crooked in front of him, his hands
+resting on his knees.
+
+"How old are you, Andrews?"
+
+Instead of replying to the question, the managing man started off on a
+line of his own.
+
+"Mr. Elmore, you must excuse my remarking that, so far as I am
+concerned, I don't understand the position at all."
+
+"You will, Andrews, shortly. I always have felt that your mental
+processes were perhaps a trifle slow."
+
+"I have been in this office, boy and man, practically my whole life
+long; I'm older than your uncle was, and I was here before he came. He
+was with Harding and Fletcher before he took this business over, and,
+so to speak, he took me with it. It was a solid business then, and
+it's a solid business still--indeed, it's even better than it was. I'm
+almost--if not quite--as well known in the City as he was; he would
+have been the first to tell you that with the continued success I have
+had something to do. He was, in some ways, a difficult man to deal
+with; but no man had a better head for business--if he gave his
+confidence, you might be sure it was deserved, and he had entire
+confidence in me."
+
+"Hear, hear! Go on; I like to hear you."
+
+"When he said a thing he meant it. It's always been a joke among those
+who knew him that Graham Patterson's word was as good as a bank-note.
+He has told me more than once that when he was gone----"
+
+"He anticipated going?"
+
+"Not more than other men; only, he was methodical and liked to have
+everything in order, and, if he could help it, leave nothing to
+chance. He has told me, as I have said, more than once, that when he
+was gone--since he only had a daughter--he had arranged that the whole
+management of the business should be in my hands, and that he had left
+me a small share in it. He said, frankly, some time ago that he would
+give me a share in it then and there; if it weren't that he was the
+kind of man who never would get on with a partner; and that was the
+case--often he was difficult. I am sure, from what he told me, that it
+will be found that he has left the management of the business in my
+hands, as well as a share. What I don't understand, therefore, is on
+what grounds you are taking up the position you appear to be doing. I
+am far from wishing to have any unpleasantness with you, Mr. Elmore,
+but I do not understand."
+
+"I represent Miss Patterson."
+
+"But I represent the business--which was her father's, not hers."
+
+"But it's hers now, you yourself admit that you only expect to be left
+a small share."
+
+"But I'm left the management."
+
+"That's--I am far from wishing to have any unpleasantness with you,
+Mr. Andrews, but--you must know that that's all tuppence."
+
+"Pray, Mr. Elmore, what do you mean by that? A will's a will; its
+terms are not to be lightly set aside."
+
+"You have not told me how old you are, Mr. Andrews, but you have told
+me that you are my uncle's senior."
+
+"So far as head for business goes, I am as young as ever I was."
+
+"I will not contradict you. I am inclined to think that you are as you
+were--thirty, forty years ago--that is, in a commercial sense, a
+thousand years behind the times."
+
+"You have no right to say that. What do you know about business--a
+young man like you?"
+
+"I am a man of business, Mr. Andrews."
+
+"I was not aware of it until this moment."
+
+"You will be more clearly aware of it before long. I was prepared to
+marry my cousin had she been penniless, as only the other day--if she
+married me--she bade fair to be. In that event I would have made her
+fortune, and my own, as sure as you are sitting there. As events have
+turned out, so far from being penniless, she is, shall we say, the
+three-fourths proprietor of a flourishing business, with, probably,
+all the capital at her command which is needed for its development.
+Under such circumstances, why should I not devote my energies to the
+aggrandisement of her business? If I do, do you suppose for one
+instant--will or no will--that the management of affairs will be in
+your hands? That you will lead, and I shall follow? Absurd, Andrews;
+the business has reached a stage at which it can branch out
+advantageously in a dozen different directions."
+
+"I believe there's something in what you say--if it's in the hands of
+the right man."
+
+"I am the right man! In the case of equipment of the modern man of
+business, if he has a head upon his shoulders, youth is his strongest
+card--it assures his being abreast of the procession. I know what can
+be done with this business, and it shall be done; I'll do it. In ten
+years it shall rank among the greatest of its kind in the City of
+London--in the world; if you live till then you'll own it."
+
+"I'm a bachelor. I've saved enough to keep me in comfort. The business
+has been to me both wife and child, I could not love it better if it
+were my own. If I were sure that it would grow and flourish, always on
+a solid basis, I shouldn't care so much about myself; but it would
+break my heart, if, for any cause whatever, it were to go to pieces."
+
+"It won't; you'll see. We'll talk about it again when the exact
+conditions of my uncle's will are known. Whatever they turn out to be,
+I shouldn't be surprised if you and I get on better together than at
+this moment you may suppose--you'll find that I like to get on with
+everyone. By the way, there is one disagreeable matter which, if we
+are to arrive at a perfect understanding, I ought to speak to you
+about. Are you aware that during the last few years various small acts
+of dishonesty have taken place in this office?"
+
+"Mr. Elmore! I never heard of it."
+
+"My uncle knew; he was speaking to me on the subject only a day or two
+ago. I fancy he even knew who the culprit was. He told me that there
+were proofs of what he more than hinted at locked up in one of his
+drawers. It was because of what he said that I was so anxious to go
+through his papers before anyone else could get at them."
+
+"I hope, Mr. Elmore, you are not imputing dishonesty to me?"
+
+"To you, my good Andrews! Do you think I don't know an honest man when
+I see one? In that respect I am like my uncle. I am as sure as I am
+sure of anything that you are as honest a man as I am--rest quite easy
+on that score. I only wished to point out that while you supposed
+yourself to be keeping a sharp eye on everything, and that nothing
+which took place in the office escaped your notice, these
+irregularities were taking place beneath your very nose. However, on
+that subject also I may have to speak to you again later. Still
+another point. The inquest on my uncle is to be held to-day at
+Victoria Station. As you will readily understand, Miss Patterson is
+not in a condition to appear at such an inquiry, if her presence can
+be dispensed with; we are advised it can. She wishes me to ask you if
+you will appear at the inquiry, and give such formal evidence as may
+be required. I don't know what questions will be asked you. Frankly,
+can you throw any light on any cause which may have induced his rash
+act? I take it he had no financial reason?"
+
+"Absolutely none, of that I'm convinced. He had all the money he
+wanted, and there was nothing wrong with the business. It's a mystery
+to me."
+
+"I fancy it will remain a mystery. Why some men and women make away
+with themselves is a mystery which only they themselves could have
+solved."
+
+"I don't understand why you and he didn't get on better together."
+
+"Nor I; to me it was a great disappointment. As you have said, he was
+difficult. He may have felt that my ideas on business matters were
+different from his, and didn't like it."
+
+"Perhaps if he had lived it would have been different."
+
+"We shall never know what, in that case, might have happened. May I
+take it that, in the matter of the inquest, you will do as Miss
+Patterson asks?"
+
+"I will--certainly."
+
+"Thank you. You increase the debt which she is conscious she owes you
+as her father's right-hand man, and which, whatever the terms of his
+will may be, she will never forget."
+
+The lad entered to whom he had entrusted the letter.
+
+"Mr. Parmiter has come back with me, sir; he's outside."
+
+"Good; show him in. I think, Mr. Andrews, that, as the inquest is
+timed for noon, you had better be starting."
+
+The old man went out, and a young one came into the room--a young man,
+with a student's face and fair hair. Although his cheeks were pale,
+his appearance was not unprepossessing. Elmore greeted him with
+outstretched hands.
+
+"Clarence, old man, it's very good of you to come right away like
+this. I hope it's not seriously inconvenienced you."
+
+"Not a bit. Between ourselves, I was sitting in the office twiddling
+my thumbs and wondering what I should do now I'd finished reading the
+paper."
+
+"I'll give you something to do. Sit down. You've heard what's happened
+to my uncle?"
+
+"I remember your telling me you were with an uncle, but I don't know
+how many uncles you have nor to which of them you're referring."
+
+"I have, or, rather, had, only one uncle, and last night he committed
+suicide in the Brighton train."
+
+"Great Scott! Whatever for?"
+
+"That's it. I'll tell you in as few words as possible what the
+position is. He's left a daughter, an only child, who is now an
+orphan, to whom I'm engaged to be married. To her he was not--well,
+all that a father might have been; he drank, and he womanised."
+
+"Did he? Nice man!"
+
+"That's precisely what he was not--a nice man. She knew very little
+about his private affairs, though quite as much as she wanted. He may
+have killed himself because he was financially wrong, though,
+personally, I doubt it, or for any one of a score of reasons. You'll
+guess the state of mind she's in."
+
+"Naturally; in a case like that it's those who are left who suffer
+most."
+
+"Of course. She's anxious, before all else, to know where she
+stands--that is, to know the worst. His affairs were in the hands of
+a solicitor named Wilkes."
+
+"I know him--Stephen Wilkes; he's an able man."
+
+"Maybe. But she doesn't want him for her solicitor all the same for
+that, for reasons on which, later, I may enlarge. She's asked me if I
+knew anyone who would act for her. I suggested you."
+
+"Thank you, Rodney. You always were a fellow who'd do a chap a good
+turn if you would."
+
+"Nonsense! Do you think that I don't know you--even in the old
+schooldays? You're as clever a man as you'd be likely to meet in a
+long day's journey, and as dependable. You mayn't have the largest
+practice in London to-day, but you will have. What's more, I'd trust
+you with my bottom dollar, which is more than you can say of the
+general run of solicitors nowadays. I told her so."
+
+"I'll try my best to prove worthy of your commendation."
+
+"I've no fear of that, not the least. You may consider Miss Patterson
+your client, and me; and we may both of us turn out to be quite good
+clients before we've done. I've asked you to come here in order to
+give you your first instructions."
+
+"I'm all ears."
+
+"Mr. Wilkes is in possession of my uncle's will; he himself says so.
+Miss Patterson wanted him to hand it over to me to pass on to her, but
+he declined. Can't you persuade him, acting on Miss Patterson's
+behalf, to produce the will at the earliest possible moment--say this
+afternoon at four, in her house in Russell Square--and make known its
+contents then and there? She'll not sleep till she knows the worst."
+
+"I can try what my persuasive powers will do. Presumably he knows its
+contents?"
+
+"Presumably, since it is even probable that he drew it up."
+
+"By it he may be appointed to some office of trust."
+
+"Exactly. That's one of the things she wants to know; because, if he
+is, she'll leave no stone unturned to get him out of it. His relations
+with her father were such that she'll not be induced to have relations
+of any kind with him."
+
+"I see; that's how it is. Persons may be interested whose presence he
+may think desirable at the reading and who are not accessible at such
+short notice."
+
+"There's nothing in that, Clarence. Candidly, some woman may be
+interested; it's only surmise on my part, but it's possible, and her
+presence would neither be essential nor advisable. There's the feeling
+that whatever her father may have done, Wilkes will not be considering
+her interests only--that's why she wants you. Get him to attend this
+afternoon in Russell Square with the will; that'll prove to her that I
+knew what I was about in suggesting you."
+
+"I'll do my utmost, but you clearly understand that I can't force the
+man. There's an etiquette in such matters; he'll be perfectly in order
+if he stands on it."
+
+"Do your best, Clarence--that's all I ask, and, if possible, let me
+know how it's going to be inside an hour. I want to keep Miss
+Patterson posted in what is taking place. If you only knew what a
+state of mind she's in!"
+
+When Mr. Parmiter had gone, Rodney, having given instructions that, if
+it could be avoided, he was not to be disturbed, subjected the
+contents of the drawers in his uncle's writing-table to a thorough
+examination. He came across some interesting items. There was a small
+leather-bound memorandum-book, which was locked. He opened it with a
+key which was on his uncle's private bunch. In a flap attached to the
+cover were some cheques which had been duly presented and paid and
+some other papers. A glance at the contents of the book showed that
+they principally related to him, after a fashion which occasioned him
+surprise, blended with amusement. He had no idea that in his uncle the
+detective instinct had been so strongly developed. He tore the cheques
+and other papers into tiny bits, made a bonfire of them on an iron
+shovel, and ground the ashes into powder. The book itself he slipped
+into his jacket pocket. In one of the drawers was a canvas bag,
+containing quite a number of gold coins, while in a letter-case were
+several bank-notes. He put the bag into another of his pockets, just
+as it was, and transferred the notes to a letter-case of his own. He
+chanced just then to be hard pressed for ready cash, as, indeed, was
+his every-day condition. Should certain eventualities arise, the
+possession of that money might prove to be of the very first
+importance. In still another drawer he found an envelope which was
+endorsed, in his uncle's handwriting, "Draft of my Will." He studied
+the sheet of ruled foolscap which he took out of it with every
+appearance of absorbed interest. It was not a very lengthy document.
+When he had read it he laid it on the table, drew a long breath, and
+smiled.
+
+"That's all right! It mayn't be all that Gladys would have liked it to
+be, but it might have been so much worse; it will serve. A good deal
+may depend on the exact wording; but, anyhow, between us we ought to
+be able to shape a will like that so that it shall mean, in the not
+very far-off future, that I shall be a millionaire--unless I'm a
+greater fool than I suppose. I'd like to wager a trifle that in me
+there's the stuff that goes to the making of a modern millionaire, and
+if the will as it stands is on those lines, it ought to give me at
+least an outside chance of proving it. Here's to you, Uncle P., and,
+if people can see from the other side, how happy the knowledge that
+your daughter and your business are in such capable hands should make
+you."
+
+A lad came in with an envelope.
+
+"A messenger boy has just brought this, sir."
+
+The note within ran:
+
+
+"DEAR RODNEY,--I have carried out your first instructions to the
+letter, so I have begun well. Mr. Wilkes will be in Russell Square
+this afternoon at four with the will. Unless I hear from you to the
+contrary, I shall be there at half-past three--to be introduced to
+Miss Patterson, to receive any further instructions, and to be at hand
+in case I am wanted generally. You might let me have a message by
+bearer.--Yours sincerely,
+
+                                   "CLARENCE PARMITER."
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER XIV
+
+                 BUSINESS FIRST, PLEASURE AFTERWARDS
+
+
+That afternoon there were five persons in the drawing-room of the
+house in Russell Square. Miss Patterson, who was already attired in
+garments of orthodox hue, in which Rodney felt that she did not look
+her best. It is your fair, slender women who appear to advantage in
+black--she was too big and dark. There was Rodney, who was also in
+mourning, which did become him; but, then, anything became him. He was
+one of your tall, graceful, well-set-up, debonair, handsome young
+fellows whom any tailor might find it worth his while to dress at
+reduced prices for the sake of the advertisement. The other three men
+also were in black: Mr. Wilkes's dark blue cheeks almost matching his
+attire; Mr. Parmiter's light hair and pale face standing out in marked
+relief; Mr. Andrews's general air of colourlessness causing his sombre
+attire to make him seem older than it need have done. The proceedings
+were short--unexpectedly short--and to the point. Mr. Wilkes had met
+Miss Patterson before, and while her almost sullen manner suggested no
+fondness for him, his brusqueness hinted at no particular attachment
+for her. The keen-eyed Rodney, observing their demeanour, told himself
+that the lawyer had been too much the father's friend to care overmuch
+for the child, which was, perhaps, as well, since it might make things
+easier.
+
+The inquest was already over. Mr. Wilkes had been present, and had
+taken with him a physician whom he was aware that Graham Patterson had
+consulted. He testified that Mr. Patterson was suffering from a malady
+which would certainly have grown more painful as time went on, and was
+probably incurable. This statement, since it supplied the motive,
+caused the inquiry to assume briefer limits than it might have done;
+the obvious inference was that the knowledge of his parlous state had
+prompted Graham Patterson to take his fate into his own hands. Nothing
+could have been clearer to such men of the world as the coroner and
+his jury. All else that was said and done was mere formality. The
+doctor who had conducted the autopsy, Mr. Andrews, a police officer
+connected with the railway company, the guard of the train--all these
+gave formal evidence. The latter said that he had seen the deceased
+man come running down the platform at Brighton station just as the
+train was about to start; that he had noticed him getting into a
+carriage; that he recognised him when, at East Croydon, his attention
+had been called to him by the ticket collector, who, going to collect
+his ticket, found him sitting up in the corner of the carriage, dead.
+In view of the physician's evidence, the whole affair was so
+transparently simple that no one thought of asking if anyone was in
+the compartment when he entered it at Brighton station. One of the
+jury did inquire if the train stopped between Brighton and East
+Croydon. When he was informed that it did not, it was generally felt
+that there was nothing more to be said. The hackneyed verdict was
+recorded as a matter of course--suicide while temporarily insane.
+
+The whole affair struck Rodney, when he learnt all the particulars
+from Andrews, as distinctly droll. He realised that he owed Mr. Wilkes
+a debt of gratitude of which that gentleman had no notion. The
+physician had been an unknown quantity; Rodney, who, through devious
+channels, had heard of a good many things, had never heard of him. Had
+not the lawyer brought him on to the scene the situation might easily
+have become very much more difficult--for him. He would not be so hard
+on Stephen Wilkes as he had meant to be, but in his treatment of him
+would recognise that, as Parmiter had put it, he was an able man.
+
+The will was the usual wordy, legal document. Stripped of its verbiage
+it was plain enough. It began with the legacies. A sufficient sum was
+to be set apart to buy an annuity of one hundred pounds a year for
+Agnes Sybil Armstrong, of an address at Hove. She was also to have
+five hundred pounds in cash and the furniture of the house in which
+she was residing.
+
+Gladys, who had been warned by Rodney that she might expect something
+of the kind, pursed her lips together and looked at her cousin.
+Sitting with expectant eyes fixed on her, he had been waiting for her
+look, and greeted it with a reassuring smile.
+
+Various legacies were left to servants in Russell Square, to clerks in
+St. Paul's Churchyard, and to certain trade charities. Five thousand
+pounds was left to Stephen Wilkes, in recognition of a life-long
+friendship and of valued services--the lawyer's voice was a trifle
+hesitant as he read this clause. One thousand pounds in cash and a
+tenth share in the business were left to Robert Fraser Andrews; and,
+since the testator's only child was a daughter, he directed that the
+said Andrews should be appointed manager of his business, under the
+conditions which followed.
+
+The whole residue of his estate, real and personal, he left to his
+daughter, Gladys, unreservedly. At this point the cousins again
+exchanged glances. Andrews was to manage the business for five years;
+at the end of that period, or in the event of his death, Gladys might
+appoint his successor, or dispose of the business, whichever she
+chose. No radical change in the conduct of the business was to be made
+without consulting her, and she was to have the right of veto. She was
+to have access to the accounts at all times, with right of comment.
+
+The testator went on to say that Stephen Wilkes had acted as his legal
+adviser for many years, and to express a strong wish that he would
+continue in that capacity for his daughter. He hoped that she would
+consult him freely, both in the conduct of the business and in her
+affairs generally, and act on his advice. He appointed Robert Fraser
+Andrews and Stephen Wilkes his executors.
+
+So soon as he had finished the reading of the will Mr. Wilkes
+observed:
+
+"In order to avoid misunderstanding, I wish to state that, since I
+have reason to believe that my services would not be welcome--and,
+indeed, learn that another solicitor has already been retained, whom I
+see present--I wish to withdraw at the earliest possible moment from
+all connection with Mr. Patterson's estate and affairs, and also that
+I renounce administration. I will not act as executor."
+
+When the lawyer stopped, Mr. Andrews had his say:
+
+"I'm very much in the same position as Mr. Wilkes. If Miss Patterson
+would rather I did not act as manager, I have not the slightest wish
+to press my claim. I'm given to understand, Miss Patterson, that Mr.
+Elmore here is likely to become your husband. From a conversation I
+had with him this morning, I--I'm inclined to think that I am older
+than I supposed, and that it would be to your advantage and to the
+advantage of the business that the management of affairs should be in
+his hands. Also, if you wish it, so as not to be a clog on you in any
+way, I will not act as executor."
+
+Rodney answered for his cousin:
+
+"You must act as executor, Mr. Andrews; Miss Patterson will very
+unwillingly release you from that duty. The other point she will
+discuss with you later; you will find that she is as anxious to
+consider your wishes as you are to consider hers. I may remark to you,
+Mr. Wilkes, as well as to Mr. Andrews, that Miss Patterson is grateful
+for the delicate thought which prompts your proposed action, and she
+will endeavour in all she does to show that she appreciates at its
+full value all that you have done for her father, and, by consequence,
+for her. I think, gentlemen, that, at present, that is all."
+
+The meeting was dissolved. The three gentlemen dismissed. The cousins
+were left together. Kneeling before the armchair on which Miss
+Patterson was seated, Rodney drew her towards him and kissed her with
+a sort of mock solemnity.
+
+"My congratulations, lady! if I may venture to kiss one who is now a
+person of property and importance. I hope you won't mind, but I almost
+wish, for my sake, that you hadn't quite so much money."
+
+She put out her hand and softly stroked his hair.
+
+"That's nonsense. How much money have I got?"
+
+"Roughly, I suppose that the business brings in four or five thousand
+a year, and you've forty or fifty thousand pounds in what represents
+cash. You're a rich woman."
+
+"Then, if you do marry me, you'll be a rich man."
+
+"There's one thing--put the business at its highwater mark, say that
+in its best year it brings in five thousand pounds--in ten years it
+shall bring in fifty thousand."
+
+"Rodney, don't be too speculative. We've enough to get along with;
+let's be sure of having a good time with what there is."
+
+"My dear lady, I'm no speculator--not such a fool; but I don't want to
+see a gold-mine producing only copper. You've twice the head your
+father had, and keener, because younger, eyes. Shortly I shall hope to
+lay my ideas before you; when you have assimilated them, you will be
+able to judge for yourself whether or not they're speculative. You'll
+see, what even old Andrews already sees, that you're the possessor of
+a gold-mine--a veritable gold-mine--which hitherto has been worked as
+if it were merely a copper-mine. When you begin to work it as a
+gold-mine, in less than ten years it will be bringing you in fifty
+thousand pounds a year; I shouldn't be surprised if it brings you
+twice as much--honestly."
+
+"A hundred thousand pounds a year, Rodney!"
+
+"Wait--you'll see! This is the age of miracles, which, when you look
+into them, have the simplest natural causes. Seriously, Gladys,
+there's no reason why, properly handled, the business of which
+you are now the sole proprietress--because you can easily get rid of
+Andrews--should not make you rich beyond the dreams of avarice. Wilkes
+has been quick in taking the hint, hasn't he?"
+
+"I don't like him--I never did. I think I shall like Mr. Parmiter much
+better."
+
+"I'm sure you will. He's an awfully good sort and as clever as they
+make them--and straight! He'll make your interests his own."
+
+There was a momentary pause. The gentleman was still kneeling in front
+of the armchair, and the lady was still stroking his hair. There was a
+look on her face which was half comical and half something else as she
+changed the topic.
+
+"Rodney, who's Agnes Sybil Armstrong?"
+
+"I don't know, and don't you ask. Let her have her hundred a year, and
+go hang!"
+
+"Does every man have an Agnes Sybil Armstrong?"
+
+"Emphatically no; only--I was going to say only men like your father,
+but perhaps you wouldn't like it."
+
+"I wonder--will you ever have one?"
+
+"Gladys! Lady, if a man loves one woman, that's all the feminine kind
+he'll ever want, especially--if she's a woman like you. Doesn't your
+instinct tell you that when you're my wife, I'll--be satisfied, in
+every sense?"
+
+"I hope so. If you weren't, I--I shouldn't like it."
+
+"I should say not. May I hope that there is some possibility of your
+being my wife?"
+
+"I have some ideas in that direction now, though on Saturday I thought
+I never should. How prophetic you were? You almost foretold what has
+happened--almost as if you saw it coming. Did you know that he was
+ill?"
+
+"I had a shrewd suspicion; but you don't suppose I foresaw what
+actually did happen?"
+
+"I dare say that yours was not the prophetic vision quite to that
+extent. I wonder why he didn't like you?"
+
+"I'm nearly sure that with him it was a case of Dr. Fell--the reason
+why he couldn't tell. When you came on the scene he hated me because
+you didn't."
+
+"Didn't you do anything to ruffle him--to rub him the wrong way?"
+
+"Never--consciously. I've a notion--it's only a notion, but my notions
+are apt to be pretty near the mark--that he had some idea of marrying
+you to Mr. Stephen Wilkes."
+
+"Rodney! Good gracious! What a notion!"
+
+"As I remarked, it's only a notion; but I can put two and two
+together, and something in the gentleman's manner this morning put the
+crown on my suspicions."
+
+"I'd rather have died."
+
+"Or married me? Well--do! How soon could you make it convenient?"
+
+"How soon would you like it to be?"
+
+"This is Monday. Say Thursday--next?"
+
+"Rodney! How can you?"
+
+"Then make it Friday--if you've no prejudice against the day."
+
+"I'll never be married on a Friday."
+
+"Then postpone it to that far-off date, Saturday, or even Monday. I
+don't know if you want a smart wedding; if you do, what indefinite
+postponement may the conventions require?"
+
+"I don't want a smart wedding."
+
+"That sounds hopeful. You're all I want; I don't know if I'm all you
+want."
+
+"Well; you are one thing."
+
+"Am I? Thanks--you have a nice way. I tell you what, I'll get a
+special licence--hang the expense--and we'll be married on Monday."
+
+"I won't be married in black, and I will have one bridesmaid; I'll
+have Cissie Henderson. She's my particular friend; she likes you;
+she's been on our side all through; and she'll strain a point--when
+I've put it to her as I shall, she'll have to. As a matter of fact, I
+believe she'll love to."
+
+"And Clarence Parmiter shall be my best man, and old Andrews shall
+give you away."
+
+"I don't know about old Andrews."
+
+"Then old Andrews shan't! So long as I get you I don't care who gives
+you away; if it comes to that, we'll make it worth the verger's while.
+Then we'll go off for a whole month, and have a rare old spree."
+
+"That sounds inviting."
+
+"And while we're away Andrews and Parmiter between them shall get
+things ship-shape; and when we come back, under her majesty's
+directions I shall put my shoulder to the wheel and start making her
+the richest woman in the world--and the happiest."
+
+"The conceit of him! Mind you do make me happy. Will you?"
+
+"Don't you think I shall?"
+
+"If I hadn't hopes in that direction you--wouldn't be where you are."
+
+"Where shall we go to?"
+
+"Wherever you like."
+
+"Then----"
+
+He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. She put her arms about his
+neck and drew him to her.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XV
+
+                             MABEL JOYCE
+
+
+When Rodney Elmore got back to his rooms it was somewhat late. Some
+letters were on the table in his sitting-room, and a telegram from
+Stella Austin. One of those voluminous telegrams which women send when
+they are in no mood to consider that each unnecessary word means
+another halfpenny. It was, indeed, a little letter, in which she
+expressed both sympathy and disappointment. She was so sorry to hear
+the bad news about his uncle, and assured him--with apparent disregard
+of the fact that the message might possibly pass through several
+persons' hands--that he had much better come to her if he was able,
+since she would console him as nobody else could.
+
+"I shall be terribly disappointed if you do not come," it went on, "so
+please do come. There are heaps of things I wish to say to you--simply
+heaps. So mind, Rodney, dear, you are to come some time this evening,
+and you are to let nothing keep you away from your own Stella."
