Delphi Works of Ford Madox Ford (Illustrated) (50 page)

BOOK: Delphi Works of Ford Madox Ford (Illustrated)
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‘Who are they, old boy?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know — an’ vey don’t know each ovah,’ he answered.

Hollebone objurgated once more in secret.

‘Wonder who the blank they are, and what the infernal regions they want with me?’ But aloud, ‘Oh, well, Gandy, just tell Mary Ann to take me some hot water up to my room. I must change my things before I go in and see these people. I’m just soaked through.’

‘Yes, an’ yoah nose is all over mud,’ said that veracious youth.

‘All right; now just go and get my water, there’s a good boy. I’ll go up to my room and get myself a little more presentable,’ and he proceeded upstairs, Gandon trotting obediently off to the kitchen after the water, which after a while reached its due destination.

Hollebone was much exercised in his mind, during his toilet, to imagine who his visitors could possibly be, but rack his brains how he would, he could arrive at no satisfactory conclusion, and he dismissed the subject from his mind for the moment. Before leaving his room he opened his window for a moment, and was surprised to see that the sun was glinting waterly and brightly for a moment through a rift in the fog, and the sea was dimpled merrily with sunbeams. But, even as he looked, the mist came driving thick round the corner of the house and veiled everything from view. He shut the window angrily again and went downstairs to the ordeal, before which, however, he took a stiff glass of brandy and water, for the poor fellow had been fasting since the early morning, and it might be now half-past three, and he went into the consulting-room with fresh courage instilled into him.

Mr Cheetham he had been prepared to find — he had indeed been almost expecting him for several days — but Miss Tubbs was certainly the person farthest away from his thoughts. Nevertheless there they sat both over the fire, talking commonplaces about things in general.

Hollebone looked anxiously at Julia’s face, hoping to find some index to her thoughts, but on it there was a placid, stolid smile meaning nothing.

‘How de do, Mr Hollebone?’ she said. ‘Just happened to be in Southwold, and so I trotted over to see you y’know. Awfly bad weather, isn’t it? I believe this gentleman has some important matters to interview you about, and so I’d better retire into myself for a time.’

Mr Cheetham, brought thus into prominence, held out his hand.

‘How d’you do?’ he said, his eyes twinkling more than usually.’ Will you allow me to congratulate you? I came over from Liverpool especially to see you about it — and I must catch the five-ten to be back to-night. So, if this young lady will excuse me, I would be very glad if you can let me have a short time,’ and he intimated quite plainly that he would like to have a little private conversation; but Hollebone answered, —

‘If it is merely business matters you have to speak about, you may certainly say it in the presence of this lady — allow me to introduce you. Miss Tubbs, an — an old friend of the family. She knows about as much as I do about my affairs.’

Mr Cheetham bowed drily, and his eyes twinkled more than ever. He interpreted Hollebone’s blushes to his own satisfaction, but nevertheless he had misunderstood.

‘Very well, Mr Hollebone,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘Things have been looking, at last, even brighter than before, from various small successes in the courts other than those of which I spoke, and your creditors have at last — I say “at last,” for the delay, in spite of my utmost endeavour, has been unreasonable — your creditors, that is to say the larger ones, for the poorer ones have insisted, from sheer necessity though not from ill-will, on being paid off at once. The larger firms have accepted a composition of seven-and-sixpence in the pound, they themselves having constituted themselves the mortgagees of your private fortune, which is equivalent to somewhat over half your liabilities. This advantageous composition is, to a certain extent, due to commiseration for the unprecedented runs of ill - luck which led up to your disaster. Of course the oldness of the firm, and the regret that one would naturally feel at its disappearance after three centuries, had also something to do with it. However, to pass over the motives and get to figures, I have the exact calculations here. But, roughly speaking, the capital of the firm itself, after everything has been paid off, is somewhat larger than it was before, but you will have entirely lost your private fortune. This will make a difference of some eight thousand a year to you, which is not to be sneezed at, leaving you little over seven, under the present partnership articles, supposing that the firm pays ten per cent., or two per cent, less than it used to. Mr Clarkson receives four thousand a year, and the remaining ten go to pay the interest on the mortgage — two hundred thousand pounds at five per cent. These twenty-one thousand pounds represent the interest on the firm’s capital of two hundred and ten thousand pounds. Thus you will see that, considering the former economy with which you lived, you can leave this ridiculous place and return once more to civilisation — even marry and settle down. However, it seems to me I shall have to be going or I shall miss my train. Of course you accept the conditions?’

And Hollebone answered overjoyed, —

‘Of course I do. But, good God! Miss Tubbs, are you ill?’ for Miss Tubbs’s face had assumed a waxy colour and consistency very unlike her usual complexion.

She answered, with a forced laugh, —

‘Ill! No, of course not. Why?’ and the colour rushed to her cheeks.

‘You were as pale as a ghost a minute ago.’

‘Was I? It must have been the surprise that this gentleman’s information gave me.’

‘If you will excuse me,’ said Mr Cheetham, dreading lest a love scene were about to take place under his very nose, ‘Mr Hollebone, I am in a great hurry to catch my train. Would you mind running your eye over this contract, and signing it if you agree? It contains exactly in detail what I have already told you in rough. The others have all signed it, Mr Clarkson included.’

