Part 31 (1/2)

”They found G.o.dfrey dead, with a bottle of some narcotic beside him.

The doctor gave evidence that he had prescribed the drug; it seems G.o.dfrey couldn't sleep and his nerves had gone to bits. The man was obviously tactful and saved the situation. The verdict was that G.o.dfrey had accidentally taken too large a dose.”

”Ah! You don't think----”

”I dare not think--he was my cousin.” Mowbray s.h.i.+vered and pulled himself together. ”Now for the sequel. You haven't heard the worst yet, if one can call what follows worse.”

”Don't tell me. Give me the paper.”

He handed her the journal published in an English country town and she read the long account with a feeling of deep pity. It appeared that when news of G.o.dfrey's death spread there had been a run on the bank.

Barnett's business was for the most part local; and struggling shopkeepers, farmers, small professional men, and a number of the country gentry hurried to withdraw their money. The firstcomers were paid, but the bank soon closed its doors. Then came the inquest, and Mrs. Mowbray wondered how the merciful verdict had been procured. It was all very harrowing, and when she looked up her eyes were wet.

”He must have known!” she said. ”It seems heartless to talk about the financial side of the matter, but----”

”It must be talked about, and it's easier than the other. I think I know why the bank came down, and perhaps I'm responsible to some extent. When one of the big London amalgamations wanted to absorb Barnett's, G.o.dfrey consulted me. I told him I wasn't a business man, but so far as my opinion went he ought to refuse.”

”Why?”

”Barnett's was a small, conservative bank. G.o.dfrey knew his customers; he was their financial adviser and often their personal friend. The bank would take some risk to carry an honest client over bad times; it was easy with the farmers after a poor harvest. G.o.dfrey could give and take; he managed a respected firm like a gentleman. In short, Barnett's was human, not a mere money-making machine.”

”I can imagine that,” Mrs. Mowbray responded. ”Would it have been different if he had joined the amalgamation?”

”Very different. Barnett's would have become a branch office without power of discretion. Everything would have had to be done on an unchangeable system--the last penny exacted; no mercy shown a client who might fall a day behind; one's knowledge of a customer disregarded in favor of a rule about the security he could offer. I warned G.o.dfrey that so far as my influence could command it, every vote that went with the family shares should be cast against the deal; although the amalgamation had given him a plain hint that they meant to secure a footing in the neighborhood, whether they came to terms with Barnett's or not.”

Mrs. Mowbray thought his advice to his cousin was characteristic of her husband, and, in a wide sense, she agreed with him. He was a lover of fair play and individual liberty; but the course G.o.dfrey had taken was nevertheless rash. Barnett's was not strong enough to fight a combination which had practically unlimited capital. The struggle had no doubt been gallant, but the kindly, polished gentleman had been disastrously beaten. What was worse, Mrs. Mowbray suspected that her husband was now leading a similar forlorn hope at Allenwood.

”I suppose it means a serious loss to us,” she said.

”That's certain. Alan has not had time to investigate matters yet, but I gather that my relatives do not mean to s.h.i.+rk their responsibility.

Barnett's, of course, was limited, but the name must be saved if possible and the depositors paid. I will tell Alan that I strongly agree with this.”

It was rash and perhaps quixotic, but it was typical of the man, and Mrs. Mowbray did not object.

”I'm sorry for you,” she said caressingly. ”It will hit you very hard.”

Mowbray's face grew gentler.

”I fear the heaviest burden will fall on your shoulders; we shall have to cut down expenses, and there's the future---- Well, I'm thankful you have your small jointure. Things are going hard against me, and I feel very old.”

”It's unfortunate that my income is only a life interest. The boys----”

”Gerald must s.h.i.+ft for himself; he has had more than his share. I don't think we need be anxious about Lance. The boy seems to have a singularly keen scent for money.”

”But Beatrice!”

”Beatrice,” said Mowbray, ”must make a good match. It shouldn't be difficult with her advantages. And now I suppose I'd better go down. I think the effect of this disaster must remain a secret between us.”

He locked up the papers and shortly afterward stood talking to Brand in a quiet corner of the hall.

”If it wouldn't be an intrusion, I'd like to offer you my sympathy, sir,” Brand said. ”The mail-carrier brought me a letter from my English steward.”