+
+It was a love-letter which this young lady had flashed across the
+wires at a halfpenny a word, evidently caring nothing if strangers
+learned what was in her heart so long as he did. He was still
+considering it when Miss Joyce came into the room with a decanter and
+a glass upon a tray.
+
+"Miss Austin's been to see you," she observed. "I suppose that
+telegram's from her."
+
+"Did she tell you it was from her?"
+
+"She came in and looked about her at pretty nearly everything, and saw
+it lying on the table, and said she'd sent you a telegram, and
+supposed that was it. I thought she was going to walk off with it, but
+she didn't. I expected she'd want to stop till you came in, as Miss
+Patterson did last night, but I told her I knew you'd an important
+engagement in the City, and knew you wouldn't be in till very late; so
+she went."
+
+"Thank you; I'm glad she didn't stay."
+
+"I thought you would be. She asked me if I was the servant. I don't
+think she liked the look of me."
+
+There was something in his attitude which suggested that he was
+expecting her to leave the room, and would have liked her to. When she
+showed no sign of going he commented on her last remark.
+
+"That was rather bad taste on her part."
+
+"Wasn't it?"
+
+Having done with the telegram, he began to examine the letters. She
+watched him with an expression in her pale blue eyes which, if he had
+been conscious of it, might have startled him. It was plain from his
+manner that he intended to offer her no encouragement either to
+continue the conversation or to remain in the room. After a
+perceptible interval, she said, with an abruptness which was a little
+significant:
+
+"I was at the inquest."
+
+He glanced up.
+
+"You were where? At the inquest? Oh! What was the attraction? And how
+did you get in?"
+
+"I believe the public are admitted to inquests. They're supposed to be
+public inquiries, aren't they? Also, I had a friend at court; and,
+anyhow, I wasn't the only person there. I suppose Miss Patterson is a
+rich woman now."
+
+"She'll have money."
+
+"Are you going to marry her?"
+
+"Why do you ask?"
+
+"Or are you going to marry Miss Austin?"
+
+"Pray why do you ask that?"
+
+"When Miss Patterson was here last night I thought there was an air
+about her as if she considered you her property; when Miss Austin was
+here this evening I thought the same thing of her. Odd, wasn't it?"
+
+"The only thing odd about it, my dear Mabel, is that you should have
+such a vivid imagination. Both these ladies are old friends of mine."
+
+"Old friends, are they? In what sense? In the sense that I'm an old
+friend?"
+
+"No one could be nicer than you have been."
+
+"I see. Have they been nice to you like that?"
+
+"My dear Mabel, in what quarter sits the wind? Where's Mrs. Joyce?"
+
+"Mother's out; she's going to stay at aunt's till to-morrow. You and I
+are alone together."
+
+"Good business! Come and give me a kiss."
+
+"No, don't touch me; I won't have it."
+
+"There is something queer about the wind! What's wrong? Is there
+anything wrong?"
+
+"I'm trying to tell you. It's not easy, but I'm going to tell you if
+you'll give me a chance."
+
+"You've some bee in your bonnet. Let me get it out."
+
+"You give me a chance, I say! I tried to tell you last night, but I
+couldn't. But I'm going to tell you now; I've got to!"
+
+"Have you? Couldn't you tell me a little closer, instead of standing
+all that distance off?"
+
+"I wouldn't come nearer for--for anything."
+
+"Mabel! After all these years!"
+
+"Yes, after all these years! How long have you been here?"
+
+"I never had a memory for dates."
+
+"More than four years you have been here."
+
+"So long as that? And it hasn't seemed a day too long."
+
+"I was a kid in short skirts when you first came."
+
+"And a very pretty kid you were. Almost as pretty even then as you are
+now."
+
+"Rodney, have you ever cared for me a little bit?"
+
+"Have I ever cared? Haven't I shown it?"
+
+"Shown it? You call that showing it? My word!"
+
+"What is the matter with the girl? I've never seen you like this
+before."
+
+"Suppose--something was going to happen?"
+
+"Well, isn't something always going to happen? What especially awful
+thing are you afraid is going to happen?"
+
+"Suppose--something was going to happen--to me--because of you?
+Suppose--I was going----"
+
+Her voice died away, her eyes fell.
+
+"You don't mean that----"
+
+"I do."
+
+"Good God! It's--it's impossible!"
+
+"Why is it impossible? It's true."
+
+"But, my--my dear girl, it can't be."
+
+"Why can't it be? It is."
+
+"But--you're not sure. How can you be sure? You know, my dear Mabel,
+how you do fancy things. I'll bet ten to one that you're mistaken."
+
+"Do you suppose that I haven't tried to make myself think that I'm
+mistaken? I wouldn't believe it. But it's no use pretending any
+longer; it's sure. What are you going to do?"
+
+"What am I going to do? That's--that's a nice brick to aim at a fellow
+without the slightest warning."
+
+"I'm sorry; I can't help it; I must know. What are you going to do?"
+
+"My dear girl, you know that you've no more actual knowledge on such a
+subject than I have. I hope--and I think it's very possible--that you
+are wrong. Let's, first of all, make sure."
+
+"Very well--we'll make sure. And when we've made sure what are you
+going to do--if it is sure?"
+
+"We'll discuss that when we've made sure. Give me a chance to think;
+you've had one. It seems that you've guessed, goodness knows how long.
+Give me a chance to get my thoughts into order."
+
+"I can't wait; I must know now. What are you going to do--if it is
+sure?"
+
+"I'll do everything that a man can do--you know that perfectly well.
+You've knocked the sense all out of me! Do give me a chance to think!
+Don't look at me with that stand-and-deliver air! Come here, old lady,
+and let me kiss those pretty eyes of yours; I can't bear to have them
+look like that."
+
+"Don't touch me--don't dare! You say you'll do everything a man can
+do. Does that mean you'll marry me?"
+
+"Marry you! Mabel!"
+
+"Don't you mean that you will marry me?"
+
+"My dear girl, it's--it's impossible!"
+
+"Why is it impossible? Are you married already?"
+
+"Good Lord, no!"
+
+"Then why can't you marry me?"
+
+"As if you didn't know!"
+
+"What do I know?"
+
+"As if there weren't a thousand reasons! As if you weren't almost as
+well posted in my financial position as I am myself! As if you didn't
+know how hard I've found it to pay my way--that, in fact, I haven't
+paid it! If I were to marry you, financially there'd be an end of me;
+and in every other way! Not only should I be worse than penniless, but
+there'd be absolutely no prospect of my ever being anything else."
+
+"I shouldn't be worse off as your wife than I am now."
+
+"Oh, wouldn't you? You would; don't you make any error! I've never
+said a word to you about marriage."
+
+"That's true, nor should I have said it to you if it hadn't been for
+this."
+
+"There you are--that's frank. There's been no deception on either
+side. After all that there's been between us don't let's have any
+unpleasantness, for both our sakes. I'm as sorry for the position to
+which we've managed to bring things as you can be; you must know I am.
+At present I'm stony, but shortly I hope to have the command of plenty
+of money."
+
+"Are you going to get it from Miss Patterson or Miss Austin?"
+
+"What does it matter where it comes from?"
+
+"So far as I'm concerned it matters a good deal."
+
+"It'll be my own money."
+
+"If you'll have so much money of your own why can't you marry me?"
+
+"If I do marry you I'll have no money?"
+
+"Are you going to get it with your wife? Which wife?"
+
+"I can understand how you're feeling, so I'll try not to mind your
+being bitter, though it isn't like you one scrap. I can only implore
+you to trust me, to leave it all to me; I'll arrange everything. If
+you're right in what you fear you'll find a place ready for you when
+the time comes, in which you'll be comfortable, in which you'll have
+everything you want, and when it's over, if you like you can come home
+again, and no one will be one whit the wiser, and you won't be an atom
+the worse. It's done every day."
+
+"Is it? And the child--what about the child?"
+
+"The child? If it is my child----"
+
+"If? if? if? What do you mean by 'if'? You'd better be careful,
+Rodney, what you are saying. What do you mean by 'if'?"
+
+"My dear girl, it was only a way of speaking."
+
+"Then don't you speak that way. 'If' it is your child! When you knew me
+I was innocent, and I'm innocent now except for you. Don't you dare to
+say if! You know it is your child!"
+
+"My dear girl, of course I know it's my child. You won't let a fellow
+finish what he is going to say. I was only going to say that the child
+shall want for nothing; it shall have everything a child can have. So
+shall you; you'll be much better off than if you were my wife."
+
+"If the child is born, and I am not your wife, I'll kill myself--and
+it. Or, rather, if I'm not going to be your wife, I'll kill myself
+before it's born, as sure as you are alive."
+
+"Mabel, don't talk like that--don't! I can't bear it. If you only knew
+how it hurts!"
+
+"Hurts! As if anything hurts you! Nothing could hurt you, nothing;
+you're not built that way. Do you suppose that I don't know what kind
+of man you are--that you're an all-round bad lot?"
+
+"To say a thing like that, after pretending to care for me!"
+
+"Pretending! There wasn't much pretence about my caring; I proved it.
+You wouldn't let me rest until I did. Not only did I care for you, but
+I do care for you; and I shall continue to care for you as long as I
+live. No other man can ever be to me what you have been."
+
+"That's more like the Mabel I know."
+
+"But don't imagine that I'm under any delusion about you; you'll know
+better by the time I've done. You're the kind of man who's not to be
+trusted with a girl. You make love to every woman you meet--what you
+call love! You're entangled with no end of women. I know! I don't know
+how many think you're going to marry them, but I shouldn't be
+surprised if Miss Patterson and Miss Austin both think you are. If I
+were to go and tell them, do you think they'd marry you? Not they;
+they're not that sort."
+
+"But you won't tell them. You're not that sort either. I, perhaps,
+know you better than you know yourself."
+
+"It's this way. Even you mayn't know who you're going to marry, but I
+do. You're going to marry me."
+
+"I wish I were. I'll admit so much. But--we can't always do what we
+wish, my dear."
+
+"You can, and do; that's what makes you dangerous--at first to others,
+in the end to yourself. Rodney, I don't want to say something which
+will change the whole face of the world for both of us, but I'll have
+to if you make me. Don't you make me! Say you'll marry me."
+
+"My dear child----"
+
+"Don't talk like that to me; don't you do it! You're duller than I
+thought, or long before this you'd have seen what I was driving at.
+Now, you listen to me; I'll tell you. To-day I was at the inquest."
+
+"That fact, I assure you, in spite of my dullness, I have appreciated
+already. What I still fail to understand is what the attraction was."
+
+"Attraction! You call it an attraction! You wait. I've always
+thought that an inquest was to find out the truth, not to hide it up.
+The idea of that one seemed to be to conceal, not to reveal. The
+coroner was an old idiot, as blind as a bat. He'd got a notion into
+his head, and as there wasn't room for more than one at a time--why,
+there it was! I went there knowing nothing, guessing nothing,
+suspecting nothing. The inquest hadn't hardly begun before I saw
+everything, knew everything, understood everything. But the coroner,
+the jury, and the witnesses--they knew less at the end than the
+beginning."
+
+"Your words suggest that nature erred in making you a pretty girl, and
+therefore incompetent to be a coroner."
+
+"According to the guard of the train, your uncle was found sitting up
+in a corner of the carriage, with a box in his hand, in which were
+some of the things with which he is supposed to have poisoned himself.
+The box was handed round for the coroner and jury to look at. Directly
+I saw it I knew it."
+
+If Elmore changed countenance it was only very slightly, and the
+change went as quickly as it came; yet one felt that for an instant it
+had been there.
+
+"Is that so? What sort of box was it? It must have been something
+rather out of the common run of boxes for you to have recognised it at
+what, I take it, was some little distance."
+
+"I was close enough, close enough to take it in my hand if I had
+wanted; and it was all that I could do to keep my hand from off it.
+And it was very much what you call out of the common run of boxes. It
+was a silver box, Chinese, with Chinese engraving on it, about an inch
+and a half long, round, and a little thicker than a fountain pen."
+
+"You seem to have observed it pretty closely."
+
+"It was not the first time I'd seen it. The first time I saw it it was
+on your dressing-table."
+
+Again, if Elmore's expression altered, it was only as if a flickering
+something had come and gone in his eyes.
+
+"You may have seen a box like it on my dressing-table. You certainly
+never saw the one you saw this morning."
+
+"The box was on your dressing-table. I picked it up and asked you what
+it was. You said you believed it was a Chinese sweetmeat box. I said
+that if it was it did not hold many sweets. You laughed and said it
+was very old, and that you believed it came from Pekin, and that some
+of the carvings on it were Chinese characters, but you didn't know
+what they meant. I opened it. Inside it were some of the white things
+which were in it when they handed it round this morning. I asked you
+if they were sweets. You said that those who wanted a long, long sleep
+would find them sweet enough; and you took the box from me as you said
+it. I thought there was something queer about you and the box, and
+when you put it down for a moment I picked it up again, and, with
+some scissors which were on the table, scratched some marks on the
+bottom--I myself hardly know why. But when I saw that box this morning
+it was all I could do to keep from asking the coroner if they were on
+the bottom. I could describe them perfectly; I should know them again.
+I can see them now."
+
+"What a vivid imagination you have, and what powers of observation!
+Even granting that, by some odd coincidence, that box was my box,
+what's the inference you draw from it, when the simple explanation is
+that it was a present to my uncle from his affectionate nephew?"
+
+"I daresay it was a present, but not in the sense you mean. You went
+to Brighton yesterday by the Pullman, but you didn't come back by it."
+
+"Pray, who is your informant, and what's the relevancy to your
+previous remarks?"
+
+"George Dale, who has the bed-sitting-room upstairs, and who cares for
+me in a different way to what you do, because he wants me to be his
+wife."
+
+"Then why the--something don't you oblige him? Isn't he respectable?"
+
+"Oh, he's respectable."
+
+"Then could there be a sounder proposition? A man who loves you, who
+would be all that a husband ought to be! I tell you what, on the day
+you marry him an unknown benefactor will settle on you a thousand
+pounds--something like a fortune."
+
+"You can talk to me like that, knowing what you know! After what
+you've done to me you want to pass me on to someone else. That
+finishes it! Now you listen. George Dale's a booking clerk at Victoria
+Station. He recognised you, though you didn't him."
+
+"Quite possibly, if he was on the other side of the peep-hole, and
+seeing that I've only seen him two or three times in my life."
+
+"He gave you your ticket for the Pullman. All the seats are numbered;
+he made a note of your number. Your ticket wasn't among those which
+were given up by the passengers who came back by the Pullman, but it
+was among those which were collected from the train which reached
+Victoria at 11.30. The guard saw you get into the train at Redhill
+Station. You got into a first-class compartment with a little man. You
+two were the only first-class passengers who got in at Redhill, so he
+took particular notice. You were in the London Bridge part of the
+train. At East Croydon someone else got into your compartment. You got
+out and went back to the Victoria part. The guard, shutting your
+carriage door, took particular notice of you again."
+
+"Your friend the guard appears to be as quick to observe as he is to
+impart the fruits of his observation."
+
+"He wasn't my friend, only Mr. Dale introduced me to him, and he was
+kind enough to answer a question or two. Mr. Dale also introduced me
+to the guard of the train in which your uncle was. I asked him if it
+stopped anywhere. He thought a bit, and then said that it did once,
+for about a minute, in Redhill tunnel, because the signal was against
+it. I haven't made inquiries yet, but I shouldn't be surprised if
+someone saw you get into your uncle's train at Brighton. As that train
+stopped in Redhill tunnel, it's not hard to understand how, or why,
+you got into another train a little later at Redhill Station."
+
+"You surprise me, Mabel. I hadn't a ghost of an idea that you had such
+a genius for ferreting."
+
+"It's easy enough. If that coroner hadn't had a notion in his head
+when he started, he might have got at the facts as easily as I have."
+
+"And, from what you call the facts, what is the inference you draw?
+What dreadful charge against me have you been formulating in your
+mind?"
+
+"Rodney, a wife can't give evidence against her husband in a charge of
+murder."
+
+"I believe I have heard as much. And then?"
+
+"I'm the only creature in the world who has any suspicion. If you
+marry me you're safe."
+
+"You, pretending to love me, can marry the sort of man you believe I
+am?"
+
+"It is because I do love you that I am willing to marry you, knowing
+you to be the kind of man you are.
+
+"Your standard of morality is not a high one."
+
+"It's what you've made it."
+
+"Mabel, while you have got parts of your story right, the inferences
+you draw from it are all wrong; but I'm not going to attempt any
+denials."
+
+"I shouldn't; lies won't help you--not with me."
+
+"So you also think that I'm a liar?"
+
+"I'm sure of it; you're a born liar. Sometimes I don't believe you
+know yourself if you are speaking the truth."
+
+"One thing I've learnt this evening--that you're a born actress. I am
+speaking the absolute truth when I assure you that I never for one
+second dreamt that you had the opinion of me you seem to have."
+
+"I never really began to understand you myself till last night. Just
+before you came in Mr. Dale had gone to bed. He told me, as he went
+upstairs, that your uncle had been found dead in the Brighton train,
+and that you had gone to Brighton in the Pullman; and he wondered,
+laughing, if it was you who had killed him. Then Miss Patterson came
+with her air of owning you, and you came and went out with her again
+as with one whom you were going to make your wife, and something
+happened inside my head and I began to understand. All night I
+scarcely slept for thinking, and in the morning, somehow, I knew; and
+all day I have been learning much more, until now I know you--for the
+man you are."
+
+"My dear Mabel, one thing I do see plainly, that you're not very well,
+that your nerves are out of order, and play you tricks. Let's both
+turn in. I, for one, am tired, and I'm sure that a good night's rest
+will do you good; and to-morrow we'll continue our talk where it left
+off."
+
+"Rodney, you'll give me at once a written promise of marriage, or I'll
+communicate with Inspector Harlow, and in the morning you'll be
+charged with murder."
+
+"Do you wish me to suppose that you are speaking seriously?"
+
+"We'll be married at a registrar's--it doesn't matter where, so long
+as we are married, and at a registrar's it's quickest. You can get a
+licence for L2 3s. 6d.; I'll get it, I've enough money for that, and
+then the day after you can be married. If I get the licence to-morrow
+we can be married on Thursday--and we will."
+
+"We can be married on Thursday, can we, you and I? This sounds like
+comic opera, and, as the song says, 'When we are married, what shall
+we do?'"
+
+"You can do as you please. I shall have my marriage lines, and that's
+all I care about."
+
+"So you propose to haul me to the registrar, and chain me to you, and
+souse me in the gutter, and ruin my career, and render life not worth
+living, not because you've any special ambition for yourself, nor even
+because you crave for the sweets of my society, but in order that you
+may have somewhere locked up in a drawer what you call your marriage
+lines. This seems to me like using a steam hammer to crack a nut."
+
+"I've got a sheet of paper; you sit down and write what I tell you."
+
+She laid on the table a sheet of paper which she had taken out of her
+blouse. As he looked at it he laughed.
+
+"Stamped--a sixpenny stamp, as I'm a sinner! Do you know, my dear,
+that this is a bill form which you've got here, good for any amount up
+to fifty pounds. Wherever did you get the thing? And what use do you
+suppose it is to you? What a practical-minded child it is! And I never
+guessed it till now! Tis a wonderful world that we live in!"
+
+"You get a pen and write."
+
+He took a fountain pen and a blotting pad from a table at the side,
+and spread out on the latter the crumpled bill stamp.
+
+"Here we are. Now for the writing. 'Three months after date I promise
+to pay.' Is that the sort of thing I'm to write?"
+
+"You write what I tell you."
+
+"Tell on; I'm waiting."
+
+"Write: 'I, Rodney Elmore, promise to marry on Thursday next Mabel
+Joyce, who is about to bear a child of which I am the father.' Have
+you got that? Why aren't you writing?"
+
+"Before I start I want to see the finish; that is, I want to know all
+that I am to write."
+
+"Except your signature and the date, that is all."
+
+"Rather a considerable all, eh? What use do you suppose this will be
+to you when you've got it?"
+
+"That's my business."
+
+"What do you propose to do with it?"
+
+"Nothing. If you marry me I'll give it you before we leave the
+registrar's."
+
+"And if I don't?"
+
+"You'll be in gaol."
+
+"I see; that's it. If I don't write I'm in the cart, and if I do write
+and don't marry I'm also in the cart."
+
+"I'm fighting for my life."
+
+"And I lose mine either way."
+
+"How do you make that out? Who's there to be afraid of except me?"
+
+"If I do marry you I might as well be dead, and if I don't you'll do
+your best to bring my death about."
+
+She was silent. They eyed each other, she standing at one side of the
+table, he sitting at the other. In the white-faced woman, with the
+rigid features and close-set lips, who looked at him with such
+unfaltering gaze, he scarcely recognised the pretty, dainty, blue-eyed
+girl whom it seemed only yesterday he had wooed and won. He was
+sufficiently a physiognomist and student of character to be aware that
+this woman meant every word she said. As this knowledge was borne more
+clearly in on him a curious something came into his own eyes--the
+something which had been there last night in the train. He spoke very
+softly.
+
+"Mabel?"
+
+Her voice fell as his had done.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"We are alone together in the house, you and I."
+
+"We are; as you were alone with your uncle in the railway carriage."
+
+"Why shouldn't I serve you as you persist in hinting that I served
+him? What reason is there?"
+
+"None."
+
+"Then--why shouldn't I?"
+
+"You can."
+
+"I can--what?"
+
+"Kill me."
+
+"Knowing me, as you pretended to know me, you're not afraid?"
+
+"I shall never be afraid of you."
+
+"You seem to flatter me all at once."
+
+"I don't care what you do to me. I'd rather you killed me than not
+marry me--much."
+
+"You wouldn't be so easy to explain. You'd want a lot of explaining if
+they found you dead."
+
+When he stopped she was still looking at him with eyes which never
+flinched. He went on:
+
+"You wouldn't be difficult to manage."
+
+"I shouldn't resist. If you broke my head to pieces with the poker I
+wouldn't make a sound."
+
+"The poker? Not such a fool! He would be sanguine who hoped to explain
+a poker."
+
+He had been sitting back in his chair; now, leaning forward, he rested
+his arms on the table.
+
+"Suppose I had another of those things which were in the silver box.
+If I gave it to you would you take it?"
+
+"No."
+
+Her face had become all at once so pale that her very lips seemed
+white.
+
+"I should have to go through the form of making you."
+
+"You would have to do to me what you did to your uncle."
+
+"And if I did, what then?--what then?"
+
+If he expected an answer it did not come. She stood confronting him,
+so immobile that she scarcely seemed to breathe. The smile was on his
+face which had seemed the night before to give it such unpleasant
+significance, as if unholy thoughts were chasing each other through
+his mind.
+
+"I'll be frank with you."
+
+If he expected her to speak he was again disappointed.
+
+"If I could explain you--I'd do it, but I don't see how I could. How
+can I? Suggest an explanation."
+
+"You won't kill me; you dare not. You only killed your uncle because
+you thought you wouldn't be found out."
+
+"You think that was the only reason? You don't think that I had a
+choice of evils, and that I merely chose what seemed to be the
+lesser?"
+
+"I wonder why you killed him?"
+
+"In your case you wouldn't wonder?"
+
+"Was it because of Miss Patterson?"
+
+"As how?"
+
+"Because you've treated her as you've treated me, and her father found
+out. If I thought--if I thought---- Take that paper and write on it
+what I told you--now! now! now!"
+
+"And if I don't?"
+
+"If you don't kill me--and you won't, you're afraid--I'll have you
+hanged!"
+
+"So with you also it is a choice of evils."
+
+"Write what I told you--write it----"
+
+She had raised her voice nearly to a scream. All at once she was
+still, leaving her sentence unfinished. There were sounds without of a
+key being put in a lock, of a door being opened, of steps in the
+passage. She spoke in a whisper, hurriedly, eagerly, and the fashion
+of her countenance was changed:
+
+"That's Mr. Dale come back from the station. If you don't write what I
+told you now, I'll call him in--I will!"
+
+He also spoke in a whisper, and in some subtle fashion his countenance
+was also changed:
+
+"Mabel, don't--don't be hard on me."
+
+"Then write, write what I told you; write it now. If I do call him in
+it'll be too late. Write!"
+
+He drew the bill stamp towards him and picked up the fountain pen. His
+air was more than a trifle sullen.
+
+"What am I to write?"
+
+"You know perfectly well. Write: 'I, Rodney Elmore, promise to marry
+on Thursday next Mabel Joyce, who is about to bear a child of which I
+am the father.' Write that. Now sign it, put your name at the bottom,
+and the date. I'll blot it."
+
+Drawing the pad to her she blotted what Elmore had written; then,
+after a glance at what was on it, began to return it to her blouse,
+while the young gentleman sat and watched.
+
+"I'm going to put this into an envelope with a note I'm going to
+write, and give it to Mr. Dale, and tell him to keep it for me till I
+ask for it; and if I don't ask for it he'll know why."
+
+"So, in writing that, I have not only put myself in your power, but
+also in Mr. Dale's."
+
+"I tell you that if you do marry me on Thursday I'll give it you again
+before we leave the registrar's; but if for any cause you don't, even
+if you put me out of the way, Mr. Dale will see that you are made to
+smart."
+
+A voice was heard calling to her without:
+
+"Miss Joyce."
+
+She replied to it.
+
+"All right, Mr. Dale. You'll find your supper all ready for you in the
+parlour; I'm coming now."
+
+She went, the bill form inside her blouse. Mr. Elmore was left to his
+own reflections. He remained just as she had left him, leaning
+forward, his arms upon the table, looking with unblinking eyes
+straight in front of him, as if he hoped to find in space an answer to
+a problem which was difficult to solve.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XVI
+
+                        THOMAS AUSTIN, SENIOR
+
+
+Miss Joyce came into Mr. Elmore's bedroom the next morning before he
+was out of it. As a matter of fact, he was arranging his tie before
+the looking-glass with that nice care which is becoming to a young
+gentleman of looks.
+
+"There's a gentleman come to see you--a Mr. Austin. I should say from
+the look of him that he's the father of the Miss Austin who was here
+last evening."
+
+"The thing is possible."
+
+"I don't know what he's come about."
+
+"It's conceivable that you soon will know if you keep your ear close
+enough to my sitting-room door. Mr. Austin has rather a hearty way of
+speaking."
+
+"Don't you talk to me like that! You know I've never played the spy on
+you yet, and you know I never will. But don't you make any mistake
+about last night. Mr. Dale's got that paper you wrote and my letter in
+a sealed envelope, and if you don't turn up on Thursday you'll be
+sorry."
+
+"Thank you so much for the information. Now, let me clearly
+understand. If, as you put it, I do turn up on Thursday, what is going
+to happen--after the ceremony?"
+
+"All I want is my marriage lines. I'm coming straight back home; you
+can do as you like."
+
+"If I like can I go through a similar ceremony with Miss Jones or Miss
+Brown?"
+
+"If I thought you were going to be up to any game of that sort
+I'd--I'd----"
+
+"Yes--you'd what?"
+
+"I'd go and talk to your Mr. Austin to begin with. Don't you get any
+ideas of that kind in your head; don't you try it on."
+
+"I've no intention of, as you again put it, 'trying it on,' not I. I
+only wondered. Then, at least, you won't insist on the position being
+made instantly public?"