Hollebone did attempt to read it, and having in his hurry made out about one-half of its sense, which seemed to be pretty much what Mr Cheetham had said, signed it in due course, in the place above Clarkson’s signature, as senior partner. Mr Cheetham rolled up his papers, leaving a copy of the accounts for Hollebone, and saying, —

‘Good-bye; must catch train at all hazards. It’s the last to-night. Sorry can’t enter into details little more, but it’s all right. S’pose we shall be seeing you over at the cinder heap shortly? Good-bye. Good afternoon, miss,’ and bowing to Miss Tubbs, he disappeared into the fog without, for kind old man as he was he thought himself a little
de trop
, besides which he did hate love scenes, even when they were confined to veiled glances. They always made him feel embarrassed.

As Hollebone returned from the hall door Gandon appeared, coming down the stairs, and Hollebone said to him casually, as he passed again into the room, —

‘Well, Gandy, I’m going to leave you. My ship has come home, old boy.’

Gandon by way of reply set up an inarticulate howl, to escape which Hollebone entered the room and shut the door.

Julia was sitting looking at the fire, and when he re-entered she turned to him and said, holding out her hand, —

‘I suppose I may congratulate you on your good fortune?’ and she accompanied the words with a smile that made Hollebone feel sure she
must
be ill in spite of her protests.

However, his mind was otherwise occupied at that moment, and he said, —

‘Yes, isn’t it awfully good luck? Not that I haven’t been expecting it though, but still that don’t make it any the worse. But, I say, have you got any message for me from Edie? And how is she, and where is she? ‘ — Julia was glad he did not give her time to answer—’ I tell you what it is, I’ll leave this hole at once, and go and marry her right off. Her father said I could if I got five thousand a year, and I’ve got seven. When do you go back? We might go together, ‘cos of course you’ll be bridesmaid. But what on earth is the matter with you? Is it anything wrong with Edie? Good God! is she dead?’

And Julia, giving up any attempt at breaking the news, said simply, —

‘Heaven help you, she is married,’ and burst into tears.

It is not in the English nature to express its passions with dignity, though in individuals the power varies. Perhaps it is that in foreign nations their emotions are more superficial, and therefore show themselves with greater liability, and seem more fit. Be that as it may, an Englishman in high tragedy, or even in the heat of joy, seems out of place and angular, and Hollebone, under the sudden shock, could do nothing better than rave and swear — blaspheming, abusing everything and everybody, animate and inanimate. The epithets which he applied to Edith were so shameful that even Julia, from the depths of her pity for him, must needs defend her with more warm feeling than she had thought possible.

‘It is you that should take the shame to yourself,’ she said hotly, unreasonably, unreasoning, ‘you who from your cowardly motives of honour let the poor girl fret and pine, instead of comforting her in her distress in spite of her parents. And it is for your sake that she has sacrificed herself — for you alone,’ and Julia’s eyes flashed with an anger that she did not feel in her heart.

‘What the devil do you mean, Julia?’ he asked, trying in vain to calm himself; and she answered, —

‘You are far too hot to reason with, and I too sad to reason, but I tell you she did it to gain money for you, that in the end you might come together again.’

But Hollebone answered, —

‘For God’s sake, Julia, do not speak in riddles. What do you mean?’

(A fresh burst of crying sounded from outside, in the voice of Gandon, and passing the door, disappeared in silence as he mounted the stairs.)

Julia continued, putting a little more comfort into her voice, since she had recovered her self-command and histrionic powers, —

‘What is the use of my telling you? You will not believe me. This is what she has done. She has married an old, old man to get his money — for you. Now do you understand?’ Hollebone started as though a knife had been driven into him, remembering his strictures on Mrs Kasker-Ryves, and his eyes blazed with fury.

‘It is shameful of you,’ he said, ‘to talk like that, as shameful as it is in her to have done it. It would at least have been more decent in both of you to have concealed the motives.’

‘Do you think so?’ said Miss Tubbs, so unconcernedly that Hollebone’s breath was entirely taken away, and for the moment he must needs keep silence for very want of words, pressing the points of his finger-nails on the table and observing the pink ebb and flow of the blood under them. It had a wonderful effect in cooling him. Much as a cold douche from fire-engines is said to act on an angry mob.

‘No, but really,’ he went on, being reduced to expostulation, ‘you shouldn’t joke with me on such a subject. You know how awfully I loved her, and I shall hate her just as much for her treachery now it’s all over, only I
can’t
begin just at present, because it’s so difficult to hate what one has loved for such a long time.’

‘Now, my dear fellow,’ Julia said clearly, ‘I know it’s no use arguing with you just at present, because you’re not fit to hear any rights or wrongs of the case, but I’ll just say my say, and you can listen and think over it.’

But Clement interrupted her.

‘It’s no use saying anything more to me about it. I shall never care for Edie again. One of my chief reasons for loving her was that I believed she didn’t care about my money, and now, my God! look what it shows me; and even if it is as you say, and she married an old man for his money, it only shows that she won’t live without money, even if she does love me; and she’s betrayed the old man too, poor fellow, so there are a brace of us made fools of — and who knows how many more? — and then she goes and talks you over, because she likes you, as we all do, and makes a fool of you too, if you’ll excuse me. You see I’m talking quite calmly now. I feel numb, without a bit of life in me just for the time, but it stings, I tell you. You see it sort of hits a fellow on the raw when he finds out a girl’s been loving his money and not him. Only the other day I was slanging a poor girl for marrying an old man for his money, and I compared her in my mind with Edie, who I thought was waiting for me, and all the while — oh, my God! I am very wretched.’

BOOK: Delphi Works of Ford Madox Ford (Illustrated)
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