Part 23 (2/2)
”No, dear.”
”You remember that she asked me to tell her Farnaby's address?”
”Oh yes! And she wanted to know if he had ever gone by the name of Morgan. Ridiculous--wasn't it?”
”I'm not so sure of that, my dear. She told me, in so many words, that Farnaby owed her money. He didn't make his fortune all at once, I suppose. How do we know what he might have done in his young days, or how he might have humbugged a feeble woman. Wait till our friend there at the fire has warmed her old bones with some hot grog--and I'll find out something more about Farnaby's debt.”
”Why, dear? What is it to you?”
Jervy reflected for a moment, and decided that the time had come to speak more plainly.
”In the first place,” he said, ”it would only be an act of common humanity, on my part, to help Mrs. Sowler to get her money. You see that, don't you? Very well. Now, I am no Socialist, as you are aware; quite the contrary. At the same time, I am a remarkably just man; and I own I was struck by what Mr. Goldenheart said about the uses to which wealthy people are put, by the Rules at Tadmor. 'The man who has got the money is bound, by the express law of Christian morality, to use it in a.s.sisting the man who has got none.' Those were his words, as nearly as I can remember them. He put it still more strongly afterwards; he said, 'A man who h.o.a.rds up a large fortune, from a purely selfish motive--either because he is a miser, or because he looks only to the aggrandis.e.m.e.nt of his own family after his death--is, in either case, an essentially unchristian person, who stands in manifest need of enlightenment and control by Christian law.' And then, if you remember, some of the people murmured; and Mr. Goldenheart stopped them by reading a line from the New Testament, which said exactly what he had been saying--only in fewer words. Now, my dear girl, Farnaby seems to me to be one of the many people pointed at in this young gentleman's lecture.
Judging by looks, I should say he was a hard man.”
”That's just what he is--hard as iron! Looks at his servants as if they were dirt under his feet; and never speaks a kind word to them from one year's end to another.”
”Suppose I guess again? He's not particularly free-handed with his money--is he?”
”He! He will spend anything on himself and his grandeur; but he never gave away a halfpenny in his life.”
Jervy pointed to the fireplace, with a burst of virtuous indignation.
”And there's that poor old soul starving for want of the money he owes her! d.a.m.n it, I agree with the Socialists; it's a virtue to make that sort of man bleed. Look at you and me! We are the very people he ought to help--we might be married at once, if we only knew where to find a little money. I've seen a deal of the world, Phoebe; and my experience tells me there's something about that debt of Farnaby's which he doesn't want to have known. Why shouldn't we screw a few five-pound notes for ourselves out of the rich miser's fears?”
Phoebe was cautious. ”It's against the law--ain't it?” she said.
”Trust me to keep clear of the law,” Jervy answered. ”I won't stir in the matter till I know for certain that he daren't take the police into his confidence. It will be all easy enough when we are once sure of that. You have been long enough in the family to find out Farnaby's weak side. Would it do, if we got at him, to begin with, through his wife?”
Phoebe suddenly reddened to the roots of her hair. ”Don't talk to me about his wife!” she broke out fiercely; ”I've got a day of reckoning to come with that lady--” She looked at Jervy and checked herself. He was watching her with an eager curiosity, which not even his ready cunning was quick enough to conceal.
”I wouldn't intrude on your little secrets, darling, for the world!” he said, in his most persuasive tones. ”But, if you want advice, you know that I am heart and soul at your service.”
Phoebe looked across the room at Mrs. Sowler, still nodding over the fire.
”Never mind now,” she said; ”I don't think it's a matter for a man to advise about--it's between Mrs. Farnaby and me. Do what you like with her husband; I don't care; he's a brute, and I hate him. But there's one thing I insist on--I won't have Miss Regina frightened or annoyed; mind that! She's a good creature. There, read the letter she wrote to me yesterday, and judge for yourself.”
Jervy looked at the letter. It was not very long. He resignedly took upon himself the burden of reading it.
”DEAR PHOEBE,
”Don't be downhearted. I am your friend always, and I will help you to get another place. I am sorry to say that it was indeed Mrs. Ormond who found us out that day. She had her suspicions, and she watched us, and told my aunt. This she owned to me with her own lips. She said, 'I would do anything, my dear, to save you from an ill-a.s.sorted marriage.' I am very wretched about it, because I can never look on her as my friend again. My aunt, as you know, is of Mrs. Ormond's way of thinking. You must make allowances for her hot temper. Remember, out of your kindness towards me, you had been secretly helping forward the very thing which she was most anxious to prevent. That made her very angry; but, never fear, she will come round in time. If you don't want to spend your little savings, while you are waiting for another situation, let me know. A share of my pocket-money is always at your service.
”Your friend,
”REGINA.”
”Very nice indeed,” said Jervy, handing the letter back, and yawning as he did it. ”And convenient, too, if we run short of money. Ah, here's the waiter with the supper, at last! Now, Mrs. Sowler, there's a time for everything--it's time to wake up.”
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