+
+"I don't care if it's made public or not. All I want is my marriage
+lines--when the time comes."
+
+"And you quite understand that, whatever the relations may be, from
+the legal point of view, in which we stand to each other, you'll get
+no money out of me, for the sufficient reason that I shall have none
+to give you."
+
+"I don't want your money. I don't want anything from you except that
+one thing; and--and--mind you do turn up!"
+
+"I've been thinking things over in the silent watches of the night,
+and I've quite decided that I will turn up."
+
+"Mind you do!"
+
+"I will, I will; be assured I will. Now I believe I'm ready. I was
+thinking of troubling you to tell Mr. Austin that I'll be with him in
+a second, but I'll save you that trouble."
+
+"Mind----"
+
+Standing by the door she was beginning a sentence. He cut her short.
+
+"All right, my dear; I'll mind. Would you mind getting out of the
+way?"
+
+She moved aside to let him pass. He went down the stairs to his
+sitting-room below, quickly, lightly, humming a tune as he went, as if
+he had not a care in the world; and with a face which was all sunshine
+he entered his visitor's presence.
+
+"My dear Rodney, this is an unconventional hour at which to pay a
+call, but I didn't think that in my case you'd mind about conventions,
+and I thought that, as I didn't get a chance of speaking to you last
+night, I'd have a few words with you before you started for the City.
+I suspect that I needn't tell you that I was glad to hear the news
+from Stella."
+
+The speaker was a short, sturdily-built, fresh-coloured man, probably
+somewhere in the fifties, whose neatly trimmed beard was a shade
+whiter than his hair. A pair of bright eyes looked out from behind
+gold-rimmed spectacles; about his whole appearance there was a
+suggestion of health, vigour, and clean living. He took both the young
+man's hands in his, looking up at him as at one whom he both esteemed
+and liked.
+
+"You're on the tall side. Stella always did like six-footers. I
+shouldn't wonder if that's the main reason why she's contracted a
+fondness for you."
+
+Rodney laughed.
+
+"It's very good of you, sir, to look me up in this unceremonious way.
+You must join me at breakfast."
+
+"On this occasion I've been an earlier bird than you--I've
+breakfasted--but I will join you in a cup of coffee."
+
+Rodney rang the bell. Miss Joyce entered with the breakfast on a tray.
+As she was placing the various articles on the table the two men
+scarcely spoke. The young man was examining the outsides of three or
+four letters which the morning post had brought; the elder, who had
+taken up his position before the fireplace, was for the most part
+observing Miss Joyce. When she had gone he said:
+
+"That's not a bad-looking young woman. Who is she?"
+
+"She's the landlady's daughter."
+
+"Don't they keep a servant?"
+
+"I fancy they do at intervals, someone who does the rougher work; but
+I'm out all day, and I never see her. So far as I'm concerned, either
+the mother or the daughter does the waiting."
+
+"Are you the only lodger?"
+
+"Oh, no; there's another man upstairs, who's by way of being a booking
+clerk or something. I rather fancy he has an eye in her direction."
+
+"Is that so? Then perhaps that's what worries her. I never saw a young
+girl with a whiter face, or one with such an odd look in her eyes. It
+quite troubled me."
+
+"How are you, sir? Though I don't think I need ask."
+
+"No, you needn't. As always, I'm in the enjoyment of vulgar health;
+nothing ever seems to ail me, though in saying so perhaps I ought to
+touch wood. When I heard from Stella yesterday morning I made up my
+mind that I would come up to town at once and say what I had to say by
+word of mouth, instead of putting it on paper. I arrived in the
+afternoon, hoping to see you in the evening; but I didn't. I can tell
+you that Stella was very badly disappointed. I think she was
+unreasonable; but girls are! You'll have to make your peace to-day. I
+daresay you won't find it very difficult. This is very bad news about
+your uncle. I see the inquest is in the morning's paper."
+
+"Is it, sir? As yet I haven't seen a paper."
+
+"From what I can gather he was suffering from some form of malignant
+disease, and, it seems, in a fit of despair, took his own life. Poor
+fellow! It's easy to judge such cases, but I often feel that God, who
+is love, understands and pardons. I hope I'm saying nothing that I
+ought not to say. Mrs. Austin will have it that I oughtn't to talk
+like that, but that's how I do feel. Will his death make any
+difference to you?"
+
+"Do you mean has he left me anything? No, sir; not a penny."
+
+"What becomes of the business?"
+
+"According to the will it's to be carried on by the managing man for
+the benefit of those mentioned in the will."
+
+"Of whom you're not one?"
+
+"No, sir, I am not."
+
+"Then that makes what I have to say all the easier. I am glad to hear
+that you're going to be Stella's husband; Mrs. Austin is glad to hear
+it; I'm sure Tom will be glad to hear it--in fact, we're all of us
+glad to hear it."
+
+"It's very kind of you to say so, sir, considering what an ineligible
+son-in-law I am. Here is a letter from Tom this morning. Shall I open
+it and see what he says?"
+
+"You needn't. I've no doubt it conveys his congratulations in his own
+vernacular. I know Tom and his letters. There are some things about
+the governance of this world which I don't understand, which shows I
+am not omniscient. Experience teaches me that when a man has a son and
+a good business the son will have none of it, and can with difficulty
+be brought to believe that the business offers a good opening for him;
+whereas if a man has a son and no business, the son is apt to look
+upon it almost as a grievance that his father has no business in which
+to give him an opening. Instances of the kind are so common that I've
+nearly come to look upon them as illustrations of a general rule. Now,
+here am I, and there is Tom, and there's the business, producing, even
+in these competitive days, quite a comfortable number of thousands a
+year. Tom's a born optimist. The only time Eve seen him at all
+pessimistic is when I've suggested that those thousands might as well
+find their way into his pockets; then he's pessimism gone mad. He'd
+sooner raise sheep in Australia, or ranch in Manitoba, or do some
+other ridiculous thing. In fact, he once told me--in such matters he's
+frankness itself--that he'd rather sweep a crossing than be what he
+called imprisoned for life in the warehouse at Leicester. I'll do him
+this justice--that I believe his instincts are right, because I've
+never seen anything about him to lead me to suppose that in him are
+the makings of a business man. That's a pretty quandary for a man to
+be in who has a good business and an only son. Now, Rodney, I've
+always liked you. It's true that I've sometimes felt that a
+decent-looking young fellow occasionally finds it difficult to steer
+clear of quicksands which are represented by nice-looking persons of
+the opposite sex; but I've never had any tangible or serious charge
+to bring against you, and I've no doubt that when you're married
+there'll be only one woman in the world to you, and she will be your
+wife."
+
+As the speaker paused, apparently with the intention of giving the
+other an opening, Rodney said with a smile:
+
+"I'm at least glad, sir, that you've no tangible or serious charge to
+bring against me."
+
+"Well, no, I haven't. At the same time--however, we'll let bygones be
+bygones. I daresay I'd an eye for more than one pretty girl before I'd
+a Mrs. Austin. I do know you're clever, with great charm of manner. I
+sometimes wonder if your manners are not almost too charming; but
+then, I come of a stocky school--no one's ever accused an Austin of
+having a charming manner, and I quite realise that, as things are, in
+business personal charm's a valuable asset; and I've been frequently
+struck by the fact that you're the possessor of a singularly quick
+perception. I think you have what is in reality an instinct, but what
+is called on the Stock Exchange a 'nose.' Again, a thing which in a
+business man is well worth having."
+
+"You seem to have been observing me with unexpectedly flattering
+attention, sir."
+
+"Oh, I've had an eye on you for quite a while. I want you, when you
+are Stella's husband, to come into my business. If you turn out as I
+hope and expect, I'll make you a partner. I've been imprisoned in the
+warehouse all my life, so, as I would like to see more of the world,
+soon as you're ready to take my place I should like you to take it.
+How would that meet your views?"
+
+"Nothing could please me better, sir. I don't know where I shall find
+words with which to thank you even for the suggestion."
+
+"I want no thanks; I want deeds. I'm hopeful that the arrangement will
+turn out to our mutual advantage. Now, Rodney, tell me candidly do you
+love my girl?"
+
+"Let me put question for question. Do you think I'm the kind of man
+who would ask her to be my wife if I didn't?"
+
+"Then why didn't you ask her before?"
+
+"Mr. Austin, you're not quite fair to me."
+
+"How am I unfair?"
+
+"I've loved Stella ever--ever since we were boy and girl together.
+I've tried to break myself of loving her, but I haven't succeeded.
+I've never been able to dream of anyone but her as wife. You were a
+rich man; I was not only penniless, but without prospects. Over and
+over again I've been on the point of telling her what I felt, but I've
+checked myself. It hasn't been easy, but I've done it. I meant to wait
+till I'd some shadow of a right to ask her to be my wife, but last
+Saturday, when I saw her dear face, I--I couldn't hold myself in any
+longer, and that's the truth."
+
+"I'm glad you couldn't. While I'm quite aware that your sentiments do
+you honour, all the same I rather wish that you'd shown a little more
+of the perception with which I've credited you. Rodney, is there any
+reason why the marriage should be postponed?"
+
+"Mr. Austin, I haven't at the moment five pounds in the world to call
+my own. That's the only reason, so far as I'm concerned; but some
+fathers would think it a quite sufficient one."
+
+Mr. Austin's eyes twinkled behind his glasses as he settled his
+spectacles on his nose.
+
+"I suppose they would, if you look at it in that way. You don't paint
+your position too attractively."
+
+"It couldn't be worse than it is."
+
+"You're not in debt?"
+
+"Oh, I'm not in debt; I don't know who'd give me credit if I wanted
+it. I've just enough to live on, as it were, from hand to mouth; but,
+with all the goodwill in the world and all the management, I don't see
+how it's going to be enough for two."
+
+"I see. You put the position with some clearness. As you say, some
+fathers would think it a sufficient reason for postponement, but I'm
+not one of them. As you perhaps know, Stella has some means of her
+own."
+
+"Isn't that one of the reasons why I--I kept quiet for so long?"
+
+"And on her marriage I shall settle a further sum on her, besides
+making other arrangements. For instance, I shall, as I have said, be
+glad to receive you in my business, giving you at the commencement a
+salary which will enable you to contribute towards some of the
+expenses of a wife, with the prospect of a partnership in the early
+future. Now, do you see any reason why there should be any
+postponement so far as you're concerned?"
+
+"I shall be only too delighted to marry Stella next week."
+
+"Next week is a little early perhaps; but what do you say to next
+month?"
+
+"If I'm Stella's husband next month I shall be the happiest man in the
+world."
+
+He looked and sounded as if he meant it.
+
+"You understand that in matters of this sort it is the lady who has
+the final word, but you have my authority to tell Stella that if she
+can see her way to stand with you at the altar in a month or earlier,
+she will make her mother and father happy, to say nothing of you. Now
+suppose you come and spend the day with us?"
+
+"My dear sir! I must go to the City."
+
+"Meaning to your late uncle's office? Why? Can't you scribble a note
+as soon as you've finished breakfast, and make an end of that?"
+
+"It's impossible; I must go to-day."
+
+"Very well. Go to-day, and say you're not coming to-morrow, or ever
+again. Say good-bye."
+
+"I'm afraid that that wouldn't be playing the game. I ought to go, at
+any rate, till the end of the week."
+
+"Very well. Perhaps you're right in not wishing to leave them in the
+lurch, if the departure of such a junior clerk as I understand you are
+would be leaving them in the lurch. Then on Saturday you'll come down
+with me to Leicester, and on Monday I'll introduce you to the
+warehouse. It will be just as well that you should have a look round
+before you're actually installed."
+
+Here was Mr. Austin mapping out everything for him, as he had foreseen
+long ago would be the case if he ever committed himself to Stella;
+treating him as a puppet who would be content to dance when he pulled
+the strings. He had no doubt that Mrs. Austin would be ready to play
+the same motherly part in the management of his domestic affairs. He
+smiled as he thought of it. His would-be father-in-law went on:
+
+"I'm going to write to Mrs. Austin and wire to Tom; I want to arrange
+a little dinner for to-morrow in honour of a certain auspicious event.
+Stella tells me she wants you all to herself to-night, and I'm not to
+interfere. I don't know what she wants you for, I'm sure, but I've
+promised not to interfere. She'll pull a face when she sees you've not
+returned with me, so you come early; after disappointing her twice--on
+Sunday and last night--she'll think that you can't come too early."
+
+"I'll leave the office as early as I can--trust me for that!--rush
+back here, dress, and come right on."
+
+"Dress! You needn't dress! They're homely folk at Kensington, and
+Stella will excuse you; she won't want you to waste, in dressing,
+valuable time which might be spent with her. You come straight on from
+the office in your toil-stained garments. She'll want to know what
+time. Shall I say five? I dare say, at a pinch, you can manage to be
+in Kensington by five."
+
+Rodney considered. If he did go straight on from the office he would
+at least escape the risk of another heated discussion with Miss
+Joyce--that would be something.
+
+"Very well, sir; if Stella will forgive me coming as I am, as you say,
+all toil-stained, I'll try my best to be with her as near as possible
+to five."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XVII
+
+                     THE ACTING HEAD OF THE FIRM
+
+
+Mr. Austin and Rodney left the house together, and so disappointed
+Miss Joyce, who was waiting to have one or two last words with Mr.
+Elmore. Having parted from Mr. Austin, Rodney paid a few calls on his
+way to St. Paul's Churchyard.
+
+To begin with, he went into a jeweller's shop, and bought a ring set
+with pearls and diamonds--a simple, inexpensive trifle, which cost six
+pounds. It was designed for Stella's finger, and was to be her
+engagement ring.
+
+"It won't do," he said to himself, "for it to cost too much, for one
+of her inquiring family will want to know where I got the money from.
+She'll value it none the less because 'I can no more, though poor the
+offering be.'"
+
+Then he looked in at the offices of the White Star Steamship Company,
+and paid a deposit on a berth which he booked on a steamer which was
+to sail from Liverpool to New York on the following Thursday, booking
+it in the name of John Griffiths; then into the offices of the Royal
+Mail Steam Packet Company, where he booked a berth for the following
+Friday, from Southampton to Buenos Ayres, in the name of Charles
+Dickinson; then to the Cunard offices, where he booked for Saturday to
+New York, in the name of Adolphus Ridgway. Afterwards he visited the
+Bishop's Registry, in Doctors' Commons, and there, having made certain
+affidavits, received, in exchange for two sovereigns, a strip of paper
+which authorised him to marry Gladys Patterson, spinster, at any
+church in the London diocese. Thus prepared, as one might suppose, for
+more than one emergency, he paid still another call before proceeding
+to St. Paul's Churchyard--on Clarence Parmiter, solicitor. From him he
+wanted to know what forms it would be necessary to go through to
+enable Miss Patterson to draw on her late father's banking account.
+Mr. Parmiter explained that to do this it would be necessary, first of
+all, to prove Mr. Patterson's will--and it was not usual to do that,
+at any rate, till after the testator was buried. When, Mr. Parmiter
+asked, was the funeral to take place. In spite of himself, his visitor
+smiled; so fast had events come crowding on him that the fact that the
+dead man would have to be put into his grave had entirely escaped his
+notice--so far as he was aware, no arrangements for the funeral had
+been made of any sort or kind. Mr. Parmiter looked as if he felt that
+the smile with which this announcement was made was a little out of
+place. He said that probably Rodney would find that the matter had
+been arranged by one of the executors, or by Miss Patterson herself.
+If cash was wanted in the interim; if Miss Patterson and Mr. Andrews,
+as executor, would attend with him at a bank with which Mr. Patterson
+had an account, he did not doubt that arrangements might be made which
+would provide the lady with such advances as she required; and, of
+course, if she chose, she might instruct the bank to honour any
+cheques which he--Rodney Elmore--might draw, acting on her behalf.
+
+Mr. Elmore left his friend's chambers with a feeling strong upon him
+that the business of getting his uncle's money out of the bank was not
+going to be as simple as he had hoped it would be. Clarence Parmiter
+even told him that the bank would not now honour any cheque which
+Graham Patterson might have drawn while still alive. This he did feel
+was unreasonable; it rendered even forgery futile. If he could wait he
+did not doubt that matters would be perfectly all right; but--could he
+wait? If only certain difficulties could be smoothed away, and he was
+given time, he did not doubt that he would be able to load himself
+with money; but could they be smoothed away, even for a week? Danger
+threatened from so many quarters; he really had been such an utter
+fool. If he had only realised what a fool, he would have taken
+precious good care to walk more warily; he would have been a wiser and
+a better man. But wisdom after the event was easy; what he needed was
+to be ready at a moment's notice for whatever came. He had planned
+escape in three different directions on three following days--if
+he could only get away with enough money to count! There was that
+nest-egg which he had found in his uncle's drawer, but what was that
+to a man in his plight? What he wanted was ten, or even, say, five
+thousand pounds. With five thousand pounds he might do very well on
+the other side of the world.
+
+As, strolling leisurely along, he considered the matter in all its
+bearings calmly, it appeared to him that nothing worth calling money
+could be got at least until the morrow. In the morning he would meet
+his cousin at the bank, with Parmiter and Andrews; the arrangements
+would be made of which Parmiter had spoken; then, immediately after,
+he would be free to lay hands on as much ready cash as the
+arrangements permitted. He had no doubt that everything would be all
+right until to-morrow--he would so manage that it should be; all the
+same, he would have liked to have had a good supply of coin at his
+command, in case. However, it was no use grizzling at what might not
+be. He smiled as he arrived at this conclusion; he was still smiling
+when he reached the office. He marched, as a matter of course, to the
+room which had been his uncle's own particular sanctum, and this time
+no one even as much as hinted nay. Indeed, he was presently followed
+by Andrews, who informed him, with a countenance of decent solemnity,
+that he had made arrangements, which he hoped would meet with his and
+Miss Patterson's approval, for the interment of Mr. Patterson's
+remains in the family vault at Kensal Green, the interment to take
+place upon the morrow--Wednesday. Tickled by certain thoughts of his
+own, Rodney smiled as he listened; but this time, as his face was bent
+over the table, it is possible that the smile went unnoticed. He
+expressed himself as greatly obliged by what Andrews had done, and was
+certain that his feelings would be shared by Miss Patterson. Indeed,
+he was convinced that Miss Patterson would be willing to leave
+everything in his charge, since she would feel assured that everything
+he did would be right and proper and for the best. Mr. Andrews put his
+hand up to his mouth and coughed--the cough of one who was sensible
+that he deserved the compliment which was paid him.
+
+He wanted to know if Mr. Elmore did not think it would be well to
+close the office for the whole of to-morrow, so as to give the staff
+an opportunity of at least attending at the graveside. They had all
+been remembered in the will, and would like to show the last tokens of
+respect for their dead master. Rodney, to whom the notion of marking
+such an occasion as a sort of holiday was novel, informed Andrews that
+the idea was excellent, and that he was at liberty to act in the
+matter as he thought was right. Andrews then wanted to know if Miss
+Patterson would be present, or if he--Rodney Elmore--would represent
+her as chief mourner. The suggestion moved Rodney in a way he would
+not have cared to admit. He had had no intention of attending his
+uncle's funeral at all--and as chief mourner! He to represent his
+cousin in such a capacity! That would be indeed to mock the dead. He
+was conscious of a feeling which surprised himself; he had not
+supposed he was so sensitive.
+
+"I think," he told Andrews, "we must leave these points till later. I
+will consult with Miss Patterson and--observe her wishes. There is
+another matter," he went on. "Access to Mr. Patterson's banking
+account is not so easy as I imagined. My acquaintance with the
+procedure in these cases is nil; I don't know what yours amounts to."
+
+"I know no more than you; this is the first time I find myself in such
+a position. Two payments of some importance are to be made this week;
+I was wondering how they would be met. Of course, if representations
+are made, time will be given."
+
+"But, all the same, you would rather the payments were made? Exactly
+my feelings, Andrews; I want everything to be done in due order. I am
+going to arrange for Miss Patterson to meet you and Mr. Parmiter at
+the bank to-morrow morning, when I am advised that it will be possible
+to make arrangements which will enable us to meet all liabilities as
+they fall due. By the way, I believe that the trading account
+pass-book is in your charge; you might let me look at it."
+
+Rodney examined the book when it was brought to him with great
+attention. He was already posted in certain figures which had to deal
+with his uncle's private account. Customers were brought in to him;
+some who had called in the ordinary course of business, others who had
+come to offer condolences, and so on. Their being brought straight to
+him showed a frank acceptance on Andrews' part of the fact that he was
+to be acting head of the firm; none the less, therefore, he was
+careful that Andrews was present at each of the interviews, referring
+certain matters to him with a little air of deference which won, as it
+was intended to win, the managing man's heart. The customers were
+favourably impressed, agreeing, as they went out, that Graham
+Patterson's mantle had descended on to capable shoulders.
+
+"I shouldn't wonder," declared Mr. Brailson North as he shook hands
+with Mr. Andrews at the outer door, "if he turns out to be every bit
+as good a man as his uncle."
+
+This, coming from a member of one of the largest firms in the City,
+was praise indeed. The managing man's eyes glistened. Anything which
+suggested a compliment to the business, so wrapped up in it was his
+whole existence, was a compliment to him. Since yesterday his ideas on
+the subject of Mr. Elmore had changed.
+
+"Mr. North," he addressed the visitor in a confidential whisper, "Mr.
+Patterson was a good man, an excellent man of business in his way,
+sound and discreet; but between you, me, and this doorpost, I
+shouldn't wonder if the young one was better, with all his uncle's
+soundness and discretion, together with something that his uncle
+hadn't got. He's surprised me! You mark my words, I shouldn't be
+surprised if the house of Graham Patterson--there's going to be no
+alteration in the title--takes its place among the greatest City
+houses--mind you, in the front rank."
+
+Mr. North laughed.
+
+"There's no reason why your prophecy shouldn't come true. This is the
+day of the young man. Your young man has evidently got a head on his
+shoulders; he's a good foundation to build on. If he has grit,
+steadiness, caution, and knows just what sort of structure he would
+raise on it, there's no reason that I know of why he shouldn't build
+anything he likes. I agree with you in thinking that it is possible
+that the house of Graham Patterson is destined to be, in all respects,
+one of the finest in the City of London."
+
+While these things were being said in his praise Rodney Elmore was
+writing to Miss Patterson. He enclosed for her inspection the marriage
+licence he had bought, asked in what church she would like the
+ceremony to take place on Monday, and added that he hoped to be able
+to make all final detailed arrangements with her to-morrow after the
+funeral. He told her of the difficulty which had arisen about getting
+money, asked her to meet him at the bank in the morning at 11.30;
+hoped that afterwards they might lunch together, pointing out that he
+never had lunched with her yet. Since after to-morrow he looked
+forward to being able to spend most of his time with her till Monday,
+and then for ever and a day--and that wouldn't seem a day too
+long!--he said that he felt that it would be better to devote the
+evening to doing certain little things of his own, which, sooner or
+later, would have to be done. By doing them he would clear the decks
+for action, so that, when the time for action came, he would be able
+to devote the whole of his time and, indeed, the whole of his life
+to her. All of which meant that he would not be able to tell her,
+except on paper, that he loved her till they met at the bank
+to-morrow morning.
+
+Before actually slipping it into the envelope, together with this
+edifying epistle, he read the marriage licence carefully through. The
+perusal started him on what, for him, was an unwonted train of
+thought. Already, while still in the first flush of youth, he had
+spoilt his life, brought it to final wreck and ruin. What an extremely
+silly thing to have done! It was characteristic of this young
+gentleman that he never could bring himself to look at anything
+through serious eyes--even death. Whatever his first impulse might be,
+his second was to smile. Life, with all that appertained thereto, was
+such a funny thing. Here was he, with a career on either hand, each of
+which would lead at least to fortune; yet he might have neither. That
+did seem droll. Each was represented by a woman; personally he would
+have preferred that which was represented by Gladys, if only because
+he had no doubt that ere long he would be master not only of the
+business but of her. He was not so sure of Stella. In her he suspected
+an obstinate streak which he feared might be congenital. He had always
+felt that the Austins were, as the head of the house had put it,
+"stocky." He would find them more inclined to manage than to be
+managed. One thing he did know of himself: that he never could be
+managed. He might not put up an open fight--open fighting was not
+precisely in his line--but, if a sustained attempt were made to manage
+him, he would slip away--somehow, that was sure. Therefore, if only
+for the sake of peace and quietude, it would be better to avoid the
+risk. All the same, there was something about Stella which did appeal
+to him. With a sudden smile, slipping the licence and the letter into
+the envelope, he closed the flap.
+
+Then, with pen in hand, as he was about to write the address, he
+started again to think. It was women--girls--who had brought him to
+his present pass, that was how he put it to himself. What Mabel Joyce
+said was perfectly true: he could not be alone with a girl without
+making love to her. It was a physical impossibility; he did not know
+why, but it was. The mischief was that his instinct had not warned him
+they were dangerous, hence his horrid situation. Indeed, it was hard
+that they should be dangerous; they were so pleasant to make love to.
+There were men who cared nothing for women, who went through life
+without making love--real love!--to a single one. How they managed he
+could not think. To him life under such conditions would not be worth
+living. He was a Sybarite. Life meant to him its good things; were
+there better things than women? He doubted it. He thought little of
+men; he had a very high opinion of women; he doubted if he had ever
+met one in whom there was not something to be desired.
+
+Take Mabel Joyce. She was showing him a side of her character whose
+existence he had not suspected. Yet he understood her, quite believed
+her when she said that she was fighting for her life. No one could
+have been sweeter to him than she had been; then she was such a pretty
+little thing, from the tips of her little pink toes to the top of her
+fluffy little head. It could hardly be set down to her as a fault if
+she was sweet no longer. Let him be just! Then there was Gladys, a
+girl of quite a different type; but that was the charm about women,
+there were so many types. He was persuaded that they would have the
+best possible time together, if the fates could only manage to be
+kind. He would make her a model husband, he really would; he rather
+wondered what it would feel like to be a husband, but he did not doubt
+that it would be all right. A little cramped, perhaps; but he would
+study her, and her interests, in every possible way. She should never
+regret the father she had lost, who was precious little loss after
+all. He would be better to her than a father; he should rather think
+so! Then there was Mary Carmichael; but at the thought of Mary
+Carmichael his pulses began to dance--that any man should be ass
+enough to care nothing for women when there was Mary Carmichael! Also,
+let him not forget little Stella--why, what an idiot he was; she was
+waiting for him now! He glanced at his watch. Great Scott! how the
+time had flown! And that poor child was longingly waiting for him to
+put his arms about her and stifle her with kisses. That he should be
+brute enough to let her wait!
+
+He addressed the envelope, rang the bell, bade the lad who answered
+take it at once to Russell Square, took his hat off its peg, and,
+after a few hurried words to Andrews as he went out, started off for
+Kensington.
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER XVIII
+
+                          THE PERFECT LOVER
+
+
+Stella, opening the door for him herself, was at him like a small wild
+thing.
+
+"I thought you were never coming!"
+
+"Why, it's not yet half-past five."
+
+"Half-past five! when I expected papa to bring you with him, and he
+said you'd be here by five! Come in here; I'll talk to you!"
+
+She took from him his hat and stick and gloves, and placed them on a
+table in the hall; then she led him by the sleeve of his coat into a
+room on the left, and shut the door, and drew a long breath.
+
+"Oh--h--h! So you've come at last, my lord! Let me look at you, to
+make sure that it is you. Oh, Rodney, why have you been so long in
+coming?"
+
+She put her arms about his neck and drew him down to her and kissed
+him. He said, softly:
+
+"I do believe you have grown shorter."
+
+"You wretch! To let a thing like that be your first word to me!"
+
+"It's such a long way down, though it's well worth stooping for."
+
+He kissed her again, tenderly, on her pretty lips--he was an expert in
+the art of kissing. Because he did it so well, she, not knowing that
+such skill came of practice, had him kiss her again and again and
+again, till the breath had half gone out of her body and she was all
+rapturous palpitation.
+
+"If you only knew what ages it seems since I saw you!"
+
+"Stella, what do you think it has seemed to me? If you only knew what
+I have gone through!"
+
+"Poor boy! I suppose you have had to bear a good deal."
+
+"You have no notion what I've had to bear."
+
+That was true enough, or she would not have been as close to him as
+she was.
+
+"It was bad enough when you didn't come on Sunday. I suppose you
+didn't get back from that Mrs. What's-her-name, your mother's friend,
+in time?"
+
+"My dear, I had a chapter of accidents, and nearly missed the last
+train; I'll tell you all about it some day, and you'll laugh. I didn't
+feel like laughing then, I can tell you that."
+
+"And I didn't feel like laughing, and I can tell you that. In fact,
+I--I cried."
+
+"Stella!"
+
+"I did; it seemed so awful. That was the longest Sunday I ever knew;
+and then when the evening came I kept expecting you every moment; I
+kept rushing out of the front door to look for you. Every footstep in
+the street I thought was yours, and every vehicle the hansom which was
+bringing you; when it kept getting later and later, and still you
+didn't come, I--I fancied all sorts of things, and I simply had to
+cry."
+
+"My darling, I would infinitely rather have been with you than where I
+was."
+
+That again was true enough; part of the time he had been in the
+tunnel--a gruesome time.
+
+"What time was it when you did get back?"
+
+"Frightfully late; but--Stella, you won't tell anyone if I tell you
+something? Promise!"
+
+"Of course I promise. What--what is it?"
+
+"You can laugh if you like; I don't mind your laughing a little bit;
+but I don't want them to laugh."
+
+"Why should they laugh?"
+
+"I did come to see you--after I came back."
+
+"Rodney!"
+
+"At least, I came as far as the outside of the house. I dismissed the
+cab at the corner; then I walked--or rather sneaked--along the
+pavement; if a bobby had seen me he'd have been all suspicion--till I
+reached the house. It was all in darkness; there wasn't a glimmer of
+light anywhere."
+
+"What time was it?"
+
+"About one, perhaps later."
+
+"Rodney, I'd been in my room hours and hours; but I wasn't asleep; I
+was crying in bed."
+
+"Stella! You were crying! Great Scott! if--if I'd only known it,
+I'd--I'd have done something."
+
+"What would you have done?"
+
+"I'd--I'd have done something if--if I'd had to break a window!"
+
+"But what good would your breaking a window have done me?"
+
+"Anyhow, it would have been a beginning; but, you see, I didn't even
+know which your room was--whether you were at the front or the back."
+
+"I'm on the second floor in the front; my window's over the hall
+door."
+
+"I kept staring at it all the time; I had a sort of feeling--I swear I
+had a sort of feeling! If I'd only been sure I'd have whistled."
+
+"Whistled! At one in the morning! What would have been the good of
+that?"
+
+"Suppose, say, I'd whistled 'The Devout Lover'--or what I should have
+meant for 'The Devout Lover'--you'd have heard."
+
+"I probably should have heard; Miss Claughton would probably have
+heard also."
+
+"Oh, hang Miss Claughton!"
+
+"Rodney! Miss Claughton's a dear--and your hostess!"
+
+"Miss Claughton may be an absolute angel for all I know--you know what
+I mean--so long as you heard I shouldn't have cared who heard. Then
+you'd have wondered who was kicking up that awful row."
+
+"Do you think I should?"
+
+"Certain! I can't whistle for nuts. Then you'd have got out of bed,
+crossed the room with your dear little bare feet----"
+
+"Rodney!"
+
+"And lifted the corner of the blind."
+
+"I might."
+
+"When you'd seen me hanging on to the railings for all I was worth,
+trying to get my breath and whistle at the same time; you'd have
+stopped crying, whatever else you did."
+
+"Rodney, how absurd you are! Fancy your hanging on to the railings for
+all you were worth! What did you really do?"
+
+"Oh, I hung about and hung about, and then I slunk off home. Wasn't it
+silly to come and see you at that time of night? I knew you'd laugh!"
+
+"If I'd known you were there I shouldn't have cried. The idea, you
+darling! But, Rodney, why didn't you manage to get a peep at me the
+whole of yesterday?"
+
+"Do you think I didn't try?--but I couldn't; it was a day of horrors!
+Just as I was wondering if I couldn't manage to get at least a kiss by
+making out that Kensington was on the way to the City, the news came
+of what my uncle had done. That was a facer, for a man to get news
+like that just as he was finishing his breakfast."
+
+"But I thought you didn't get the news till you reached the City? You
+sent your first telegram from there."
+
+"I got the news before, but I didn't understand; I didn't want to
+understand, I didn't dare to understand. Then I had to go to the
+inquest."
+
+"Did you? It doesn't say anything in the paper about you being there."
+
+"Of course not; my evidence wasn't wanted after all, but we all of us
+had to be there. It was awful!"
+
+"You poor, poor boy! Afterwards why didn't you come straight to me?"
+
+"I couldn't; I had to rush off to the City."
+
+"But why?"
+
+"Everything was in the most frightful confusion; no one knew why he
+had done it."
+
+"But there was the verdict!"
+
+"The verdict? My uncle was not a man to kill himself for a shadow;
+there might be a better reason. Say nothing to your father; I wish to
+impute nothing against my uncle's credit; but at one time it seemed
+just possible that he had done it, because he knew he was ruined, to
+save himself from shame, dishonour. We had to find out, to be certain,
+to make sure; we went all through the books; we went through
+everything; we were at it till the small hours of the morning."
+
+"My dear! Did they tell you I had called?"
+
+"Did they not! When I heard it I wished that I could have flown to you
+on a flying machine; but it was impossible."
+
+"But papa tells me that you talk about going to the office every day
+this week."
+
+"Stella, let me put a case. Suppose Mr. Austin were my uncle, and he
+had done what my uncle did, and everything were at sixes and sevens,
+and all the help was wanted that could be got, what would you think of
+me if I were to cut and run--it would amount to that!--even for the
+sake of the best and sweetest and prettiest and dearest girl in the
+world--meaning you?"
+
+"That's all very well, Rodney; but I asked papa if he thought you
+really had to go--if you ought to go; and he said that so far as he
+could make out there wasn't the least necessity why you should ever
+set foot in the office again."
+
+"Your father said that?"
+
+"And I believe he's been making inquiries."
+
+"Has he? When I see your father I shall have to tell him that this is
+a matter in which I am afraid I shall have to use my own judgment."
+
+"At least you can get one day off to take me out--say to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow! It's my uncle's funeral."
+
+"Well? There's no reason why you should go to it, if it is. Who
+expects you to go?"
+
+For a moment it seemed as if the question had left the ready-tongued
+young gentleman nonplussed; but it was only for a moment.
+
+"My dear Stella, isn't it sufficient answer to say that my uncle was
+the only relative I have in the world?"
+
+"My dear Rodney, I don't wish to comment on your sudden sensitiveness
+where your uncle is concerned. I never dreamt that you felt for him
+what you seem to feel; but I suppose your connection with him will
+cease when he is buried?"
+
+"In a sense, certainly."
+
+"In all senses?"
+
+"My dear Stella, I have already told you."
+
+"To whom has he left his business?"
+
+"Until the contents of the will are known who can say--positively?"
+
+"Has he left it to you?"
+
+"That I am quite sure he hasn't."
+
+"Has he left you anything?"
+
+"There again, till the will is read, who can be sure?"
+
+"When is the will to be read?"
+
+"To-morrow, after the funeral."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"At his house in Russell Square."
+
+"Are you invited to be present?"
+
+"'Invited' is scarcely the correct word; instructions have been issued
+that the whole staff is to attend. That rather looks as if he may have
+left something, possibly some trifle, to everyone who was actually in
+his employ at the time of his death."
+
+"I see. That explains why you want to be present at the funeral. And
+afterwards, when the will has been read, will you--dine with us? Papa
+wants me to dine, I think, at the Savoy, to what he calls 'celebrate'
+our engagement."
+
+"You may be sure I'll come if I can."
+
+"'If'! It's again 'if.' Is it to be all 'ifs '?"
+
+"My dearest Stella, what do you mean?"
+
+"It doesn't matter. Shall we go to the drawing-room? I think we shall
+find that the Miss Claughtons and papa are waiting for us there."
+
+The young lady turned as if to leave the room. He caught her by the
+arm.
+
+"Stella, is it possible, is it conceivable, that you can imagine that
+what has happened is in the least degree, in any sense my fault? Can
+you suppose that I would not ten thousand times rather spend every
+hour of every day with you than do what I have done, what I may still
+have to do?--that my heart, my thoughts, are not with you every
+instant I have to spend in that confounded City?"
+
+"Rodney, I am very anxious to believe that there are sufficient
+reasons which compel you to spend all the time you seem to spend in
+the City; but you don't manage to make it very clear what they are."
+
+"Stella! Stella! How can you talk like that? What shall I say? What
+can I do?"
+
+"You can promise to dine with us to-morrow night."
+
+"I gladly promise it--gladly."
+
+"There's no 'if' about the promise?"
+
+"No 'if'! If you only knew how I shall look forward to coming, what
+pleasure I shall give myself in coming! My dear, if you only knew how
+I am looking forward to dining with you all the days of all the year!"
+
+"And, Rodney, papa understand that you are coming into his business;
+is that what you understand?"
+
+"Rather! You bet it is, if he'll have me. Do you think I'd throw away
+a chance like that?"
+
+"Nothing that may be in your uncle's will will make any difference?"
+
+"You goose! What do you suppose will be there? The probability is that
+there will be nothing of the slightest interest to me--at the most
+some trivial legacy--a hundred, fifty, five-and-twenty pounds! But let
+me tell you this, that in the present state of my exchequer even the
+latter sum will be a godsend. You don't know what it is to be in a
+chronic state of impecuniosity--a little millionaire like you!"
+
+"I, a millionaire!"
+
+"You don't appreciate the situation; you really don't. Entirely
+between us, I wonder that I ever had the courage--the cheek!--to
+tell you how much I love you; how dear to me is the ground under
+your small feet; how I long to have you in my arms--you, with the
+Bank of England at your back; and I! But--Caesar's ghost!--what am I
+dreaming about? The sight of you, the touch of you, the sound of you,
+has so--so got into the very bones of me that I'd clean forgotten.
+Why--Stella!--what's this?"
+
+He took a small, round, leather-covered box out of his waistcoat
+pocket.
+
+"My dear Rodney--how should I know what it is?"
+
+As she looked at the outside of the box her eyes began to sparkle--as
+if she did not know!
+
+"There! Why, it's a ring!"
+
+"What a pet."
+
+"Give me your hand!"
+
+"That's not the proper hand."
+
+"Isn't it? Which is the proper hand?"
+
+"Rodney! How ignorant you are!"
+
+"My dear, have I had your experience?"
+
+"My experience!--silly! I thought everybody knew on which hand the
+engagement finger was--there!--that is the finger!"
+
+She held out to him a finger which, if it was small, was slim and
+daintily fashioned. He bent and kissed it.
+
+"Dear digit!--salutation! Now, you unclothed midget, I'll clothe you
+with this ring."
+
+"Oh, Rodney, what--what a darling!"
+
+She pressed it to her lips.
+
+"Does it fit?"
+
+"As if it were made for me."
+
+"Isn't that wonderful, when I only guessed?"
+
+"Thank you--thank you, Rodney."
+
+"It's only a poor little ring--a love token, to mark you as my
+own--that's all. But one day I'll give you the finest ring that money
+can buy, and you can put it in the place of this."
+
+"As if I ever would--or could! Rodney, this is the most beautiful ring
+I have ever seen--ever, ever, ever! And it always will be the most
+beautiful ring in the world--to me. No other will ever take its
+place."
+
+Her voice fell as she moved a little closer to him.
+
+"I shall hope to be still wearing it when I am lying in my grave."
+
+"Dear love!"
+
+He took her in his arms and kissed her again, as it were, solemnly. He
+was practised in all varieties of the art. And they were silent.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XIX
+
+               THE FEW WORDS AT THE END OF THE EVENING
+
+
+There were five of them at dinner--the lovers, the lady's father, her
+two hostesses--the Misses Claughton. These were cousins of her mother.
+Miss Claughton was tall and straight and prim; Miss Nancy Claughton,
+the younger sister, was stout and tender. Both ladies were disposed to
+make a fuss of Rodney, to invest him with a sort of halo, as if, in
+asking Stella to be his wife, he had done something which marked him
+out as an unusual young man. Mr. Austin's inclination was towards
+jocosity. Rodney had long since decided that a sense of humour was not
+that gentleman's strongest point. Dry he could be, he had rather an
+effective trick of it; but funny--no. His persistent efforts to be
+funny did not improve the flavour of what, from the young gentleman's
+point of view, was a sufficiently homely repast. The soup was
+doubtful, one could not be sure if it was meant to be clear or thick;
+the cod was boiled to rags--and, anyhow, he hated cod; the mutton was
+overdone; the sweets were suited to the nursery. Under the
+circumstances it was perhaps as well that, between Mr. Austin's jokes,
+the question chiefly discussed was where they should dine on the
+morrow. It was some consolation, Rodney felt, that there was a
+prospect of a decent meal after the passage of another four-and-twenty
+hours. The gentlemen did not remain at table when the feast was done;
+Mr. Austin was a teetotaller, and Rodney, when he had tasted Miss
+Claughton's claret, wished he was; so there was no temptation to
+linger over the wine. In the drawing-room they had "music." Stella
+played and sang. Rodney, whose taste in music was as fastidious as in
+other things, would have been content had she done neither. She had
+not got a bad little voice; from the point of view of those who liked
+little voices of the kind; but he had always been of opinion that it
+was worth more to the professors of singing than to anybody else.
+Still, she sang straight at him, and for him only; so it was not so
+bad. Presently Mr. Austin vanished, and the Misses Claughton followed.
+So he put his arm about Stella's waist, and that was better. She was
+even more disposed to be made love to after dinner than before, and
+somehow she seemed prettier and sweeter and more desirable to him.
+Under such conditions he was the kind of young man who was bound to
+shine.
+
+After a while--quite an agreeable while--he led the conversation on to
+the subject which Mr. Austin had broached in the morning. The lady
+lent a complacent ear.
+
+"Stella, I have a very serious question which I wish to put to you."
+
+"What is it? If you can be serious."
+
+"You will find I can when you have heard my question; I pray you
+incline your little pink ears unto my question. Will you marry me?"
+
+"Perhaps, some day--silly!"
+
+"When is 'some day'?"
+
+"When would you like it to be?"
+
+"This day; to-night."
+
+"Rodney, you--you really mustn't talk like that."
+
+"Why mustn't I?"
+
+"You only proposed last Saturday."
+
+"Well. Allow a week for that fact to get fixed firmly in your mind,
+another for preparation, why shouldn't 'some day' be Saturday week?"
+
+"Don't be ridiculous."
+
+"It's you who are ridiculous. If you keep me waiting long I shall kiss
+you all away."
+
+"Am I the only girl you've ever kissed?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"That's a fib; I saw you kiss Mary."
+
+"Gracious! When?"
+
+"Have you been so much in the habit of kissing Mary that you need ask
+when?"
+
+"If by Mary you mean Miss Carmichael, I don't remember to have ever
+kissed her once."
+
+"Well, I remember. And let me tell you something, sir: there have been
+times when--I've been jealous of Mary."
+
+"Good gracious me! what an extraordinary child! Miss Carmichael's sole
+recommendation to me has been that she's your friend; besides, hasn't
+Tom an eye on her?"
+
+"Oh, Tom! Tom never would see anything--like that; but I see.
+Honestly, don't you think Mary's very pretty?"
+
+"She's not bad, in a way; but she's not to be compared with you."
+
+"That she certainly isn't; you don't imagine that you can make me
+believe that I'm--a tenth part as pretty as Mary? Do you take me for a
+perfect goose?"
+
+"Stella, do you remember what you said before dinner about the ring.
+You said--I don't know if you meant it."
+
+"I meant every word I said, Rodney."
+
+"Well, sweetheart, you said it was the most beautiful ring you had
+ever seen. Just as you said that, and meant it, I say and mean that
+you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen; and, to me, you will
+be the most beautiful girl, as long as I live."
+
+"Do you really mean that? Really?"
+
+"By the time we're--Darby and Joan, you'll know I mean it. Now, young
+woman, I'm as one who speaks with authority. I'm authorised to inform
+you that if you will stand with me at the altar inside a month you
+will make your mother happy and your father happy, to say nothing of
+me. So which day next month is it to be? Shall I put it at the first?"
+
+"Who told you to say that?"
+
+"Your own father, this morning as ever was."
+
+"Was--was the idea yours or his?"
+
+"My very dearest--small one----"
+
+"I'm not so small as all that! You're not to call me small!"
+
+"Well, all-that-my-heart-desireth, which you are, I will tell you with
+such precision as is in me. I said to him: 'I want her! I do want her!
+Oh, I want her badly! But, if I have to earn her, I'll have to wait
+for her, I dare not think how long.' Then he said to me--exactly what
+I've told you; and my heart sang. Do you doubt? Ask him! To me the
+point is: shall we say the first?"
+
+"Rodney, do try to be sensible! You're a man, and you can't
+understand."
+
+"Is that so? So long as you do."
+
+"To a girl her wedding day is the day of her life."
+
+"Some girls manage to have several wedding days, so I suppose they
+have two or three days in their lives."
+
+"There will be only one wedding day in my life. Whatever happens I
+want that to be, in every sense, a wonderful day; I want mine to be a
+pretty wedding."
+
+"With you as bride that's assured."
+
+"A really pretty wedding can't be arranged at a moment's notice; it
+takes time."
+
+"Half an hour--or three-quarters?"
+
+"Don't be so silly! Mamma's coming up to town to-morrow. I'll consult
+her; then I shall have some idea how long a time it will take."
+
+"You mean how short a time! Do mean how short a time!"
+
+"Well, how short a time. Rodney, how many bridesmaids would you like
+me to have?"
+
+"Bridesmaids? My dear! What are bridesmaids to me, so long as I've the
+bride? All--all--all I'm going to be married to is the bride!"
+
+"You are--a perfect----"
+
+"Yes? A perfect--what?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know! Rodney?"
+
+She hid her face upon his shoulder.
+
+"I always wondered what there was in a kiss to make a fuss about.
+Now--I know."
+
+When he left it had been practically settled that the wedding should
+take place on the earliest possible day of the ensuing month.
+
+He walked home, by way of Kensington High Street and the Park. And as
+he walked he mused, and more than once his musings moved him to
+something very much like laughter, out there in the solitude and the
+dark. Was ever man before in such a complication--promised at three
+weddings as bridegroom? As he tried to puzzle out how it all had come
+about it struck him as quite inconceivably comical. If he told the
+story to the ladies themselves they could scarcely fail to see how
+funny it was--at least, he hoped they would. The position would be
+simple enough if, as is still the custom in some of the more civilised
+countries of the world, a man could have wives galore. But if it came
+to choosing, why, there would be the rub. Mabel had her points; who
+knew it better than he? While as for Stella, he had never dreamed she
+was so charming. With her kisses still on his lips, her soft voice
+still in his ears, her pretty eyes still looking into his, how could
+he help but love her! Dear little Stella! A week all alone with her,
+even a fortnight--he would like to have the chance of it. Perhaps,
+after a fortnight, a little relaxation might be desirable, a sort of
+change of air. But why look so far ahead? Then there was Mary--but he
+dare not think of Mary Carmichael, even then. If he had ten thousand a
+year, and freedom, he would choose Mary Carmichael before all the
+girls he had ever met. But that was out of the question; he had better
+put her out of his mind. Things were already sufficiently complicated
+without adding her. On the whole, the circumstances being what they
+were, considering the position with the judicial calmness which was
+becoming, he plumped for Gladys; and--the business in St. Paul's
+Churchyard. Gladys Patterson should be his wife; yes, she should be
+his wife, on all accounts; on all!--if--if it was not necessary to
+take a voyage to foreign parts.
+
+In that room on the second floor of the house in Kensington, Stella
+Austin, in her nightdress, her pretty hair hanging in two long plaits
+down her back, was on her knees beside her bed, seeming such a child.
+She was thanking God for all His goodness to her--she always began her
+prayers by thanking God. She thanked Him for many things, but chiefly,
+and beyond all else, for having given her so thoughtful, so tender, so
+true a lover. God knew how happy He had made her, and how full her
+heart was of gratitude to Him. And she prayed that God would make her
+worthy of the lover He had given. She knew how, in so many ways, he
+was above her, above anything she might ever hope to be; she prayed
+God that He would give her strength and grace, so that she might be at
+least a little more deserving. She had been unkind to-night, and--and
+wickedly jealous; she knew she had. Please God make her kinder and
+less selfish! And, when the time came, please God, make her a good
+wife, a good wife!
+
+At this point articulate utterance ceased, her face fell forward on
+the coverlet because her eyes were streaming with tears. It was to her
+such a solemn and beautiful thought that she would before very long be
+Rodney Elmore's wife that she trembled with the very rapture of it, so
+that she could no longer even go on with her prayers.
+
+
+                           *   *   *   *   *
+
+
+When Mr. Elmore reached his lodgings, with the exception of the light
+in his sitting-room, the house was in darkness. But if that signified
+that the household had retired to rest, it did not follow that
+everyone was asleep, as he was presently to learn. He had only been in
+his room a couple of minutes when the door opened noiselessly--to
+admit Miss Joyce. Coming right in, she stood with her back to the
+door, which she closed behind her. She was in a state of undress which
+did not become her ill. As he eyed her Rodney compared her, mentally,
+with Stella; not to her disadvantage. She really was a good-looking
+girl; only--he did not like the look which was on her white face and
+in her eyes. He felt sure someone would notice it, and questions would
+be asked.
+
+She spoke in so faint a whisper that what she said was only just
+audible; his voice was lowered in sympathy with hers.
+
+"Mother's come back."
+
+"Has she? That's good hearing. I hope she had a good time at your
+aunt's."
+
+"I've got the licence."
+
+"The----? Oh, have you? That also is good hearing."
+
+"It cost me two pounds four and six."
+
+"Did it? I hope you consider it to be worth the money."
+
+"I've fixed it for Thursday at noon."
+
+"Noon? Isn't that--rather an unfashionable hour?"
+
+"Mind you're there! You've promised! I've got your promise."
+
+"Am I likely to forget--the circumstances under which you got my
+promise?"
+
+"If you're not there you'll be sorry."
+
+"Honestly, Mabel, I think we shall both of us be sorry."
+
+"You will! There's--there's another thing; I--I want to warn you."
+
+"Warn me? Haven't you done that once or twice already?"
+
+"I--I want to warn you against Mr. Dale."
+
+"Against Mr. Dale? Why?"
+
+"I believe he suspects."
+
+"Suspects? What? About you and me?"
+
+"About--your uncle."
+
+"What does he suspect about my uncle?"
+
+"He's been finding out things. Ssh! there's someone moving. Perhaps
+it's mother; she mustn't find me here, like this."
+
+She flitted from the room as noiselessly as she had entered, shutting
+the door without its making a sound. He stood and listened. Perhaps it
+was her conscience which had made her fancy noises--all seemed still.
+If she had ascended to her room on the landing, a ghost could not have
+moved more silently.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XX
+
+                    THE FIRST LINE OF AN OLD SONG
+
+
+Rodney Elmore had the unusual attribute of seeming at his best in the
+morning, as if calm, unruffled sleep, having removed the cobwebs from
+his brain, returned him rested and buoyant to a world in which there
+were no shadows. When, on the Wednesday morning, he came downstairs
+with light steps and dancing eyes, he found among the letters on the
+breakfast table one which was addressed in a familiar hand. He gave it
+pride of place.
+
+
+"MY DEAR R.,--I don't know what possesses me, but I feel that I simply
+must write and tell you that I wish you were within kissing distance.
+Isn't that a ridiculous feeling to have, especially where you're
+concerned? Do you think that I don't know? I have been conscious of
+the most extraordinary sensations since Sunday. I made a mistake
+in asking you to come and console me. You did it so effectually
+that--well, I would like you to continue the treatment. There's a
+dreadful thing to say! Aren't I a wretch? Poor dear Tom! I know he has
+all the good qualities I haven't, and that he'll make me the best
+husband in the world, but as for his consoling me--oh, dear! oh, dear!
+oh, dear! I don't like the idea at all! I'm nearly sure that, after
+all, the best husband in the world is not the one I'm looking for.
+What makes me feel so all over pins and needles when I'm with Tom,
+and so comfy when I'm with you? Isn't it odd? Have you any feeling of
+the kind where I'm concerned? I know you'll say so, but have you?
+You'd say anything to anyone, but, all the same, I've a feeling
+somewhere that, if I chose, I could have you on a little bit of
+string. I daren't ask you to come here again, I simply daren't; but,
+if you do come, mind you give me proper warning. What would you say
+if I ran up to town? Should I see Stella at the corner of every
+street? Sweet Stella! Aren't I a cat? I suppose you couldn't rob a
+bank or something? If you and I were starting off to-morrow together,
+ever so far, for ever so long--I dare not think of it, and that's
+the honest truth. Aren't I insane? No one but you would ever guess
+it.--M.
+
+"Mind you tear this up the very moment you have read it, and you're to
+forget that you ever did read it!
+
+"By the way, by which train did you go up on Sunday? You weren't sure
+that you could catch the Pullman, and, if you did miss it, did you go
+by the 9.10? In that case you must have been in the same train as your
+uncle. When I saw about it in the paper it gave me quite a shock.
+Fancy if he was in the next carriage to yours? I suppose the dear man
+hasn't left you a millionaire? If he only had! You would--wouldn't
+you?
+
+"Tear it up!"
+
+
+He had just finished reading this somewhat interjectional epistle when
+Miss Joyce came in, the bearer of his morning meal. He greeted her as
+if he were really pleased to see her.
+
+"The top of the morning to you, Baby! How moves the world your way? Do
+you feel like dancing on your pink toes?"
+
+When he called her Baby, the pet name he had for her, she glanced up
+at him, almost as if she were startled.
+
+"Did you understand what I said to you last night?"
+
+"Perfectly; I've been thinking it all over, and I've come to a
+decision. I think you're quite right in what you wish me to do. As
+this isn't Leap Year, let me regularise the position. Mabel, I would
+like you to be my wife. Will you take me for your husband?"
+
+"You say that because you know you can't help yourself."
+
+"You are mistaken. If I didn't want to be your husband, nothing you or
+anyone could say or do could make me, rest assured of that. I won't
+pretend that, if things had turned out differently, I--should have
+suggested it; but, as they are, please, Mabel, let me do the
+proposing--say you will be my wife."
+
+"I'm going to be your wife; to-morrow, Thursday, at noon, and don't
+you make any mistake. There's the address of the registrar's office at
+which you're going to be married, and mind you're there to time."
+
+"Baby--you are only a baby, after all--don't talk like that; don't
+let's enter the matrimonial state as if we wished to cut each other's
+throats; let's start afresh on the old terms. I hope that when we're
+being married you won't have those white cheeks and unhappy eyes, or
+the registrar will think that I'm frightening you into being my bride,
+and you know that will be wrong."
+
+"Rodney, do you care for me a little bit?"
+
+"My dear Mabel, I care for you in an altogether different fashion from
+that which you suppose, as I hope to be able to prove to you before
+very long. Come, let's be friends."
+
+"Don't touch me--don't! Mother's waiting for me. She wants me for
+something; she told me not to be long. I--I want to speak to you
+before I go. I--I want to warn you against Mr. Dale."
+
+"You said something to that effect last night. Is Mr. Dale so
+dangerous?"
+
+"He's jealous of you."
+
+"Well, does that constitute him dangerous?"
+
+"He always has been throwing out nasty hints about you."
+
+"To whom? Surely not to you? You wouldn't listen to what you yourself
+call nasty hints about me coming from a man like Dale?"
+
+"It wasn't so much that I listened as that he was always at it
+whenever he came near me. I couldn't stop him. I suppose that my
+asking him about your going to Brighton on Sunday, and my going to the
+inquest, and such-like, made him--made him----"
+
+"Yes? Made him what?"
+
+"Started him thinking. Anyhow, he's--he's been finding out things,
+and--I don't know that he hasn't found out. You take care of him!"
+
+"My dear Mabel, in what sense am I to take care of him? I'm inclined
+to think that I should rather like to have a talk with your friend Mr.
+Dale."
+
+"You'll do no good by that."
+
+"Shan't I? We'll see. Where is he to be found--in the booking office
+at Victoria Station?"
+
+"One week he goes early and comes back about six; the next he has his
+dinner first and doesn't come back till after one--this is his late
+week. He hasn't had his breakfast yet; he's still up in his room."
+
+"Is that so? I'm afraid I can't stop to talk to him just now, but I
+certainly will take the first chance which offers."
+
+"Don't you say anything to him to make him nasty!"
+
+A feminine voice was heard calling the young lady's name.
+
+"There's mother calling. She'll give me a talking to! Mind, to-morrow
+at noon; and there's the address upon that piece of paper."
+
+"My dear Mabel, I'm making arrangements which will permit of my
+placing the whole of to-morrow at your service. I promise that you
+shall have something like a wedding day."
+
+When the lady had gone the gentleman poured himself out a cup of
+coffee with the air of one who was in the enjoyment of an excellent
+joke. He propped Miss Carmichael's letter up against the coffee-pot
+and read it through again. The second reading seemed to add to his
+sense of enjoyment.
+
+"Rob a bank? Quite as heinous crimes have been committed for the sake
+of a woman. I've always had a kind of fancy that you're the type of
+girl for whom it would be worth one's while to do such things. If I
+were to ask you to start upon that little trip at which you hint, I
+wonder what you'd say--if you knew. Hullo! what's this?"
+
+He was staring at a sheet of paper which he had taken out of one of
+the three or four envelopes which were lying on the table. On it were
+a couple of typewritten lines:
+
+
+"If you take a friend's advice you will get clean away while you have
+still a chance."
+
+
+He regarded the words as if in doubt as to whether they were intended
+to convey to him an esoteric meaning.
+
+"No signature, no address, no date; the first anonymous communication
+I ever have been favoured with. Postmark on the envelope, Kew,
+dispatched from there last night at eight o'clock, which doesn't
+convey much intelligence to me. So far as I'm aware I have no
+acquaintance who resides at Kew; and I suppose an anonymous
+correspondent, if he had his head screwed on, is scarcely likely to
+reside in the district from which he sends his letter. It's very good
+of a friend to make a friendly suggestion, but quite what he means I
+do not know; nor have I the very dimmest notion who the friend may be.
+Come in!"
+
+Someone had tapped at the door. In response to his invitation a young
+man entered of about his own age; not tall, but sturdily built, with
+close-cut black hair, small dark eyes, and a somewhat voluminous
+moustache. There was that in his manner which hinted that he was in a
+state of some excitement; that, indeed, he was an excitable young man.
+He came right up to the table, with a billycock hat in one hand and a
+bamboo cane in the other. He looked at Elmore with what were scarcely
+friendly eyes. When he spoke it was in what evidently were lowered
+tones and with a curious, staccato utterance, as if he wished to throw
+his words into the other's face.
+
+"You'll have to excuse my coming in like this, but I'm going out, and
+I want to speak to you before I do go."
+
+"That's very good of you. I believe you are Mr. Dale."
+
+"My name is Dale--George Dale, as you very well know."
+
+"Pray sit down, Mr. Dale. I don't remember to have had the pleasure of
+being introduced to you before."
+
+"Thanking you all the same, I won't sit down, and as to being
+introduced to you, I never have been. It's only for your sake I'm
+speaking to you now. I want to ask you a question to begin with."
+
+"Ask it, Mr. Dale."
+
+"What are your intentions as regards Miss Joyce?"
+
+"Really, Mr. Dale, I don't know if you are joking in putting such a
+question. If you aren't I certainly don't know what you mean."
+
+Rodney smiled at his visitor pleasantly; but the smile, instead of
+affording Mr. Dale gratification, not only caused his scowl to deepen,
+but induced him to use language of unexpected vigour.
+
+"You're a liar! That's what you are--a liar! You're a liar, because
+you know quite well what I mean. I'm not afraid of you. You're a
+bigger man than I am, but I can use the gloves. You wouldn't knock me
+out so easy as you think. I'd mark you first! But I haven't come here
+to fight you."
+
+"That, at least, is gratifying intelligence, Mr. Dale."
+
+"Oh, you can sneer--you're one of the sneering sort; but sneers won't
+do you any good. You take my tip and get as far away from this as
+you can--out of England, if you can!--between now and this time
+to-morrow!"
+
+Rodney regarded his visitor with an air of placid amusement, which
+certainly did not seem to have a soothing effect.
+
+"Mr. Dale, am I indebted to you for this?"
+
+He held out the sheet of paper on which were the two typewritten
+lines. Mr. Dale eyed it askance.
+
+"What's that? Where did you get it from?"
+
+"It came by this morning's post--from you?"
+
+"That I'll swear it never did; what's more, I don't know who it does
+come from. That looks as if there were more than one in it. I'll
+commit myself to nothing. I've got myself to think of as well as you;
+but, although this didn't come from me, and I don't know anything at
+all about it, you do what it says here--get clean away while you have
+still a chance."
+
+Without another word, or giving Rodney a chance to utter one, Mr. Dale
+bolted from, rather than left, the room; within ten seconds of his
+going the slamming of the front door announced that he had left the
+house. For some seconds Elmore sat still; then, getting up from his
+chair, began to fill a pipe with tobacco. Miss Joyce put her head into
+the room, noiselessly, unexpectedly, as she seemed to have a trick of
+doing.
+
+"Was that Mr. Dale? I thought it might be you. Has he been in here?"
+
+"He has. You come in and take away the breakfast things; I've had all
+I want to eat."
+
+Coming in, she began to do as he had said, talking, as she put the
+things together, in a half whisper which recalled Mr. Dale's staccato
+undertones. It seemed to be a house of whispers.
+
+"What did he say to you?"
+
+"He came to offer me a tip."
+
+"A tip?"
+
+"He said that if I took his tip I shouldn't stand upon the order of
+my going, but go at once, and go as far as possible between now and
+to-morrow."
+
+She put both hands to her left side, as if unconscious that she had a
+plate in one and a teaspoon in the other.
+
+"Rodney! Then--then--what are you going to do?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"But if he tells?"
+
+"Tells what?"
+
+"He said to me last night that if anyone knows that--that someone has
+killed a person, and doesn't at once inform the police, that's being
+an accessory after the fact."
+
+"Well? He was merely acquainting you with what I take is a legal
+truism."
+
+"Then he said that, whatever I might choose to do, he did not mean to
+be an accessory, either before the fact or after. Then he looked at me
+in such a way--I knew what he meant--and he went right off to bed
+without saying another word."
+
+"What had you been talking about?"
+
+"About--your uncle."
+
+"Had he introduced the subject or had you?"
+
+"He had; he would keep talking about it. Rodney, he knows, and--he's
+going to tell."
+
+"Then, in that case, it looks as if you will gain little by becoming
+my wife, and that I shall gain nothing."
+
+"Rodney, I want you to get out of your head what I said the other
+night. I don't want to force you to marry me, and I never did."
+
+"Then you've rather an unfortunate way of expressing yourself, don't
+you think so, my dear Mabel?"
+
+"I--I didn't know how else to do what I wanted to do. It's quite true
+that if I'm not going to be your wife I'll kill myself; but that
+doesn't matter--I'd just as soon die as live. But I do want to save
+you, and the only way I can do it is for you to marry me."
+
+"That may keep you from playing the tell-tale, but how is it going to
+affect Mr. Dale?"
+
+"He won't tell if I'm your wife."
+
+"Won't he? Why? I should have thought, if your story's correct, that
+he'd have told all the more, that disappointment would have inflamed
+him to madness."
+
+Rodney, as he said this, struck a match to light his pipe, and
+laughed. Nothing could have seemed less like laughter than the girl's
+white face and haunted eyes.
+
+"He'd tell to keep me from being your wife, but if I were your wife
+he'd never tell. I know him; he'd suffer anything rather than do
+anything which would give me pain or bring me to shame; if I were your
+wife he'd never tell. You're a gentleman, Rodney, and I'm not a lady,
+and I don't suppose I ever shall be; I'm just a girl who has let you
+do what you like with her, and you're cleverer than I am--much, much
+cleverer; but, in this, do be advised by me--do, dear, do! There is
+something here, something which makes me sure that the only way out of
+it, for you, is for you to make me your wife. I know you don't want to
+do it, that you never meant to do it, and I can quite understand why;
+but you'd better have me for your wife than--than that; don't you see,
+dear, that you had? I shan't be able to tell, and George Dale won't,
+and no one else knows, and instead of trying to find out more he'll
+keep others from finding out anything; he'll be on your side instead
+of against you, for my sake. Rodney, I implore you--for your own sake,
+dear, your own sake!--to do as you promised, and marry me."
+
+She pleaded to be allowed to save his life as if she were pleading for
+her own life. He turned to shake the ash from his pipe into the
+fender, and so remained, for some moments, with his back to her; while
+her eyes looked as if they were crying out to him. When he turned to
+her again he was pressing the tobacco down into his pipe before
+restoring it to his lips, smiling as he looked at her.
+
+"My dear Mabel, I'm not certain that I follow your reasoning, but do
+make your mind easy; I've promised to marry you to-morrow, and I
+will--on the stroke of noon--to the tick, for my sake as well as for
+yours. And, though the fates don't seem over propitious at the moment,
+I dare say we shall be quite as happy as the average married folk--at
+least, I'll marry you."
+
+"You mean it?"
+
+"I do--unreservedly; please understand that once more, and once for
+all. You shall have something like a wedding day."
+
+"I wish--I wish it were to-day; I'm afraid--of what may happen--before
+to-morrow."
+
+"Of whatever you may be afraid, I'm afraid that it couldn't be to-day.
+It's my uncle's funeral to-day."
+
+"Rodney! You--you're not going!"
+
+"I am; as chief mourner."
+
+"Rodney, you--you can't do a thing like that! You--you mustn't!"
+
+As she spoke an elderly woman came into the room, of a somewhat portly
+presence--the lady's mother. Seemingly she was in a mood to be
+garrulous.
+
+"What mustn't he do? Excuse me, Mr. Elmore, for coming in like this,
+but really, Mabel, I don't know what you are thinking about. I'm sure
+Mr. Elmore wants to go to his business, and here's all the work at a
+standstill----"
+
+"All right, mother; Mr. Elmore doesn't want to hear you grumbling at
+me, I know."
+
+Without waiting for her mother to continue her observations, Miss
+Joyce bustled out of the room with the breakfast tray in her hands.
+Left alone with him, the landlady addressed her lodger.
+
+"What's the matter with the girl I can't think; I never saw anything
+like the change that's come over her the last few days; she looks more
+fit for a hospital than anything else--and her temper! She never says
+anything to me; I suppose you don't know what's wrong?"
+
+"Mrs. Joyce, I'm not your daughter's confidant; she certainly says
+nothing to me in the sense you mean. Why do you take it for granted
+that anything's wrong?"
+
+"Because I've got two eyes in my head, that's why. She's not the same
+girl she was; that something's wrong I'm certain sure; but she snaps
+my nose off directly I open my mouth. I know she thinks a lot of you.
+I wondered if she'd said anything to you."
+
+"Absolutely nothing."
+
+"Then I can't understand the girl, and that's flat!"
+
+With that somewhat cryptic utterance Mrs. Joyce went out of the room
+as impetuously as she had entered. Rodney stood looking at the door
+for a moment or two, as if in doubt whether she would return. He tore
+the sheet of paper on which were the two typewritten lines into tiny
+scraps and dropped them into the fireplace. Re-reading Miss
+Carmichael's epistle, he obeyed her injunctions, a little tardily,
+perhaps, and sent the fragments after the others, repeating to himself
+as he did so a line from an old song:
+
+
+                "Of all the girls that are so sweet!"
+
+
+Then he took an oblong piece of paper out of a letter-case and studied
+it.
+
+"'Steamship _Cedric_.--John Griffiths, passenger to New York, cabin
+forty-five, berth A.' I wonder if it will be occupied, or if the
+money's wasted. That's for to-morrow, or is it to be Buenos Ayres on
+Friday, or New York on Saturday?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Who knows if it is to be either?"
+
+He had left the house and was descending the steps when a telegraph
+boy approached, with a yellow envelope in his hand.
+
+"Who's it for?" he asked.
+
+"Rodney Elmore, sir."
+
+"I am Rodney Elmore. Wait and see if there's an answer."
+
+The telegram which the envelope contained was a lengthy one; it
+covered the whole of the pink slip of paper. He read it through once,
+then again. As he read it the second time he whistled, very softly, as
+if unconsciously, the opening bars of "Sally in Our Alley."
+
+"There is an answer. Give me a form."
+
+He spread the form the boy gave him out upon his letter-case, then he
+seemed to consider what to say; then read the telegram he had received
+a third time, as if in search of light and leading. Arriving at a
+sudden decision, he wrote on the form the name and address of the
+person to whom the message was to be sent, and then one word, "Right."
+He added nothing which would show who the sender was; evidently he
+took it for granted that it would be recognised that the message came
+from him. As he watched the lad mount his bicycle and pedal away, he
+said to himself, always with that characteristic air of his, as of one
+who appreciates a capital jest:
+
+"That settles it! Now the plot does begin to thicken."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXI
+
+                        THE DEAD MAN'S LETTER
+
+
+The final understanding had been that those who were to go to the
+bank, in order that arrangements might be made which would give them
+immediate access to the funds of the late Graham Patterson, were to
+meet at the office in St. Paul's Churchyard. On the way to the City
+Rodney paid two or three calls. When he entered the office the outer
+rooms were empty; there was a notice on the outer door to the effect
+that business was suspended on account of Mr. Patterson's funeral. Mr.
+Andrews came out of what had been the late proprietor's own sanctum to
+greet him.
+
+"Mr. Wilkes is here, Mr. Elmore, and particularly wishes to see you."
+
+Rodney said nothing, but his look suggested that he resented something
+which he noticed in the other's manner, as well as the fact that he
+had come out of that particular room. Passing on in silence to the
+private office, he found Mr. Wilkes seated, not in his uncle's own
+chair, as he had been on Monday, but in one close to it. He did not
+rise as the young man entered, but contented himself with nodding
+slightly. Rodney, scenting something antagonistic in the other's
+presence there as well as in his attitude, did not even nod. He
+marched straight to the chair behind the writing-table, which he chose
+now to regard as his own, and which was within a yard of that on which
+the other was seated, and, remaining standing himself, looked down on
+the lawyer.
+
+"To what am I indebted, Mr. Wilkes, for your presence to-day? Did you
+not notice the intimation on the door, informing all and sundry that
+these offices are closed? If it is a business matter on which you have
+called, I must ask you to postpone it, at any rate until to-morrow."
+
+Instead of showing any disposition to take himself off, as the other
+so plainly suggested, the dark-visaged lawyer, leaning back in his
+chair, looked up at the young man with something in his glance which
+was not exactly complimentary.
+
+"I have come, Mr. Elmore, a good deal against my own wish, in
+consequence of a communication which I have received from Mr.
+Patterson."
+
+"From--what do you mean, from Mr. Patterson?"
+
+"A letter came to my office yesterday evening, after I had left, which
+was placed in my hands this morning. Before proceeding to take other
+steps, I thought it might perhaps save unpleasantness, and be fairer
+to you, if, in the first instance, I acquainted you with its
+substance."
+
+"From whom is the letter?"
+
+"From your late uncle, Graham Patterson."
+
+"You say it reached you last night? I don't understand."
+
+"Nor I, as yet, quite; I can only form a hypothesis. It seems that the
+letter was written at Brighton some time on Sunday. Clearly, from the
+postmark, it was posted at Brighton on Sunday. It ought to have
+reached me, of course, on Monday, but the presumption is that, owing
+to some vagary of the Post Office, it went astray, so that it has been
+more than two days on the road, instead of only a few hours. Under the
+circumstances that seems rather a curious accident. Here is the
+letter. I warn you that you will not find it a pleasant one."
+
+"Is it absolutely necessary, then, that I should know its contents? My
+relations with Mr. Patterson were not of a kind to lead me to expect
+any pleasantness from him, either on paper or off it."
+
+"The position is this. It is my duty to place this letter
+before--someone else, when very serious consequences may ensue; but,
+by taking a certain course, you may relieve me of the duty."
+
+"In that case, let me know what is in the letter."
+
+"I had better read it to you, so that you may understand that the
+language is the writer's, not mine."
+
+Mr. Wilkes withdrew a letter from an envelope which he took from his
+pocket; the envelope he held out to Rodney.
+
+"You see? The address is in your uncle's hand; it was post-marked at
+Brighton on Sunday evening, so there can be no doubt about the date on
+which it was dispatched."
+
+The lawyer proceeded to read the letter out loud, with a dryness which
+seemed to give it peculiar point.
+
+
+"'DEAR STEPHEN' [my Christian name, I may remind you, is Stephen],--'I
+want you to draw up a codicil to my will, and to have it ready for my
+signature to-morrow--Monday afternoon.
+
+"'It is to be to the effect that if my daughter marries my nephew,
+Rodney Elmore, then all that portion of my will which refers to her is
+to be null and void--she is not to have a penny. All that would have
+been hers is to be divided equally among the following charities.'
+[Then follows a list of them; there are eight. Then the letter goes
+on]: 'I hope that's clear enough. Between ourselves, Master Elmore is
+an all-round scoundrel; I swear to you that I'm convinced that no
+rascality would be too steep for him. He is a liar of the very first
+water, a thief, and a forger; so much I can prove. I would sooner have
+my girl dead than his wife; the damned young blackguard is after her
+for all he knows. But I am going to clear him out in charge of a
+constable when I get back to the office; I doubt if he has got tight
+enough hold of my girl to induce her to marry a convict--it will be a
+clear case of penal servitude for him.
+
+"'I know you will think I am writing strongly, but that is because I
+feel strongly. When I tell you the whole story you will admit that I
+am justified.
+
+"'Mind you have that codicil ready, on the lines I have given; I will
+call in on my way back from the office and sign. I know you do not
+touch criminal business as a rule, but you will have to make an
+exception in my case. I want you to instruct counsel in the matter of
+Master Elmore, for reasons which I will make clear to you when we
+meet. Sincerely yours,
+
+                                 "'GRAHAM PATTERSON.'"
+
+
+When the lawyer had done reading he lowered the letter and glanced up
+at the young man, who still stood towering above him. If he expected
+to find on his face any signs of confusion, still less of guilt or
+shame, his expectation was not realised. There was a look rather on
+Rodney's countenance of scorn, of confidence in himself, of contempt
+for whoever might speak ill of him, which became him very well. His
+remarks, when they came, possibly scarcely breathed the spirit the
+solicitor had looked for.
+
+"Have you read that letter to Mr. Andrews?"
+
+"I have not."
+
+"Have you made him acquainted with its contents?"
+
+"I have dropped no hint to him of its existence."
+
+"I have no pretensions to knowledge of the law of libel, but it is
+pretty clear that no action can be brought against the man who wrote
+that letter. With you the case is different. It was written, I
+presume, in confidence to you. If you bring it to the notice of
+anybody else you make yourself responsible for the statements it
+contains--you publish them. If you call my honour in question by
+publishing such a farrago of lies about me I will first of all thrash
+you, as they have it, to within an inch of your life, and then, if
+needs be, I will spend my last penny in calling you to account in a
+court of law. You shall not shelter yourself behind a dead man."
+
+"You use strong language, Mr. Elmore."
+
+"Could I use stronger language than that letter?"
+
+"I understand that you deny the statements it contains?"
+
+"Do I understand that you associate yourself with your correspondent
+so far as to require a denial?"
+
+"You misapprehend the situation; whether wilfully or not I don't know.
+I have no personal concern in this matter at all; eliminate that idea
+from your mind. Graham Patterson was my client living; in a sense he
+is still my client dead. I have no option but to continue to do my
+duty to him without fear or favour."
+
+"I presume in return for a certain fee, Mr. Wilkes?"
+
+"You forget yourself, sir."
+
+"In this room, Mr. Wilkes, eliminate from your mind all legal
+fictions. Don't, for your own sake, drive the fact that you are acting
+as my uncle's bravo too far home. In the face of that letter I begin
+to understand why he committed suicide. He was either drunk or mad
+when he wrote it. When sobriety or sanity returned, realising the
+situation in which he had placed himself, rather than face the
+consequences of what he had done, he took his own life. Don't you show
+yourself to be in possession of the dastard's courage which he
+lacked."
+
+"You take up an extraordinary position, Mr. Elmore."
+
+"What is the position you take up?"
+
+"Here is a letter from a man to his lawyer, in which he gives him
+instructions to make certain alterations in his will, stating reasons
+why he wishes those alterations to be made. It is signed, dated; its
+authenticity can be readily established. I am not sure that it has not
+a certain testamentary value."
+
+"Are you suggesting that that letter in any way affects my uncle's
+will?"
+
+"I am not prepared to give a definite opinion; but this I will say,
+that if its existence were to come to the knowledge of the societies
+herein mentioned, they would be justified in taking counsel's opinion,
+and quite possibly he would advise their taking further action."
+
+"You are, of course, at liberty to take any steps with regard to that
+tissue of libels you please, especially as I have made it, I think,
+perfectly clear to you that you will do so at your own proper peril."
+
+"Evidently your uncle was averse to your marrying his daughter. Am I
+to take it that you admit so much?"
+
+"Oh, I admit so much; he always was averse to that."
+
+"Then, in that case, you will at once resolve the difficulty by
+withdrawing all pretensions to Miss Patterson's hand."
+
+"Damn your impudence, sir."
+
+"Is that your answer?"
+
+"It is; with this addition--that I hope, and intend, to marry Miss
+Patterson at the earliest possible moment."
+
+"Then, in that case, you leave me no option but to place this letter
+before Miss Patterson."
+
+"Is that meant for a threat?"
+
+Andrews appeared in the doorway to announce that Mr. Parmiter was in
+the outer office.
+
+"Show Mr. Parmiter in at once for a few minutes, Andrews, if you
+please."
+
+As the young solicitor came in Rodney advanced to greet him.
+
+"Hallo, Parmiter! you come in the very nick of time--you see Mr.
+Wilkes has favoured me with his company again. Mr. Wilkes, read to Mr.
+Parmiter the letter you just now read to me."
+
+"I shall certainly do nothing of the kind. With all possible respect
+to Mr. Parmiter, this is a matter in which he has no _locus standi_,
+and in which I cannot recognise him at all."
+
+"Why not? He is my solicitor; he advises me. When you have made known
+to him the contents of that letter, don't you think it possible that
+he may give me the advice which, apparently, you would like him to
+give?"
+
+While he was still speaking the door opened to admit Miss Patterson.
+He moved to her with both hands held out.
+
+"Now, here is someone whom, I presume, you will recognise--the very
+person. Gladys, here is Mr. Wilkes. He has something which he very
+much wishes to say to you."
+
+Returning the letter to its envelope, Mr. Wilkes rose from his chair.
+
+"My hands are not going to be forced by you, Mr. Elmore, don't you
+suppose it. In making any communication to Miss Patterson which I may
+have to make, I shall prefer to choose my own time and place."
+
+"That's it, is it? I quite appreciate the reasons which actuate you,
+Mr. Wilkes, in wishing to make what you call your communication to
+Miss Patterson behind my back; and I think that Miss Patterson will
+appreciate them equally well. Mr. Wilkes has in his hand what he
+claims to be a letter from your father. If you take my advice you will
+insist on his showing it to you at once."
+
+Miss Patterson was quick to act on the hint which her lover gave her.
+She moved close up to the lawyer.
+
+"Mr. Wilkes, be so good as to let me see the letter to which my cousin
+refers."
+
+"With pleasure, Miss Patterson, at--if you will allow me to say
+so--some more convenient season; the sooner the better. For instance,
+may I have a few minutes' private conversation with you this
+afternoon? The matter on which I wish to speak to you is for your ear
+only."
+
+"You have spoken of it to my cousin?"
+
+"Oh, yes; he has spoken of it to me."
+
+"Then, why can you not speak of it to me in his presence?"
+
+"I will write to you on the subject, Miss Patterson, and will
+endeavour to make my reasons clear."
+
+He made as if to move towards the door. She placed herself in front of
+him.
+
+"One moment, Mr. Wilkes. Any letter from you will be handed to Mr.
+Elmore, unopened. I will have no private communication with you, nor,
+if I can help it, will I have any communication with you of any sort
+or kind."
+
+"I regret to hear you say so, Miss Patterson, and can only deplore the
+attitude of mind which prompts you to arrive at what I cannot but feel
+is a most unfortunate decision."
+
+"You are impertinent, Mr. Wilkes."
+
+The lawyer, with his dark eyes fixed on the lady's face, raised the
+hand in which was the envelope which contained the letter with the
+intention of slipping it into an inner pocket of his coat. Her quick
+glance recognised the handwriting of the address.
+
+"It's from dad!" she cried. "It's a letter from dad!"
+
+She had snatched the letter from between the lawyer's fingers before
+he had the faintest inkling of what she was about to do.
+
+"Miss Patterson," he exclaimed, "give me back that letter."
+
+She retreated, as he showed a disposition to advance. Mr. Elmore
+interposed himself between the lawyer and the lady.
+
+"Steady, Mr. Wilkes, steady. You told me that it would be your duty to
+place that letter in Miss Patterson's hands. It is in her hands. What
+objection have you to offer?"
+
+Whatever protest the lawyer might have been inclined to make he
+apparently came to the conclusion that, at the moment, it would be
+futile to make any. He withdrew himself from Elmore's immediate
+neighbourhood, and observed the lady, as she read the letter. She read
+it without comment to the end. Then she asked:
+
+"When did you get this letter?"
+
+"It reached my office last night, and me this morning; but, as you
+see, it was written on Sunday, and would appear to have been delayed
+in the post."
+
+She turned to Rodney.
+
+"Have you read this letter?"
+
+"It has been read aloud to me, which comes to the same thing."
+
+"You know--what he says at the end?"
+
+"I do; Mr. Wilkes took special care of that."
+
+"Is it true?"
+
+"It is absolutely false. There is not one word of truth in it. It
+comes to me as a complete surprise. Never by so much as a word did
+your father lead me to suppose that he had such thoughts of me. I
+cannot conceive what can have been the condition of his mind when he
+wrote in such a strain. But that letter enables me to begin to
+understand that something must have happened to him mentally, and that
+when he committed suicide he actually was insane."
+
+Miss Patterson tore the letter in half from top to bottom. The lawyer
+broke into exclamation.
+
+"Miss Patterson! What are you doing? You must not do that! Not only is
+it not your letter, but it is a document of the gravest legal
+importance."
+
+Paying him no heed whatever, the girl continued in silence the
+destruction of the letter, going about the business in the most
+thorough-going manner, reducing it to the tiniest atoms. When she had
+finished with the letter itself, she proceeded to dispose of the
+envelope, Mr. Wilkes expostulating hotly all the time, but kept from
+active interference by the insistent fashion with which Mr. Elmore
+prevented him from getting near the lady. Compelled at last to own
+that it was useless to attempt to stay her, he called upon his
+colleague to take notice of the outrage to which the letter was
+subjected, to say nothing of himself.
+
+"Mr. Parmiter, you are witness of what is being done. This young lady,
+with the connivance and, indeed, assistance of this young man, is
+destroying a document of the first importance, which is not only in no
+sense her own property, but which was obtained from me by what is
+tantamount to an act of robbery, accompanied, in a legal sense, by
+violence. Of these facts you will be called upon, in due course, to
+give evidence."
+
+Mr. Parmiter was still, but the lady spoke.
+
+"Are you not forgetting that Mr. Parmiter is my solicitor, and that a
+solicitor cannot give evidence against his own client? I am sorry to
+have to seem to teach you law, Mr. Wilkes. Rodney, have you a match?
+If so, will you please burn these?"
+
+She held out the fragments of the letter. Mr. Wilkes made a final
+attempt at salvage.
+
+"Miss Patterson, I implore you to give me those scraps of paper. It
+may still not be too late to piece them together, and so save you from
+consequences of whose gravity you have no notion."
+
+Once more the young gentleman interposed.
+
+"Steady, Mr. Wilkes, steady!"
+
+"Remove your hand from my shoulder, sir! You are only making your
+position every moment more and more serious!"
+
+Again the lady spoke.
+
+"To use a phrase of which you seem to be rather fond, Mr. Wilkes, in a
+legal sense, I believe this is my room. I must ask you to leave it at
+once."
+
+"Not before you have given me those scraps of paper, Miss Patterson!"
+
+"If you won't go, I shall reluctantly have to ask Mr. Elmore to put
+you out, and, in doing so, to use no more violence than is necessary."
+
+"I entreat you, Miss Patterson, to accept sound advice, and to do
+something which may permit of my repairing the mischief you have
+caused. Give me those scraps of paper."
+
+"Rodney, will you please put Mr. Wilkes out? But please don't hurt
+him!"
+
+The young man put the lawyer out, doing him no actual bodily hurt. He
+conducted him through the outer office to the landing, then addressed
+the astonished Andrews.
+
+"Andrews, this is Mr. Stephen Wilkes; I believe you know him. Give
+instructions that, under no pretext, is he to be admitted to these
+offices again. I shall look to you to see that those instructions are
+carried out. Good-day, sir."
+
+Shutting the door in the lawyer's face, he audibly turned the key on
+the inner side.
+
+"Now, Andrews, would you mind coming into the other room?"
+
+Miss Patterson greeted her cousin with the request she had already
+made. She still had the fragments of the letter between her fingers.
+
+"How about that match, Rodney? Please burn these."
+
+He made a little bonfire of them on the hearth, while she went on:
+
+"I don't suppose you will be very eager now to attend my father's
+funeral in the capacity of mourner."
+
+"I am not. I would much rather not go at all, if you will pardon the
+abstention."
+
+"I would much rather you did not go either--so, Andrews, that is
+settled. Also, be so good as to understand that I should prefer that
+the funeral should not start from Russell Square."
+
+Mr. Patterson's body had been removed from the station to the
+undertaker's, where it at present reposed in a handsome example of the
+undertaker's art. The idea had been to bring it in a hearse to Russell
+Square, whence the funeral cortege was to start. It was this
+arrangement which Miss Patterson wished to have altered. The managing
+man silently acquiesced; there was still time to give instructions
+that all that was left of his late employer was to be taken straight
+from the undertaker's to the cemetery.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXII
+
+                    PHILIP WALTER AUGUSTUS PARKER
+
+
+The four of them went together to the bank, which was within a
+minute's walk. There, the necessary forms being quickly gone through,
+a sum of two thousand pounds was credited to Miss Patterson, power
+being given to Rodney Elmore to draw on her account for such sums as
+were needed for the proper conduct of the business, it being tacitly
+understood that he would draw only such sums as were needed for the
+business. That matter being settled, they separated; Mr. Andrews and
+Mr. Parmiter going their own ways, Miss Patterson and Mr. Elmore
+departing together in a cab to lunch. The cab had not gone very far
+before the young gentleman made a discovery.
+
+"I've left my letter-case on the table in the bank?"
+
+"Your letter-case? Did you? What a nuisance; I never noticed it. Are
+you sure it was on the table?"
+
+"Quite; I remember distinctly; it was under a blotting-pad. What an
+idiot I am! I'm frightfully sorry, but I'm afraid I shall have to go
+back and get it."
+
+"Of course, we will go back."
+
+The cab returned to the bank. The lady remained inside; the gentleman
+passed through the great swing doors--through first one pair, then a
+second--it was impossible to see from the street what was taking place
+beyond. Once in the bank, the young gentleman said nothing about his
+letter-case--it had apparently passed from his memory altogether; but
+he presented at the counter a cheque for a thousand pounds, with his
+own signature attached. He took it in tens and fives, and a hundred
+pounds in gold. If the paying clerk thought it was rather an odd way
+of taking so large a sum, he made no comment. He came back through the
+swing doors with a letter-case held in his hand.
+
+"I've got it," he explained.
+
+He emphatically had, though she understood one thing and he meant
+another. When they had gone some little distance in the direction of
+lunch she observed:
+
+"I wish I were not in mourning. I've half a mind to go back and
+change."
+
+He observed her critically--he was holding one of her hands under
+cover of the apron.
+
+"My dear Gladys, I can't admit that you do look your best in
+mourning."
+
+"Do you think that I don't know that?"
+
+"But you look charming, all the same."
+
+"No, I don't; I look a perfect fright."
+
+"I doubt if you could look a fright even if you tried; I'm certain you
+don't look one now. In fact, the more I look at you the harder I find
+it to keep from kissing you."
+
+"I dare say! You'd better not."
+
+"That's a truth of which I'm unpleasantly aware. Still, if you did
+look like anything distantly resembling a fright, I shouldn't have
+that feeling so strong upon me, should I?"
+
+"You're not to talk like that in a hansom!"
+
+"I'm merely explaining. I suggest that if you do feel like changing,
+you should lunch first, and change afterwards."
+
+"You're coming back with me to Russell Square?"
+
+"Rather!"
+
+"I won't wear mourning--people may say and think what they choose--I
+declare I won't. Did you ever see anything like that letter?"
+
+"It was by way of being a curiosity."
+
+"But, Rodney, he said you were--he said you were all sorts of things!
+What did he mean?"
+
+"Your father was one of those not uncommon men who always use much
+stronger language than the occasion requires--it was a habit of his.
+For instance, when, in spite of his very positive commands, I showed
+an inclination to continue your acquaintance, he as good as told me I
+was a murderer--he said that it was his positive conviction that for
+the sake of a five-pound note I'd murder you."
+
+"Did he really?"
+
+"He did. And I dare say that when you showed no desire to cut me dead,
+he said one or two nice things to you."
+
+"Oh, he did--several. He made out that I was everything that was bad."
+
+"There you are--that's the kind of man he was."
+
+"But didn't he say something about a policeman--and giving you in
+charge?"
+
+"I am sure that he would have given me in charge to twenty policemen
+if he could, and that nothing would have pleased him better than to
+have had me sent to penal servitude for life."
+
+"What I can't make out is--why did he dislike you so?"
+
+"My dear, I'm afraid the explanation is simple--too simple. I don't
+want to hurt your feelings, but I've a notion--a very strong one--that
+he didn't like you. He regarded you as a nuisance; you know how he
+kept you in the background as long as he could; you interfered with
+the sort of life he liked to live; you were in his way."
+
+"He certainly never at any period of his life or mine, showed himself
+over-anxious for my company."
+
+"When you did become installed in town, he had formed his own plans
+for your future. What precisely was the arrangement between them I
+don't pretend to know; but I dare say I shall find out before long--it
+won't need much to induce Wilkes to give himself away; but I am
+persuaded that it was his intention that you should become Mrs.
+Stephen Wilkes."
+
+"But what makes you think so? It seems to me so monstrous. Fancy me as
+Mrs. Stephen Wilkes!"
+
+"Thank you, I'd rather not. It's only a case of intuition, I admit,
+but I'm convinced I'm right, and one day I may be able to give you
+chapter and verse. He was not over-fond of me to begin with, but when
+you appeared on the scene, and he saw that his best laid plans bade
+fair to gang agley, he suddenly began to develop a feeling towards me
+which ended as it has done. It's not a pretty one, but there's my
+explanation. But, sweetheart, that page is ended; let's turn it over
+and never look back at it; and all the rest of the volume--let's try
+our best to make it happy reading."
+
+They ate a fair lunch, considering, and enjoyed it, and afterwards
+returned together in a taximeter cab to Russell Square, feeling more
+tenderly disposed to each other, and at peace with all the world. When
+Miss Patterson had ate and drunk well she was apt to discover a turn
+for languorous sentiment which appealed to Mr. Elmore very forcibly
+indeed. Since, therefore, it was probably their intention to spend an
+amorous afternoon, the shock was all the greater when, on their
+arrival at No. 90, they were greeted in the hall by a tall upstanding,
+broad-shouldered, soldierly-looking man in whom Gladys recognised the
+officer of police who had brought her the news of her father's tragic
+fate.
+
+"Inspector Harlow," she exclaimed. "What--what are you doing here?"
+
+It was perhaps only natural that, drawing away from the policeman
+towards her lover, she should slip her hands through his arm as if she
+looked to him for protection from some suddenly threatening danger.
+Rodney pressed his arm closer to his side, as if to assure her she
+would find shelter there; though, as she uttered the visitor's name,
+he glanced towards him with a look which, as it were, with difficulty
+became an odd little smile. The visitor's manner, when he spoke,
+suggested mystery.
+
+"Can I say half a dozen words with you, Miss Patterson, in private?"
+
+She led the way to the first room to which they came, which chanced to
+be the dining-room, she entering first, then Rodney, the inspector
+last. When he was in he shut the door and stood up against it.
+
+"I said, Miss Patterson, in private."
+
+The inspector had an eye on Rodney.
+
+"We are in private; you can say anything you wish to say before this
+gentleman. This is Mr. Elmore, to whom I am shortly to be married."
+
+"Mr. Elmore?"
+
+As the officer echoed the name the two men's glances met. In the
+inspector's eyes there was an expression of eager curiosity, as if he
+were taken by surprise; Rodney's quick perceptions told him that while
+his name, and probably more than his name, was known to the other, for
+some cause he was the last person he had expected to see; the man was
+studying him with an interest which he did not attempt to conceal. The
+young man, on his side, was regarding the inspector as if he found him
+amusing.
+
+"Well, inspector, when you have quite finished staring at Mr. Elmore,
+perhaps you will tell me what it is you have to say."
+
+The girl's candid allusion to the peculiarity which it seemed she had
+noticed in his manner had the effect of bringing the officer back to a
+consciousness of what he was doing.
+
+"Was I staring? I beg Mr. Elmore's pardon--and yours, Miss Patterson.
+I was only thinking that, under the circumstances, it is a fortunate
+accident that Mr. Elmore should be present."
+
+"You have omitted to state what are the circumstances to which you
+allude."
+
+"I will proceed to supply that omission at once, Miss Patterson. You
+will probably think that they are strange ones; and, indeed, they are;
+but you will, of course, understand that I am only here in pursuance
+of my duty. I have come in consequence of a letter which I received
+this morning. I will read it to you."
+
+He took an envelope from a fat pocket-book.
+
+"It bears no address, and is not dated; but the envelope shows that it
+was posted last night at Beckenham.
+
+
+"'To Inspector Harlow.
+
+"'Sir,--Mr. Graham Patterson did not commit suicide; he was murdered.
+
+"'If you can make it convenient to be at Mr. Graham Patterson's late
+residence, No. 90, Russell Square, to-morrow, Wednesday, afternoon at
+3.30, I will be there also, and will point out to you the murderer.
+
+                          "'Your obedient servant,
+
+                          "'Philip Walter Augustus Parker.'"
+
+
+Silence followed when the inspector ceased to read. The officer was
+engaged in folding the letter and returning it to its envelope; Gladys
+looked as if she were too startled to give ready utterance to her
+feelings in words. Rodney was possibly trying to associate someone of
+whom he had heard with the name of Parker--and failing. His memory did
+not often play him tricks; he was pretty sure that no one of that name
+was known to him. The inspector was the first to speak.
+
+"You will, of course, perceive, Miss Patterson, that the probabilities
+are that this letter is a hoax; the signature, Philip Walter Augustus
+Parker, in itself suggests a hoax. Then there is the absence of an
+address. And, of course, we have the verdict of the coroner's jury,
+and the evidence on which it was found. I am quite prepared to learn
+that I have come to Russell Square, and troubled you with my presence,
+for nothing. But at the same time, in my position, I did not feel
+justified in not coming, on the very off-chance of making the
+acquaintance of Philip Walter Augustus Parker. It is now on the stroke
+of half-past three; we will give him a few minutes' grace, after
+which--if, as I expect will be the case, there are still no signs of
+him--I'll take myself off, with apologies, Miss Patterson. But should
+he by any strange chance put in an appearance, I would ask you to have
+him at once shown in here."
+
+Hardly had the inspector done speaking than there was the sound of an
+electric bell and a rat-tat-tat at the front door. The trio in the
+dining-room could scarcely have seemed more startled had they been
+suddenly confronted by a ghost. The inspector's voice sank to a
+whisper.
+
+"If the name's Parker, would you mind asking the servant--in here?"
+
+A gesture supplied the words he had omitted in his sentence. He held
+the door open so that Gladys could speak to the maid who was coming
+along the hall. She did so, also in lowered tones.
+
+"If that's a person of the name of Parker show him at once in here."
+
+She withdrew; the inspector shut the door; there was a pause; no one
+spoke; each of the three stood and listened. They could hear the front
+door opened and steps coming along the hall. Then the dining-room door
+was opened by a maid, who announced:
+
+"Mr. Parker."
+
+There entered the little man who had followed the example set by
+Rodney of getting out of the train in Redhill Tunnel.
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER XXIII
+
+                        NECESSARY CREDENTIALS
+
+
+The moment he appeared Rodney knew that he had been expecting him;
+that somewhere at the back of his mind there had been a feeling that
+it was he who was coming. His impulse was to take him by the throat
+and crush the life out of him before he had a chance of saying a word;
+which was the impulse of a badly frightened man. But he seldom lost
+his presence of mind for long; and, on that occasion, he had it again
+almost as soon as it had gone; indeed, within the same second he was
+smiling at himself for having allowed himself to be disposed towards
+such crass folly.
+
+So far as Rodney was able to judge the little man was clad just as he
+had been on Sunday evening--in the same shabby tweed suit, the old
+unbrushed boots, with the same suggestion about him that he might
+easily have been improved by a more intimate acquaintance with soap
+and water. He had his hat in one hand, and with the other he rubbed
+his scrubby chin. No one could have seemed more at his ease. Without
+offering any sort of greeting he immediately proceeded to address the
+inspector, while the maid was still closing the door, in that thin,
+unmusical, penetrating voice which Rodney had so much disliked.
+
+"So you are there, Harlow, are you? I wondered if you'd have sense
+enough to come."
+
+He rounded off his sentence with the snigger which had so jarred on
+the young man's sensitive nerves, and which affected Gladys so
+unpleasantly that, with what seemed to be a start of repulsion, she
+moved closer to her lover's side. The stranger noted the movement, and
+commented on it--again with the uncomfortable snigger.
+
+"That's right; get as close as you can; he'll keep you safe; anyone
+will be safe who gets close enough to him. You're Miss Patterson; I
+could tell you anywhere by your likeness to your father. You're not
+the kind of girl I care about, any more than he was the kind of man.
+Who's the youngster? Now, there is someone worth looking at; why, he's
+as handsome as paint, and of quite unusual force of character for so
+young a man. Miss Patterson, the girl who gets him for a lover will
+have a lover of a kind of which she has no notion. He's a most
+remarkable young man."
+
+With a view, perhaps, of checking the stranger's volubility, the
+inspector administered what was possibly meant for a rebuke.
+
+"If you would confine yourself to the business which has brought you
+here, sir, it would be as well. Are you Mr. Parker?"
+
+"I am; Philip Walter Augustus Parker--a lot of name for a man of my
+size."
+
+"You sent me a letter last night from Beckenham?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"Stating that Mr. Graham Patterson did not commit suicide."
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"But was murdered?"
+
+"He was."
+
+"You went on to say that if I were here this afternoon you would point
+out to me the murderer."
+
+"I will."
+
+"Point him out."
+
+"I am."
+
+"I thought so."
+
+"I knew you did. I saw on your intelligent visage that you knew what
+was coming. You have some experience of cranks who accuse themselves
+of crimes of which they are innocent; you take it for granted that I
+am one of them, which shows what a dunce you are. I am a lunatic.
+That's right, Harlow, smile again. I knew that would tickle you. A
+policeman's sense of humour is his own."
+
+"It is necessary, Mr. Parker, that I should warn you that anything you
+say will be taken down and used against you."
+
+"Quite right, Harlow; take it down; but as for using it against me,
+that's absurd. The law does not punish lunatics; whatever they may do
+it holds them guiltless. I'm an example of the inadequacy of the law
+to protect the public from what I may describe as the lunatic at
+large. It is not sufficiently recognised that there is an order of
+dementia which may at any time develop into homicidal mania, and that,
+therefore, a lunatic, unless he is kept in safe keeping, may kill,
+with impunity, whom he pleases--as I have done. I have killed Graham
+Patterson; yet no one may venture to kill me. My life is more sacred
+than that of a sane man in the eyes of the law."
+
+The inspector looked at the girl significantly.
+
+"I think, Miss Patterson, that I had better deal with Mr. Parker
+alone."
+
+"And, Miss Patterson, I think not. What I am about to say will be
+found of interest not only by you, but also by--that extraordinary
+young man. Harlow, your duty is to take down what I am about to say in
+writing; don't exceed it. Shut the door. Miss Patterson will stay
+where she is."
+
+The inspector looked at the lady, as if for instructions. As she gave
+no sign, beyond drawing a little closer to her lover, he shut the
+door, which he had opened a few inches. Mr. Parker beamed at him with
+a grotesque little air of triumph.
+
+"There, Harlow--you see! Now attend to me. Suppose, before I go any
+further, we all sit down; my tale may take some minutes; I don't want
+anyone to get tired of standing. You won't? Very good--then stand.
+There are plenty of chairs, and very comfortable some of them seem;
+but, of course, I don't propose to force you to occupy them if you
+would rather not. Now--attention! To begin at the beginning."
+
+Again he indulged in the uncomfortable sort of laughter which, more
+than anything else, revealed the disorder of the creature's mind.
+
+"On Sunday evening I bolted from my keeper, one Metcalf, in whose
+charge I have been for six or seven months, and of whom I was tired to
+extinction--an unclubable fellow who never talks unless he has
+something to say. I left Brighton station on the 9.10 train. Until the
+train started I was the sole occupant of a first-class carriage, at
+which I was not displeased. I had some idea of committing suicide
+myself. Life, I assure you, has little to offer me. I am just sane
+enough to know that I never shall be saner. There's a wall--a wall
+which I shall never climb, and which shuts me out--from I don't know
+what. If I were left alone--I so seldom am; they won't leave me
+alone!--here would be an excellent opportunity to consider the best
+way out of it. You may fancy, then, what my feelings were when, just
+as the train was starting, another passenger entered--bundled in by an
+extremely officious porter. He would never have caught the train if it
+hadn't been for the porter--in which case he would have been still
+alive--so that one may say, logically, the porter killed him. The
+fellow certainly ought to be punished."
+
+He waved his hat with a gesture which was possibly intended to
+represent the execution of the porter in question.
+
+"The man who had entered my compartment, Miss Patterson, was your
+father--in every respect a most objectionable person, combining in
+himself nearly everything that I most object to--bloated, overfed,
+nearly drunk, horrible to contemplate. He sat there perspiring,
+puffing, panting, gasping for breath; I half expected he would have a
+fit. But, instead of having a fit, before the train had gone very far
+he was asleep, fast asleep. Could any conduct have been more
+disgusting?--drunken sleep! With a man of my stamp at the other end
+of the carriage, could anything have been more insulting? And he
+snored--such snores! I declare to you he made more noise than the
+train did; if that extraordinary young man had been in the next
+compartment he'd have heard him. And his jaw dropped open--it was
+that gave me the idea. Who is it says that trifles light as air lead
+to I don't know what? It was that trifle which led to my killing your
+father, Miss Patterson."
+
+Again the cackling giggle, which made the girl try to draw still
+nearer to her lover, as if the thing were possible.
+
+"Some time before I had come into possession of quite a quantity of
+potassium cyanide; I won't say how--I had. The artfulness of lunatics
+is proverbial, and I'm as artful as any of them; on that point I refer
+you to Metcalf, as well as to others who have had me in their charge,
+both in asylums and out of them--they'll tell you! It was in the form
+of tabloids, looking just like sweeties, in a nice little silver box;
+enough to kill a street. I had meant to use it to kill myself, but at
+the sight of that dreadful man, with his bulging mouth, I thought--why
+not use it to kill him? Pop one into his mouth, and the trick was
+done! I moved inch by inch and foot by foot along the seat towards his
+end of the carriage; he still snored on, paying no attention of any
+sort to me; he was a horrid, vulgar man. At last I was right in front
+of him; I might have been ten miles away for all he knew. How he
+snored, and how his jaws did gape! I had the silver box in one hand
+and a tabloid between the finger and thumb of the other, and I leaned
+forward and popped it into his open mouth."
+
+Mr. Parker illustrated his words by his gestures, with the air of one
+who was telling an amusing tale.
+
+"Oh, what a change came over him! You should have seen it! He snored
+the tabloid right down his throat, and he gave a great gasp and was
+dead. He had not even waked; I am sure that he never knew I was on the
+seat in front of him, or that I was in the carriage at all. There was
+his huge carcase bolt upright in front of me, and I knew that he would
+never snore any more. It made me feel quite odd; it was all so sudden
+and so funny. I daresay it would have made that extraordinary young
+man feel odd, eh?"
+
+He looked up at Rodney with a leer which made his mean, wrinkled face
+all at once seem bestial. But he never faltered in his story, which he
+told with a sniggering relish which lent it a quality of horror which
+no display of dramatic, conscience-stricken intensity could possibly
+have done.
+
+"My idea had been to tell the porters all about it the first time the
+train stopped; it would have been funny to see the fuss they'd have
+made; I shouldn't have cared. But it so happened that the signal was
+against us, and the train stopped in the middle of Redhill tunnel."
+
+The inspector allowed no hint to escape him of what he knew or did not
+know. He kept his eyes fastened on the little man, as if his wish were
+not so much to follow his actual words, but to see something which
+might be behind them.
+
+"When it stopped I had another idea, quite as brilliant as the first.
+Why should I go through the nuisance of a trial for murder? With a
+little management, if this objectionable person were found in a
+carriage by himself, it might be taken for granted that he had
+committed suicide, which would be too funny. So I put the silver box
+open in his fingers, slipped out of the carriage into the tunnel--in
+the darkness no one saw me--waited for the train to go, then walked
+after it, out of the tunnel, up the banks, across the fields to
+Redhill Station; had a drink or two, which I was in want of; went on
+by the 10.40, until at Croydon I was joined by Metcalf, who had got
+there first. For the rest of the tale refer to him."
+
+Continuing, Mr. Parker seemed to address his remarks particularly to
+Rodney:
+
+"You never would have thought that it could be so easy to kill a man,
+and have it brought in as suicide, would you? When I read the report
+of the inquest in the papers, I was amazed to find how easy it
+really was. Then it occurred to me that as, of course, he had been
+murdered--I knew that--why shouldn't I communicate with the police,
+after all? No harm would come to me; lunatics are protected by the
+law. It would be different if he had been murdered by--you; you would
+quite certainly be hung. I shall go to Broadmoor. I have rather a
+fancy for Broadmoor. I am told that they are all of them lunatics
+there; I should like to see. At any rate, they have all of them done
+something; no lunatic I've met ever did anything worth doing. They
+must be interesting people. But certain credentials are necessary for
+Broadmoor, and now I think I've earned them. If the part I've played
+in this little affair of Graham Patterson doesn't qualify me for
+Broadmoor, then I should very much like to know what would. Eh, young
+man, eh?"
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXIV
+
+                            LOVERS PARTING
+
+
+Inspector Harlow having gone, with Mr. Parker as close companion, the
+lovers being again alone together, it was pretty plain that they were
+conscious that, since entering the house, the situation had materially
+changed. Rodney, try how he might, could not erase from his mind, so
+quickly as he wished, the impression that he had been assisting at
+some hideous nightmare. He had supposed, at the sight of the little
+man, that his accuser had come into the room. His nerves were strained
+in the expectation that every moment the charge would be made. Even as
+the instants passed, and he began to see the drift of the tale which
+the man was telling, inventing it as he went on, he had a feeling that
+he was only playing with him as a cat does with a mouse, and that,
+just when it seemed least likely, he would right-about-face and,
+perhaps with that diabolical snigger of his, place the onus of the
+guilt on him. Now that the fellow had actually gone, a self-accused
+prisoner in the inspector's charge, the feeling that he was still
+taking part in some fantastic drama seemed stronger than ever.
+
+Gladys, on her side, when at last she broke the curious silence, which
+prevailed longer than either of them supposed after they had been left
+together, quickly showed that she was obsessed by a mood in which he
+did not know her, in which, as it were, she had slipped out of his
+reach.
+
+"Rodney, do you think that what that man said is true?"
+
+"He seemed to give chapter and verse for most of it."
+
+"But if it's true--dad didn't take his own life!"
+
+"If it's true."
+
+"But don't you see what a difference that makes?"
+
+"Of course it makes a difference; but in what sense do you mean?"
+
+"In every sense--every sense! Do you think--that while he's being
+buried--I should be here--if I had known that he was murdered? He was
+my father."
+
+"In any case he was that."
+
+"Not in any case, not in any case! I may have got him all wrong! I may
+have misjudged! I may--I don't know what I mayn't have done. There's
+the letter!"
+
+"What letter?"
+
+"To Mr. Wilkes. You said, when he wrote it, he was mad, and that
+taking his own life proved it. I thought so. But, if he didn't take
+his own life, what then?" Rodney made an effort to regain his
+self-possession, and partially succeeded.
+
+"My dear Gladys, the whole business is a bad one, whichever way you
+look at it. We are to be married on Monday."
+
+"Monday? Married--to you?"
+
+The knowledge of women on which he was apt to pride himself ought to
+have warned him that this was not the same girl as the one with whom
+he had come back from lunch in the cab. But at the moment he was not
+yet quite himself; his perception was at fault. He made a mistake.
+
+"My dear Gladys, you are perfectly well aware that the arrangement, as
+it stands at present, is that we are to be married on Monday. I was
+merely about to suggest that, as it would seem that this whole
+unfortunate affair is likely to prove too much, we should be married
+to-morrow instead, and then we shall be able to get out of this
+unpleasant atmosphere at the earliest possible moment."
+
+"Stop! stop!"
+
+She shouted at rather than spoke to him.
+
+"Perhaps I shall not be married to you at all."
+
+He stared at her in genuine amazement.
+
+"Gladys! What are you talking about? What do you mean?"
+
+"I don't know what I mean; I almost hope I never may know."
+
+"My dear child; that wretched man."
+
+"Have you ever seen him before?"
+
+"Seen whom?"
+
+"You know quite well. That--wretched man."
+
+"So far as I'm aware, never in my life. What makes you ask such a
+question?"
+
+"Are you sure? Do you swear it?"
+
+"How can a man swear to a thing like that? But I do swear that, to the
+best of my knowledge and belief, I have never seen him before."
+
+"Then how came it that he knew you so well?"
+
+"Knew me so well? Gladys! What are you dreaming about? Why, he never
+even addressed me by name."
+
+"No, I noticed that; but he addressed you all the same. Most of what
+he said was especially addressed to you, as if he knew that you would
+understand."
+
+"What are you driving at?"
+
+"What's more, he saw that I was afraid of you."
+
+"Afraid? You? Why, you could hardly have snuggled closer."
+
+"That was because I was afraid to let you know how afraid of you I
+was."
+
+"Gladys! Has that creature turned your brain?"
+
+"I--I don't know. Oh, if I could only say a few words to dad--if I
+only could!"
+
+"What would they be?"
+
+"I would--ask him--how--he died."
+
+"You have two stories offered for your choice. Are you content with
+neither?"
+
+"Rodney, if my father were standing here now, and his spirit may be,
+would you tell me, in his presence, that you don't know why he
+disliked you?"
+
+"Are you going into that all over again? To what end?"
+
+"What does that man know of you? What does he know?"
+
+"How can I tell what a half-witted man knows of me, or thinks he
+knows? Certainly he knows nothing to my discredit."
+
+"Rodney--don't."
+
+"Don't what?"
+
+"You know! You do know! I can see in your eyes you know! Please go!"
+
+"Sweetheart!"
+
+"Don't--speak to me--like that--now. Go!"
+
+"You surely are not in earnest. You cannot wish me to leave you before
+this extraordinary misunderstanding which has so inexplicably sprung
+up is cleared away. Tell me what is in your mind--frankly, all! I
+quite understand how this wretched man, Parker, may have turned your
+thoughts into unexpected currents and filled you with miserable
+doubts. I assure you he has upset me more than I care to tell you."
+
+"I know that he upset you! I felt you were upset when I was so close
+to you. I can see it now."
+
+If for the moment he was disconcerted--and the lady's manner was
+disconcerting--he slurred it over with creditable skill.
+
+"Come, Gladys; let's try to get back to where we were--to perfect
+understanding. Tell me your doubts, no matter how insoluble they may
+seem to you. I promise you I'll solve them."
+
+"I'm sure you will; I feel you could solve anything, but I am afraid
+of your solution."
+
+Before he had an inkling of her intention she had passed rapidly
+across the floor and from the room.
+
+"Gladys!" he exclaimed.
+
+But it was too late; she had gone. He stood staring at the door
+through which she had vanished, irresolute. Should he follow her,
+possibly to her bedroom, and entreat her for a hearing? For once in
+his life he had been taken wholly unawares; he had not suspected that
+this Gladys was in the Gladys he had known. Often a man lives to a
+ripe old age, ignorant how many women are contained in the one woman
+he knows best. Then, as if unwittingly, his fingers strayed to the
+pocket in which were the proceeds of the cheque he had cashed while
+Gladys, without in the cab, had supposed him to have gone into the
+bank for his letter-case. Apparently the touch decided him; often a
+little thing brought him to an instant decision. Without making any
+further effort to gain the lady's ear, he buttoned his coat across his
+chest, took his hat and stick from off the table, and quietly left the
+house.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXV
+
+                       STELLA'S BETROTHAL FEAST
+
+
+That evening Rodney Elmore was at a dinner given at a famous
+restaurant in honour of his engagement to Stella Austin, quite a
+different sort of meal from that at which he had assisted at the
+Misses Claughton's house in Kensington. If in his manner there was an
+unusual touch of nervousness, it was not unbecoming; the bride that
+was to be was not entirely herself. He met her as, with her father and
+mother, she entered the hall. She said to him, as he fell in by her
+side:
+
+"I did hope, Rodney, that you would have come to fetch me."
+
+"My dear, it's only by the skin of my teeth that I've got here myself!
+Do you think that I wouldn't have come if I could?"
+
+She said nothing in reply, but as she passed towards the ladies'
+cloak-room there was a look on her face which almost suggested tears.
+Her mother's manner, as she greeted him, was not too genial:
+
+"So you are here? Well, I suppose that's something!"
+
+Mr. Austin, as he deposited his hat and coat with the attendant,
+seemed very much in the same key.
+
+"We should have been here some minutes ago, only Stella would have it
+you were coming to fetch her; we should have been waiting for you
+still if she had had her way. How was it you didn't come? She's quite
+disappointed; rather a pity that the evening should have begun with a
+misunderstanding of that sort."
+
+Rodney drew the gentleman aside.
+
+"I take it, Mr. Austin, that you haven't heard the news?"
+
+"To what news do you refer?"
+
+"It is now stated that my uncle did not commit suicide, but was
+murdered."
+
+"But I thought the coroner's jury had returned a verdict of suicide."
+
+"That is so; but this afternoon a man named Parker gave himself up to
+the police, on his own confession, as having murdered my uncle. You
+will understand that I--I have had rather a trying day."
+
+"On his confession? Is the man a lunatic?"
+
+"That's just it; he is, yet it seems only too likely that--he did what
+he says he did."
+
+"But how came he to make his confession in your presence? Do you know
+the man?"
+
+"Not I; he's an entire stranger to me; but I'll tell you all about it
+later. I don't want you to say anything to the ladies or anyone; I
+only mention it to you because I want you to understand how it is that
+I am not in such--such good fettle as I might be for an occasion of
+this kind; and also because I want you, if needs be, to help me with
+Stella."
+
+"My dear boy, of course I will. It is only natural that, at a time
+like this, a girl should think that there's nothing of much
+consequence except her own affairs; but I'll stand by you, never fear.
+I rather wish that the whole thing had been postponed, but Stella
+wouldn't hear of it. There's Tom not at all himself; he wanted Mary
+Carmichael to come, and Stella wanted her to come, in fact, we all
+wanted her to come, but she hasn't. I've been told nothing, but I can
+see there's some trouble there. Altogether the evening doesn't look as
+if it were going to be quite such a merry one as I had hoped it would
+have been; however, we must make the best of it. Cheer up, lad; put
+your troubles behind you for this night only."
+
+That was a prescription which at any rate the prescriber's son did not
+seem at all disposed to follow, as Rodney quickly learnt when Tom
+appeared a little tardily. Tom's naturally good-humoured face wore an
+expression of unwonted gloom, and there was that in his air and
+general bearing which accorded ill with a time of feasting and making
+merry.
+
+"You know, old chap, I oughtn't to be here, I really didn't. I shall
+queer the whole show. Unless I drink too much, and put my spirits up
+that way, I shall give everyone the hump; and when I start on that lay
+I'm apt to get my spirits up a bit too much, so I don't know that that
+will have a good effect either."
+
+Rodney laughed as he put his hand on the speaker's shoulder.
+
+"Why, Tom, what's wrong?"
+
+"I don't know what's wrong, but something's wrong. I do know that.
+When the governor told me about this kick-up to-night, I wrote to Mary
+and told her all about it, and asked her to come up, and so on, and
+said I'd run down to Brighton this morning to bring her up, and told
+her the train I'd come by, and asked her to meet me at the station.
+She didn't meet me at the station--that was shock number one; and then
+when I got to the house, if you please, the servant didn't want to let
+me in--she wanted to make me believe that Mary was out. I wasn't
+taking that; I would go in, and I saw her old aunt--she's an old dear,
+she is. After a while, and she'd told no end of them, she owned up
+that Mary was in all the time she'd been telling them. She was up in
+her bedroom, and had given word that if I called she wouldn't see me.
+You might have bowled me over with an old cork."
+
+"The lady wasn't well."
+
+"Her health was all right; the old girl owned as much. She said Mary
+was perfectly well, but beyond that she wouldn't say anything; and she
+made out that she couldn't; and she wouldn't send a message up, or a
+note, or anything. She said that she knew her niece well enough to be
+sure that that would be no use. But when she saw that I was set, she
+said that if I chose I might go up and try my luck. So, if you please,
+up I went, and rapped at her bedroom door."
+
+"Summoned her to surrender, quite in the good old style; and she did?"
+
+"Not much she didn't. I spoke to her through the bedroom door, I
+called out to her, I as nearly as possible howled; I daresay I rapped
+as many as twenty times--I know I made my knuckles sore But she took
+not the slightest notice, not a sound came from the other side; she
+might have been stone deaf or dead. In fact, I wanted to tell her that
+I felt sure that something dreadful had happened, and that if she
+wouldn't speak I should have to break down the door to see what was
+wrong. But the old girl wouldn't have it. She said that she had had
+enough of that folly, and when I talked about camping out on the
+door-mat she marched me off downstairs, feeling all mops and brooms,
+and all over the place. Then it came out that when I was at the front
+door she had told the old girl that she wouldn't see me, and nothing
+would make her see me, and had rushed up to her bedroom and locked
+herself in. So I came back from Brighton all alone, and the wonder is
+I didn't start to drink and keep on at it; only I had a sort of
+feeling that if I began by being squiffy when I got here things
+wouldn't be so very much brighter; besides, there's always time to
+start that sort of thing if you are set on it."
+
+"My dear old chap, you've done something to upset the lady's
+apple-cart; you'll have a letter telling you all about it in the
+morning."
+
+"I hope so, but I doubt it; I might have known I was feeling too much
+bucked up. You know she never said exactly yes; she sort of let me
+take it for granted, and perhaps I took it a little too much for
+granted; I feel that perhaps that's how it is. But if she's off with
+me, I'm done--clean. She could make a man of me, even the kind of
+article the governor thinks a man; but no one else could. If she won't
+have me, I shall emigrate, that's what I shall do; I shall go to one
+of those cheery spots where you get knocked out by blackwater fever,
+or sleeping sickness, or something nice of that sort, three months
+after you've landed."
+
+Notice being given that dinner was ready, Rodney led Stella into the
+private room in which it was to be served cheerfully enough, bestowing
+on her admiring glances and whispering what he meant to be sweet
+things into her pretty ear as they went.
+
+"My hat! that's a duck of a frock you're arrayed in; you do look
+scrumptious."
+
+"I'm glad you think so."
+
+The maid's manner was a trifle prim; she plainly wished him to
+understand that she was still a little out with him. He smiled at her.
+
+"I don't know what you're laughing at."
+
+"Would you rather I cried?"
+
+"I'm afraid poor Tom feels like crying. Isn't it strange Mary not
+coming, and sending no message, or anything--nothing to explain? Have
+you heard how she treated Tom?"
+
+They had reached the dinner-table, and were settling themselves in
+their places.
+
+"Stella, be so good as to understand, once for all, that there's only
+one subject to-night, and that's you. All other subjects are tabooed.
+Are you quite comfortable? Don't put your chair too far off; so that,
+if you feel like it, you can put your baby foot out towards mine and
+with your wee slipper crush my favourite corn."
+
+"Rodney, I'm glad you are going to talk to me at last, though I don't
+suppose you have thought of me once all day."
+
+"Shall I tell you what I've been looking for ever since I came?"
+
+"I expect for somewhere to smoke."
+
+"I've been looking for--say, a curtained nook, where I can have you
+alone for about five minutes, and have a few of those kisses of which
+I have been dreaming this livelong day."
+
+"If you had come and fetched me you might have had one kiss--in the
+cab."
+
+"I'll have one kiss when I take you back--one!"
+
+"Oh, you are going to take me back?"
+
+"I am; and I'm going to eat you on the way; then you'll understand
+what you escaped by my not fetching you."
+
+"You're not to talk like that; people will hear you."
+
+"Let 'em. Fancy if you'd arrived here with that lovely frock all
+crumpled--two in a cab! People would have wondered what you had been
+doing."
+
+"Rodney, if you will talk like that I shall crush your favourite
+corn."
+
+"Crush it!"
+
+"Please pass me the salt."
+
+Whether, while he passed her the salt, she did crush it, there was
+nothing to show.
+
+The feast passed off better than, at one time, it had promised to do.
+There were about twenty people present. Mr. Austin had whipped up, at
+a moment's notice, various relations, and also certain persons who
+were intimately connected with the firm of which he was head; he
+desired to introduce to them not only his future son-in-law, but also
+the probable partner in his business. Most of these people were very
+willing to be entertained, simple souls, easily pleased, and the
+dinner was a good one. Even Tom, who found himself next to a girl with
+mischievous eyes and a saucy tongue, was inclined to shed some of his
+melancholy before the menu was half-way through.
+
+"I never did meet a girl who says such things as you do," he told her,
+with a frankness which was perhaps meant for laudation. "You are quite
+too altogether."
+
+"You see," she said, with her eyes fixed demurely on her plate, "it
+doesn't matter what one does say to some people, does it?"
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+"Of course some people don't count, do they?"
+
+"By that I suppose you mean that I'm a----"
+
+She did not wait for him to finish.
+
+"Oh, not at all."
+
+She looked at him with innocence in her glance, which was too perfect
+to be real.
+
+"How many times have you been ploughed?"
+
+"Who's been telling you tales about me?"
+
+"I was only thinking that it doesn't matter if one hasn't brains so
+long as one has looks, and you have got those, haven't you?"
+
+Tom's face, as the minx said this, in a voice which was just loud
+enough to reach his ears, would have made a good photographic study.
+Beyond a doubt he was in a fair way to lose some of his sadness, at
+least for the time.
+
+When the cloth had been removed the giver of the feast, getting on to
+his feet, made the usual half jovial, half sentimental references to
+the occasion which had brought them together; and, in wishing the
+young couple well, made special allusion to the fact that he was not
+only welcoming a son, but also a colleague. The toast he ended by
+proposing could not have been better received. Then, while the young
+maiden sat blushing, the young man stood up, and, in a brief yet deft
+little speech, told how happy they all had made him, how the hopes
+which he had cherished for years had at last been realised, how dear
+those hopes had been to him, how unworthy he was of all the good gifts
+which had descended on him. But of this they might be sure, that if he
+had health and strength--and at present he was very well and pretty
+strong, thanking them very much--he would do his very best in the
+years to come to prove that he could at least appreciate those things
+which Providence had bestowed on him. The young man sat down on quite
+a pathetic note, and the girl by his side pressed his hand and looked
+as if this were indeed one of those moments of which she had dreamed.
+
+Then there were other speeches and all sorts of kind things were said,
+which, at such times, one takes it for granted should be said. The
+young man was made much of, and the maiden, if possible, even more.
+And when the feast was really ended, and all the good wishes had been
+wished again and again, and there came the time of parting, even Mr.
+Austin was obliged to confess to himself that everything could
+scarcely have gone off better. His wife was radiant, some of the
+shadows had gone from Tom's face; apparently the young lady with the
+mischievous eyes had in some subtle way, the secret of which she only
+possessed, acted the part of the sun in dispelling the clouds; Stella
+could not by any possibility have looked happier or Rodney prouder.
+Tom, it is believed, saw the young lady with the mischievous eyes home
+in one cab, and it is certain that Rodney was with Stella in another.
+What took place during that journey in the cab between the restaurant
+and Kensington it is not perhaps easy to determine precisely, but
+beyond a doubt Rodney had that one kiss which had been spoken of, and
+probably others; for when the house in Kensington was reached, and the
+young lady ran up the steps to the front door, she was in a state of
+the most delightful agitation. And in the house there was the final
+parting, which occupied a considerable time, for they had to say to
+each other the things which they had already said more than once, and
+which Rodney at least could say so well and to which the girl so loved
+to listen.
+
+"I think that, after all, to-night has made up for to-day. Do you
+know, Rodney," and she looked up into his face with something shining
+in her pretty eyes, "that to-day I have had the most curious fancies?
+I was actually frightened; I don't know at what, but I do know that
+somehow it was because of you. Wasn't it silly?"
+
+"I am not sure that it's ever silly for you to be frightened because
+of me; I'm in the most delicious terror all day, and sometimes all
+night, because of you; but you are a goose."
+
+Then he held her perhaps a little closer, and whispered:
+
+"It has been something of a night, hasn't it? For the first time in my
+life I feel as if I were a person of some importance. You couldn't
+have your betrothal feast again to-morrow, could you?"
+
+She smiled.
+
+"I doubt it; but we might have a silver betrothal feast as well as a
+silver wedding. Hasn't that sort of thing ever been done?"
+
+He laughed at the conceit, and when the parting really did come she
+was looking forward as through a dim mist, towards that silver time at
+which he had hinted; and when she went upstairs she prayed that after
+five-and-twenty years of married life she might be as happy as she was
+then. And all night she slept sweetly, dreaming the happiest dreams of
+all that took place during the passage of the years, through which she
+walked with the husband whom she loved so dearly, ever heart in heart
+and hand in hand. That night was to her a halcyon time.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXVI
+
+                              GOOD NIGHT
+
+
+When Rodney Elmore went home, as his cab drew up in front of his
+lodgings a man came quickly across the road and stood so that he was
+between him and the entrance to the house.
+
+"Mr. Rodney Elmore?"
+
+Rodney looked him up and down. It was not a very good light just
+there, but it was clear enough for him to recognise the man who had
+greeted him. For the first time in his life a feeling that was
+something very like dizziness went all over him, so that he all but
+reeled; but that self-control which so seldom quitted him except for
+the briefest instant was back before it had actually gone. He did not
+reel, but stood quite still, and, with a smile upon his face, looked
+the man fairly and squarely in the eyes.
+
+"That is my name--I am Rodney Elmore; but you, sir--pray, who are
+you?"
+
+"My name is Edward Giles. But I don't think that that can mean much to
+you, Mr. Elmore."
+
+"I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Giles, but, as you say, your name
+does convey absolutely nothing to me. What is it that I can have the
+pleasure of doing for you at this latish hour?"
+
+The man was silent for a moment. Then a curious smile flitted across
+his face as he came a half-step nearer.
+
+"Think, Mr. Elmore. I shouldn't be surprised if you had rather a good
+memory. Don't you remember me?"
+
+"Not the least in the world, Mr. Giles."
+
+"It isn't so very long ago since you saw me."
+
+"Indeed! I presume it was on rather a special occasion, Mr. Giles,
+since you appear to be rather anxious to recall it to my
+recollection."
+
+"It was rather a special occasion for you, Mr. Elmore; and a still
+more special occasion--for Mr. Patterson."
+
+"My uncle?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Elmore, your uncle. Don't you remember last Sunday evening
+at Brighton station?"
+
+Rodney hesitated.
+
+"Why do you ask?"
+
+"You do remember, Mr. Elmore, and so do I. I can see you still, coming
+sauntering down the platform smoking a cigarette and looking into the
+first-class carriages to see which of them would suit you best. You
+chose one, and then stood for a moment or two at the door, looking up
+and down the platform, to see, as it were, if there was anything which
+caught your eye. Then you got into the carriage, and took the seat at
+the farther end, facing the engine. You thought you were going to
+journey up all alone, but just as the train was starting a stout,
+elderly gentleman came bustling along. Yours was the only carriage
+door that was open, and I helped him in. I shut the door, and you went
+out of the station together. Don't you remember that? Look at me
+carefully. Don't you remember that I was the party who helped your
+uncle into your carriage? Just look at me and think."
+
+Again Rodney hesitated, and seemed to think. Then he said, in a tone
+the indifference of which was perhaps a trifle studied:
+
+"Really, Mr. Giles, I don't quite know what it is you expect me to
+say."
+
+The man gave a little laugh.
+
+"Anyhow, Mr. Elmore, you've said it."
+
+Without an attempt at a farewell greeting, he walked quickly back
+across the street, to where, as Rodney had been aware, another person
+had been waiting.
+
+The pair walked briskly off together side by side, and Rodney went up
+the steps into the house. He knew that, as he had expected, the
+presence of that platform inspector was going to prove awkward for
+him; more awkward than he cared to think. But he did think, as he
+turned into his sitting-room; and still stood thinking as the door was
+gently opened and Mabel Joyce came in. Her agitation was almost
+unpleasantly evident. One could see that her hands were trembling,
+that her lips were twitching, and that, indeed, it was all she could
+do to keep her whole body from shaking. She came quickly towards the
+table, and leaned upon the edge; plainly it was a very real assistance
+in aiding her to stand. And her voice was as tremulous as her person.
+
+"Did--did you see him?"
+
+"My dear Mabel, did I see whom?"
+
+She seemed to clutch the table still more tightly.
+
+"Rodney, don't! It's no good. Do you think I don't know? What's the
+good of pretending with me, when you know--I know? What cock-and-bull
+story is this about some man, some fool, some lunatic, who says--he
+did it? Do you think that I don't know, that Mr. Dale doesn't
+know, that they all don't know? Rodney," and her voice trembled so
+that it was with pain she spoke at all, "there'll--there'll--be a
+warrant--out--in the morning. Oh, my God! my God!"
+
+And the girl threw herself forward on the table, crying and trembling
+as if on the verge of a convulsion.
+
+"What on earth, Mabel, is the use of spoiling your pretty face like
+this? I am a little worried to-night, and that's the truth. If there's
+anything you want to say to me, old girl, say it, and have done with
+it."
+
+He sighed. She raised herself from the table, and looked across at
+him.
+
+"Rodney, it won't be any use our marrying." There was a big sob. "That
+won't save you--now. God knows what will."
+
+"It's really very good of you to worry about the sort of man that I
+have been to you; take my tip, my dear, don't worry. I'll win
+through."
+
+"But how? How? You don't understand! This--this fool, whoever he is,
+who pretends he did it, has only made them all the keener. They--they
+mean to have you now."
+
+"They? And who are _they?_"
+
+"There's Dale, and Giles, and Harlow, and--and don't ask me who
+besides. They're all wild because--because you tricked them; because
+they made such idiots of themselves at the inquest."
+
+Rodney raised his arms above his head, and stretched himself, and
+yawned, as if he were a little weary.
+
+"They were a trifle premature; coroner, and jury, an eminent
+specialist, and Harlow, and all--the whole jolly lot of them. I don't
+wonder they feel a trifle wild. But why with me?"
+
+"You know, Rodney--you know! You know! Oh, don't--don't pretend!"
+
+"On my word of honour--if it's any use employing that pretty figure of
+speech with you--I am not pretending. I've still another trick in the
+bag; that's all. And that's what you don't give me credit for, my
+dear."
+
+"What--what trick's that? You've too many tricks--you're all tricks!
+It's--Rodney, it's--it's too late for tricks!"
+
+"But not for this pretty trick of mine. Mabel, it's such a pretty one!
+But now you listen to me for a moment. Pull yourself together. Stand
+up; let me see your face."
+
+She did as he bade her, and stood, leaning on the table with both her
+hands, looking at him with eyes from which the tears were streaming.
+
+"Mabel, you asked me to marry you. I said I would, and I will."
+
+"But--what's the use of it now? You don't understand."
+
+"Oh, yes, I do; I don't know if I can get you to believe me, but I do
+understand much better than you suppose; and, indeed, I rather fancy
+even better than you do. Anyhow, the supposition is that we're to be
+bride and bridegroom, dear, to-morrow; let's for goodness' sake be
+friends to-night. Let's try to say, at any rate, one or two pleasant
+things, as, not so very long ago, we used to do. What's going to come
+of it all you seem doubtful, and I can hardly pretend that I'm quite
+sure. I don't suppose, Mabel, that you ever read Dante, or, perhaps,
+even heard of him. But, in a tolerably well-known poem by Dante, there
+is this story. He goes down, with a party named Virgil, into one of
+the lowest depths of hell, and there he meets a poor devil who seems
+to be having an uncommonly bad time. They ask him what he has done
+that he should suffer so, and he answers something to this effect. He
+has it that his creed was a very simple one. He believed, and he acted
+on his belief, that one moment of perfect bliss was worth an eternity
+of hell, He had that perfect moment, the lucky bargee! And now for
+ever he's in hell. Yet, do you know, he isn't sorry; he thinks that
+moment was worth the price he paid. That's a moral story, and I don't
+pretend that I've got it quite right; but that's what it comes to;
+and, upon my word, I'm sometimes half disposed to think that that
+man's creed is mine. I guess it would be rather too much to ask you to
+make it yours; but--this you'll grant--we have had our moments of
+bliss, which was nearly perfect. Now, haven't we?"
+
+"I--I don't know why you're talking to me like this. I--I know we
+have. Oh, Rodney, how--how I wish we hadn't!"
+
+"Well, I don't--and I rather fancy I'm in a worse fix than you. But,
+as I live, when I think of the fun we've had, I don't care--that." And
+he snapped his fingers. "They can do as they please, but they can't
+take from me my memories; and if I'm face to face with hell--I'll
+carry them there."
+
+He held out his hands to her with a little gesture of appeal. "Lady,
+talking will do no good, so let's say pretty things. Sweetheart, I'll
+be shot if I won't call you sweetheart, look you never so sourly at
+me!"
+
+"Oh, Rodney, I--I don't want to look sourly at you! Sourly! Oh, my
+dear, if you only knew!"
+
+"I do know, and that's just it. I want you to know. Sweetheart, good
+night!"
+
+He still held out his hands to her. As she looked at him, with
+straining eyes, she seemed to waver.
+
+"Rodney!"
+
+"Good night. Come here and say it--or shall we meet half-way?"
+
+He moved towards her round the table, and she, as if she could not
+help it, moved towards him. And they said good night.
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER XXVII
+
+        THE GENTLEMAN'S DEPARTURE AND THE LADY'S EXPLANATIONS
+
+
+In the morning early Mabel Joyce knocked at the door of Mr. Elmore's
+bedroom with a jug of shaving water in her hand; knocked softly, as if
+she did not wish to rouse the sleeper too abruptly from his rest. When
+no answer came she clung to the handle of the door, as a tremor seemed
+to pass all over her; then, presently, knocked again. Still no reply.
+She bent her head towards the panel, listening intently. Then,
+suddenly, decisively, rapped three times and waited. Still no reply.
+With a quick movement she turned the handle and passed into the room;
+and, when in, closed the door rapidly behind her, standing with her
+back against it, in an attitude of one who was afraid. She looked
+towards the bed. It was empty; the sleeper had awaked himself from
+slumber, had risen, and had gone. Putting the jug beside her on the
+floor, she passed quickly towards the bed; leaning over it, she stared
+at something which caught her eye upon the pillow. On the white slip
+was a dark red stain. She put out her hand, clutched it with her
+finger, withdrew her finger, and looked at it. Part of the redness
+had passed from the pillow to the tip of her finger. All at once
+she dropped on to her knees beside the empty bed, and, bowing her
+head upon the coverlet, stayed motionless. Then rose again to
+her feet, looking round her. Her glance caught something on the
+dressing-table--an envelope. Moving towards it, she snatched it up.
+It was addressed, simply, "Mrs. Joyce." Although it seemed scarcely
+likely that such an address was intended for her, she ripped open
+the flap, and took out the sheet of paper it contained.
+
+
+"DEAR MRS. JOYCE,--I'm off, to another world--the world beyond the
+grave. I'm more of a coward than I thought; and yet I don't know that
+it's quite that. I have tried to cut my throat in bed--your bed; but
+my hand bungled. I have made rather a mess--and then I stopped. It
+seemed rather a pity to spoil your bedclothes, and I did not like to
+feel the razor. I am going to do it another way--outside your house,
+in a place I know of, where I hope no one will ever find me. I want no
+coroner to sit upon my body, and I want no jury to make me the subject
+of their silly verdicts.
+
+"I have heaps of reasons--I dare say you'll hear enough about them
+before long. I'd rather you heard of them than other people heard of
+them, when I am not here. It is because I am so anxious that the
+hearing should take place behind my back that I am going. I don't
+quite know what I owe you, but I believe I'm a little in arrears.
+You'll find ten pounds on the table; it should more than pay you, and
+even make up for the week's notice which I have not given. All my
+possessions that I leave behind--and there are quite a number of
+decent suits of clothes--are yours. Do as you like with them. If you
+sell them, and get the price you ought to get, you should not do
+badly.
+
+"Tell everybody what I have told you, and, if you like, show them this
+letter. You have not been a bad landlady; I don't suppose I shall be
+better suited where I am going; nor have I been a bad lodger; if you
+get a better you'll be in luck.
+
+"Say good-bye to Mabel. There is a portrait of a kind in the locket
+which you will find near this envelope. I think I should like her to
+have it, as one to whom I am indebted for many favours.--Your one-time
+lodger,
+
+                                      "RODNEY ELMORE.
+
+"Do you think I shall find it lonely where I am going? I wonder!"
+
+
+The girl, having read this letter to the end, caught up an
+old-fashioned locket; doubtless the one referred to. Opening it, there
+looked out at her the young man's face--a miniature, not ill-done. She
+pressed it to her lips, not once, nor twice, but again and again and
+again. Then, shutting it, slipped it inside her blouse. She gave
+another rapid glance about the room, moved hither and thither as if to
+make sure that there was nothing left which might tell more than need
+be told; then, passing hastily from the room, went not downstairs to
+her mother but upstairs to the lodger overhead. At his door she also
+knocked. Response was instant.
+
+"Who's there? Come in!"
+
+She went in. Mr. Dale was sitting up in bed She stayed close to the
+door.
+
+"He's gone!" she said.
+
+Mr. Dale, although he seemed but recently roused from sleep, seemed to
+grasp her meaning in a moment.
+
+"Gone where?"
+
+"He's left this."
+
+She tossed the letter she had been reading so dexterously that it fell
+just before him on the bed. He caught it up and read.
+
+"What's it mean?" he asked. She seemed to consider for a moment.
+
+"You know as well as I do."
+
+"I suppose I do--when you come to think of it. He's a beauty--a
+shining star!" He stared at the letter. "What does he mean?"
+
+"At any rate, he means one thing--he's gone." Mr. Dale leaned back,
+looking at the girl as if he were endeavouring to find something on
+her face which should give him a hint what to say next. When he spoke
+again it was slowly, as if he measured his words; yet bitterly, as if
+behind them was a meaning which scarcely jumped to the eye.
+
+"Look here, Mabel, this isn't going to be an easy thing to do. I'm
+going to have all my work cut out if it's to be managed. You know what
+I mean by managed. And, as I'm alive, I don't want to do it for
+nothing--and I don't mean to."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"If the tale's not to be told--you know what tale--it must be on
+terms. I won't ask what this chap's been to you, because I believe I
+know. He's been--a blackguard; that's what he's been to you; and, on
+my word I believe you women like a man who's a blackguard. But I don't
+want to talk about that now."
+
+"I shouldn't, especially as I expect mother will be calling me before
+you've done."
+
+The shade of sarcasm in the girl's tone made the man regard her with
+knitted brows.
+
+"Never you mind about your mother; I know all about her. For once in
+your life you'll just listen to me. Mr. Rodney Elmore has gone,
+vanished from the scene--he's dead; here's this letter to prove it
+to anyone who doubts it." The speaker grinned. "I'm not dead; I'm
+alive--very much alive; and I want you to take a particular note of
+that."
+
+"Do you think I don't know that you're alive?"
+
+Mr. Dale's tone grew suddenly fierce.
+
+"I haven't got Mr. Rodney Elmore's pretty tone, nor his pretty
+manners, nor his pretty words; but I do care for you." He laughed.
+"Care for you! Why, I'd eat the dirt you walk on; and you've made me
+do it more than once. Mabel, if I keep my mouth shut, and get others
+to keep theirs shut, will you stop treating me as if I were dirt, and
+treat me as if I were a man?"
+
+"I'll treat you as you like; I'll do whatever you like; I'll be your
+slave, if--if you do that."
+
+She stood close up against the door, with both hands pressed against
+her breast, and her words seemed to come from her in gasps. As he saw
+that in very truth she suffered, his whole bearing underwent a sudden
+change. He all at once grew tender.
+
+"Mabel, I'll make no bargain; I'll do it--for your sake; and--I'll
+trust to you for my reward."
+
+With odd suddenness she turned right round, so that her back was
+towards him, and her face pressed against the panel of the door. Her
+pain seemed to hurt him.
+
+"For God's sake don't--don't do that! I'd rather--do what he's only
+pretended to do than give you pain. Cheer up--just try hard to cheer
+up, if it's only just enough to help you to know what ought to be done
+next."
+
+The suggestion affected her in a fashion which perhaps took him a
+little aback. She turned again as suddenly as she had done before,
+this time towards him. Her eyes blazed; the words came swiftly from
+her lips.
+
+"Do you think that I don't know what I'm going to do next? Do you
+think it hasn't been in my mind all night? Why, I've got it all cut,
+and planned, and dried. Leave that to me; all I want is for you to
+see"--her voice fell--"the tale's not told."
+
+"It sha'n't be if I can help it; and I think I can."
+
+The words still came swiftly from her.
+
+"Say nothing to mother, say nothing to anyone; leave me to do all the
+telling--you know nothing; that's all you've got to know. You
+understand?"
+
+His voice as he replied was grim.
+
+"Oh, yes, I understand."
+
+"Then, for the present, it's good-bye."
+
+She opened the door. He checked her.
+
+"I shall see you to-night when I come in."
+
+"You shall; if--if nothing's been told."
+
+She went from the room to her own on the landing below, put on her
+hat, her coat, and her gloves, and went quickly down the stairs.
+Seldom was a pretty girl ready more quickly for the street. She
+already had the front door open when her mother called to her.
+
+"Mabel, what to goodness is the matter with you? Where are you going?"
+
+The girl seemed for a moment to be in doubt whether or not to let her
+mother's question go unheeded; then decided to vouchsafe her at least
+some scraps of information.
+
+"Mother, I believe Mr. Elmore's gone."
+
+"Gone? Mr. Elmore? What's the girl talking about?"
+
+"His bedroom's empty, and there's ten pounds on the dressing-table,
+and I'm going straight off to the City to see."
+
+"To the City!"
+
+The astonishment of the lady's voice was justified; she came quickly
+along the passage as if to learn what might be the significance of the
+mystery which she felt was in the air. But her daughter did not wait
+for her approach; she was through the door, had shut it with a bang,
+before her mother had realised what it was she meant to do.
+
+Miss Joyce did not go to the City; she went instead to No. 90, Russell
+Square. There she inquired for Miss Patterson. She was told the lady
+was at breakfast.
+
+"Tell her--tell her that I'm Miss Joyce, and that I must see her--at
+once."
+
+She was in the hall, and looked so strange as she leaned against the
+wall, with her white face and frightened eyes, that the maid looked at
+her as if she could not make her out at all.
+
+"Miss Joyce, did you say the name was?"
+
+"Yes--Joyce--Mabel Joyce; tell Miss Patterson that Miss Joyce must see
+her at once."
+
+The maid went into a room upon the right--the dining-room--presently
+reappeared, with Miss Patterson behind her. Gladys came out into the
+hall.
+
+"Miss Joyce! You wish to see me? On what business?"
+
+"Somewhere--somewhere where we'll be private."
+
+Gladys observed her with curious eyes; then she held open the
+dining-room door.
+
+"I'm at breakfast; but, if you don't mind, you'd better come in here."
+
+Mabel went in, Gladys followed. The stranger, now that they were
+alone, presented such a woebegone picture that, in spite of herself,
+Gladys was moved.
+
+"You don't seem well--are you ill? Hadn't you better sit down?--here's
+a chair."
+
+She pushed the chair towards her visitor, but Mabel would none of it.
+
+"No, it doesn't matter, I'd--I'd rather stand. My mother was Mr.
+Elmore's--landlady."
+
+"Joyce? Oh, yes, of course, I thought I knew the name; I remember."
+Perhaps unconsciously to herself, Gladys's tone hardened; she drew
+herself a little straighter, she even moved a little away. In spite of
+her obvious trouble, Mabel noticed.
+
+"You needn't be afraid of me--I shan't bite."
+
+"I was not afraid that you would bite. What is it you wish with me,
+Miss Joyce?"
+
+"That."
+
+She stretched out towards the other a letter. Gladys eyed it askance,
+almost, one might have thought from her demeanour, that she feared
+that it might bite.
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"If you take it--you'll see. You're right this time in being afraid;
+you've cause to be more afraid of that than of me. But it's written by
+somebody you know well, and--you'd better read it."
+
+Still doubtfully, as if she really were in awe of what the sheet of
+paper might portend, she took it gingerly from the other's fingers.
+Then she read it. And as she read, a curious change came over, not
+only her countenance, but her whole bearing. When she had reached the
+end her hands dropped to her side, she stared at the girl in front of
+her as she might have done at a visitant from another sphere.
+
+"What--does this letter mean?"
+
+For answer, Mabel took another piece of paper from that woman's
+universal pocket--her blouse. She held it out to Gladys, and, even
+more cautiously than before, Gladys took it with unwilling fingers.
+This time, as she read it, it was with an obvious lack of
+comprehension.
+
+"What on earth is this?"
+
+"Can't you see? Isn't it plain enough? It's a marriage licence--now
+can you see?"
+
+Gladys seemed to make an effort to achieve steadiness, not with entire
+success. As if to hide her partial failure, she went down the room to
+the seat which she had been occupying at the other end of the table.
+Resting her hand on the top of the chair, raising the paper again, she
+re-read it. Her back was towards Mabel, her face could not have been
+more eloquent, one saw a spasm pass right across it. She was still;
+there was a perceptible interval; she turned towards her visitor. Her
+face seemed to have aged; one saw that as she grew older she would not
+grow better-looking.
+
+"I see that this purports to be a licence of marriage--I don't know
+much about these things, but I take it that the marriage was to be
+before a registrar--between Rodney Elmore, who, I presume, is my
+cousin----"
+
+"He's your cousin right enough."
+
+"And--Mabel Joyce. Are you the Mabel Joyce referred to?"
+
+"I am; we were to have been married to-day--at noon sharp; the
+registrar--he'll be waiting for us, but he'll have to wait. Mr. Rodney
+Elmore, that's your cousin and my husband that was to be, he's
+bolted."
+
+"Bolted? I see. Is that what this letter means?"
+
+"That's just exactly what it means."
+
+"It doesn't mean that--he's--he's killed himself?"
+
+"Not much it doesn't; I know the gentleman. It simply means that, for
+reasons of his own--I'm one of them and I daresay you're another--he's
+cut and run."
+
+Gladys's tone could scarcely have been more frigid or her bearing more
+outwardly calm; unfortunately both the frigidity and the calmness were
+a little overdone.
+
+"I see. I'm much obliged to you for bringing me--this very interesting
+piece of news. I believe this is yours. I scarcely think I need detain
+you longer."
+
+She returned to Mabel both the licence and the letter. Enclosing them
+one in the other, the girl passed from the room out of the house.
+Gladys stood staring at the door through which she had left, exactly,
+if she could only have known it, as Rodney had stared when she had
+vanished the afternoon before. Then she clenched her fists and shook
+them in the air.
+
+"To think that I should ever have been such a fool! That I should ever
+have let him--soil me with his touch! Dad was right; what a fool he
+must have thought me! If I'd only listened, what might not--have been
+saved!"
+
+Shortly afterwards she entered the office at St. Paul's Churchyard.
+Andrews advanced to greet her.
+
+"Mr. Elmore has not yet arrived."
+
+"I know he hasn't; I wish to speak to you."
+
+She led the way towards her father's private room; as he followed
+Andrews seemed to recognise something in her carriage which recalled
+his master. There could be no doubt that this was his daughter. When
+they were in the room and the door was closed, Miss Patterson seated
+herself in her father's chair. She looked the managing man in the
+face, with something in her glance which again recalled her sire.
+
+"Andrews, I suppose you can observe a confidence?"
+
+Andrews smiled; he rubbed his hands together; one felt that he could
+not make out the lady's mood, still less achieve a satisfactory guess
+at what was in the air.
+
+"I hope so, Miss Patterson, I'm sure. Your father reposed many and
+many a confidence in me, and I never betrayed one of them--I'm not
+likely now to betray yours."
+
+"Right, Andrews, I believe you. I believe my father knew the kind of
+man who may be trusted; he trusted you, and I will. Shake hands." She
+offered him her hand. As if doubtful whether or not he was taking a
+liberty, he took it in his. They gravely shook hands.
+
+"It's very good of you, Miss Patterson, I'm sure, to say so; but what
+you do say is true--your father trusted me, and so can you."
+
+She eyed him for some seconds as if debating in her mind what to say
+to him and just how to say it. Then it came from her, as it were, all
+of a sudden.
+
+"Andrews, I told you that my cousin, Rodney Elmore, and I were engaged
+to be married. I was mistaken--we are not. Stop! I don't want you to
+ask any questions; that's the confidence I'm reposing in you, I want
+you to ask none, I simply tell you we're not. Another thing. You told
+me when I came in just now that Mr. Elmore had not come yet. Andrews,
+he never will come again--to this office."
+
+"Indeed, miss! Is that so, miss?"
+
+The girl smiled--gravely.
+
+"There, again, Andrews--my confidence! You are to ask no questions.
+Neither you nor I will see Mr. Elmore again--ever. Still one other
+thing. You remember what my father said in his will about leaving the
+conduct of his business in your hands? I echo my father's words; I
+want you to manage it for me on my father's lines."
+
+The old man was evidently confused. He stood staring at the girl and
+rubbing his hands, as if he found himself in a quandary from which he
+sought a way out.
+
+"I'm sure, Miss Patterson, that I'm very gratified by the confidence
+you place in me, and I want to do my best to ask no questions,
+but--but there's one remark I ought to make." He bent over the table
+as if he wished the remark in question to reach her ear alone. "I
+don't know, Miss Patterson, if you are aware that yesterday morning
+Mr. Elmore drew a thousand pounds from the bank."
+
+"Yesterday morning? When did he do that? Not when we were there?"
+
+"It appears that he returned directly after we had left, and cashed a
+cheque for a thousand pounds across the counter, took it in tens and
+fives and gold--rather a funny way of taking a cheque like that."
+
+The girl said nothing; just possible she thought the more--it is still
+more possible that hers was disagreeable thinking. It came back to
+her; she understood; the letter-case which had been left behind; her
+sitting in the cab while he had gone into the bank to fetch it.
+Letter-case? So the letter-case was a cheque for a thousand pounds;
+and while she'd been sitting in the cab he had been putting her money
+into his pocket. What a pretty fellow this cousin was, this lover
+of--how many ages ago? Could she ever have cared, to say nothing of
+loved, a thing like this? This girl had a sense of humour which was
+her own; at the thought of it she smiled--indeed, suddenly she leaned
+back in her chair and laughed outright.
+
+"Cashed a cheque for a thousand pounds, did he? Well, Andrews, dad
+left him nothing in his will--I wonder why. How funny! Then there's
+still another thing to tell you, Andrews. Let them understand at the
+bank, as quickly as you can, that they're not to cash any more of Mr.
+Elmore's cheques which are drawn on my account. Now, Andrews, will you
+be so very good as to send someone to Mr. Wilkes, and give him my most
+respectful compliments, and say, if he can possibly spare a moment, I
+should like very much indeed to see him here at once."
+
+When Miss Joyce got home she found, waiting in the sitting-room which
+had so recently been Rodney's, Mr. Austin. The gentleman regarded her
+as she came in with an air of grave disapprobation.
+
+"You are, I believe, the landlady's daughter."
+
+Mabel nodded.
+
+"I have just had a few words with your mother, who appears to be an
+extraordinary woman, and who has told me an extraordinary tale."
+
+"My mother's not in the habit of telling extraordinary tales to
+anyone."
+
+"Then, what does she mean by--by talking stuff and nonsense about Mr.
+Elmore's having gone, and--and I don't know what besides?"
+
+Miss Joyce drew a long breath, and seemed to nerve herself for an
+effort. She had had a good deal to bear that morning, and to retain
+even a vestige of self-command needed all her efforts.
+
+"Mr. Austin, Mr. Elmore has gone, and he's left a letter behind him in
+which he pretends that he has committed suicide; but he hasn't, I know
+better. But here's the letter; you might like to look at it."
+
+He read the letter with which we are already familiar; and it had a
+very similar effect on him to that which it had had on others, only in
+his case he read it over and over again, as if to make sure that its
+meaning had not escaped him, yet that its meaning had escaped him his
+words made plain.
+
+"You--you may understand this letter, young woman, but I certainly do
+not. What--what does this most extraordinary, and, as it seems to me,
+inconsequent, letter mean?"
+
+"I'll tell you just as shortly as I can exactly what it means. And,
+perhaps, when I have told you you won't ask any more questions than
+you can conveniently help, because--I've had just about as much to
+bear as I can manage. Rodney Elmore--I'm not going to call him Mr.
+Elmore, I've as much right to call him Rodney as anybody in this
+world; he's got himself into a mess, and I'm one of them. Why, he
+promised to marry me to-day at twelve o'clock."
+
+"He--promised! Young woman!"
+
+"Here's the licence to prove it; but--I suppose he daren't face it; so
+he's gone, and he's done me, and I'm not the only one he's done. Has
+he done your daughter?"
+
+"Your question, put in such a form, I entirely decline to answer."
+
+"You needn't; I know. And, mind you, I don't believe he's gone alone
+either, wherever it is he has gone to. What's the name of that girl
+down at Brighton that he was so thick with, and your son's
+sweetheart?"
+
+Mr. Austin started as if something had stung him. He stared at the
+girl with growing apprehension.
+
+"You can't mean----?"
+
+"Yes, I can. Wasn't her first name Mary? I have heard the other--it's
+a queer one--and I forget it. But you ask your son, if he cares for
+the girl, to make inquiries, and if she's missing, and he wants her
+new address, to find out Rodney Elmore's, and--he'll find hers."
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+                       A CONSPIRACY OF SILENCE
+
+
+There are few worse half-hours in life than that in which a man finds
+that the one person whom he has liked, and respected, and trusted, and
+believed in before all others, is a scamp, a liar, and a cur. As Mr.
+Austin sat cowering in the corner of his cab it was to him almost as
+if he had been these things, instead of Rodney Elmore. He ascended the
+steps of the Kensington house a little stiffly, a little bowed, a
+little shorn of his full height; he bore himself, indeed, as if he
+were ashamed; it was with a sense of shame that he spoke to his son,
+who was apparently just about to go out as he went in.
+
+"Tom, I want to speak to you."
+
+The lad looked at his father with a look of surprise.
+
+"Why, pater; what's wrong?"
+
+The father closed the door of the room into which he had preceded his
+son. There was something shifty in his bearing; he seemed unwilling to
+meet the youngster's glances.
+
+"Tom, what was that you were saying about--about Mary Carmichael?"
+
+The lad smiled, ruefully enough; there was an awkwardness about his
+manner. He turned away, as if on his side he had no wish to meet his
+father's eyes.
+
+"All I can make out is that she has gone. It seems that while that old
+aunt of hers was out yesterday afternoon--she vanished. She just left
+a note behind her to say that she was going, and that they weren't to
+bother, because she wasn't coming back; but they'd hear from her some
+day--she couldn't say just when."
+
+"Tom, she's gone with Rodney Elmore."
+
+The lad swung round as on a pivot.
+
+"Pater! What do you mean?"
+
+The father told the story as he knew it, the lad listening--first as
+one in a dream, and then as one in a rage. Then, with a gasp as of
+astonishment, he blurted out:
+
+"But what about Stella?"
+
+"Yes; what about Stella? Stella's here, and--why, where's Rodney? I
+thought, father, he'd come with you."
+
+Miss Austin had come running into the room eagerly, happily,
+laughingly, taking it for granted that her lover was within. As she
+looked from her father to her brother, and noted the oddity of their
+manner, her eyes grew wider open.
+
+"Father, where--where is Rodney?"
+
+Then the father told the tale to her; it was the hardest task he had
+ever had to perform. The girl first scorned him, then laughed, then
+doubted, and then, in a fit of what was very like fury, announced her
+intention of going in search of Rodney, whom she declared she believed
+to be cruelly aspersed, and learning the truth from his own lips. It
+was with difficulty she was stayed. When she, at last, was brought to
+understand, she was already another Stella to the one her father had
+known. She was not to be comforted. And when her mother came, and
+heard the story, too, she put her arm about her daughter's waist and
+led her to her room, and there remained alone with her an hour or
+more. When she came out she also was another woman; and her daughter
+was in her room, alone.
+
+And that, to all intents and purposes, so far as it is known, is the
+end of the story, though the real end is not yet. Such stories take a
+long time ending. Sometimes they are continued in the generation which
+comes after, and never end. Mr. Philip Walter Augustus Parker was
+tried for the murder of Graham Patterson, and, apparently to his
+complete satisfaction, was found guilty. The law plays such pranks
+oftener than is commonly supposed. The story he told was so well put
+together, all the joints fitted so well. As the judge instructed the
+jury they really had no option; on the evidence there was only one
+possible verdict; and that was returned. Mr. Parker earned his
+credentials; he was sent, as he desired, on a lengthy visit to
+Broadmoor. The whole story might have fallen to pieces and his visit
+to Broadmoor indefinitely postponed had the platform inspector at
+Brighton station--Edward Giles--given his evidence in another way. A
+few questions would have changed the whole face of affairs, but they
+were not asked. He told that it was he who had helped Graham Patterson
+into the carriage, and also that there already was someone in it when
+the dead man entered. At that point the questions which were put to
+him went awry. He was asked if the prisoner was that other person; he
+replied that he did not recognise him, but as, when the witness had
+entered the box, Mr. Parker had greeted him with that unpleasant
+little chuckle of his, and had proclaimed that he recognised him, even
+before he opened his mouth, as the porter, as he put it, who had been
+of assistance to Mr. Patterson, for the judge, as for the jury, that
+was sufficient. Giles himself was evidently taken aback, and while he
+declared that he did not recognise the prisoner, he admitted that if
+Parker had not been the man in the carriage, he could not understand
+how he recognised him. So Mr. Parker had his wish.
+
+Mr. Andrews is still the managing man, as well as a partner, of the
+firm of Graham Patterson, which continues to thrive on the same sound
+old lines. And Gladys Patterson is the wife of Stephen Wilkes--that
+strikes even her, when she thinks of it, as queer. How it came about,
+she has told her husband more than once, she does not understand; she
+wonders sometimes, so she tells him, if her father could ever have had
+it in his mind that that was the match he would have chosen. She is
+thinking of Rodney's words. Her husband laughs, and assures her that
+to the best of his knowledge and belief her father never dreamt of
+anything of the kind. Whereat she thinks all the more of Rodney's
+words, having a dim suspicion hidden in her somewhere that it was
+because of what he said that this strange thing had happened, and, in
+what she feels is in quite an uncanny way, that it was he who brought
+it all about.
+
+Mabel Joyce is Mrs. George Dale, fairly happy, as the average wife's
+standard of happiness goes, and Dale is happy too; but there is about
+him a suggestion of solicitous anxiety, as if he would be glad to be
+as certain of her satisfaction with the way that things have turned
+out, as of his own.
+
+Stella is still unmarried, and likely to remain so. She is not quite
+the ordinary type of girl. When she gave her heart to Rodney Elmore,
+it was given for ever; although she would probably be the last person
+in the world to admit it, he has it still. As, she declares, she will
+never marry save where her heart is, her prospects of remaining Stella
+Austin are stronger than either her father or her mother care to own.
+Tom is married; was married within six months of his heart being
+finally broken--to the girl with the mischievous eyes. And he is happy
+as a man may be; and he is a man, even up to his father's standard of
+manhood. He is practically the head of his father's firm, and a
+sufficiently effective and energetic head he makes. He declares that
+it is his wife who has done it, and that she has been and still is and
+ever will be the only woman in the world to him. He forgets; men--and
+women--sometimes do.
+
+Nothing definite has ever been heard of Rodney Elmore; but among those
+who knew him in his youth there is a profound conviction that he still
+lives. One day, a month or so after his marriage, there came a
+postcard to Tom Austin from one of the northern States of America,
+with just these words on the back:
+
+
+"Congratulations--good wishes--am delighted!
+
+                                              "M."
+
+
+He was the only person who ever saw the card. He tore it up and burnt
+it. About him for nearly a week afterwards there was, at odd moments,
+an unusually reflective air. His wife asked him what he was thinking
+about.
+
+"Why," he told her, "what should I think about but you."
+
+He was thinking, wondering, how close to "M." was Rodney Elmore--his
+boyhood's friend!--as one result of what was very like a conspiracy of
+silence.
+
+
+
+
+                           *   *   *   *   *
+Printed By Cassell & Company, Limited, La Belle Sauvage, London, E.C.
+
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