MR HOLLAND FAILS
A Small young lady, daintily fashioned, with a child-like face. She
was charmingly dressed; a big feather boa was round her neck. As she
stood there, in spite of the perfection of her attire, she looked more
like a child than a woman. The men released each other. Mr Dumville
explained.
'I was only going to throw the fellow down the stairs.'
'Is that all? And what has'--there was a little hesitation; then the
word was softened by a smile--'the fellow done? And who may the fellow
be?'
'I don't know. Some bounder, I suppose.'
Mr Dumville seemed slightly disconcerted, as if the situation had not
quite shaped as he had expected. Mr Holland's hat and stick had fallen
to the floor. He stooped to pick them up. When he turned there came an
exclamation from the little lady at the door.
'Guy!'
'Miss Bewicke.'
'Whoever would have thought of seeing you? Why, this is Mr Holland, a
friend of my childish days.'
She advanced with a tiny gloved hand held out to him. Mr Dumville,
whose hands were in his trouser pockets, seemed disposed to be grumpy.
'It wasn't my fault; he should have told me.'
'You hardly gave me an opportunity.'
'My dear Bryan, I believe you're a little mad; that is, I believe
you're a little madder even than I thought you were. Guy, this is
Bryan Dumville, a gentleman who thinks that he has claims on me.
Bryan, this is Guy Holland, who was a friend of mine when I was quite
a little child; and that--how long ago that is!'
'I don't see how I'm to blame. The porter was talking about the fellow
who has been such a nuisance, saying that he has been making himself
particularly objectionable to-day, trying to force his way upstairs,
and I don't know what; and he added that he was hanging about at that
very moment, and if he turned his back he shouldn't be surprised if
the blackguard made another try to get at you. I made up my mind that
if he did I would give him what for. So, when someone knocked at the
door, and I found it was a man, I went for him.'
'Nothing could be more natural.'
If Mr Holland's tone was a little dry Mr Dumville did not seem to
notice it; but the lady regarded the speaker with laughter lighting
all her pretty face.
'Guy, you must sup with us.'
'Thank you, I have not long dined.'
'That doesn't matter; you must eat with us again.' She rang the bell.
A maid appeared. 'Bring another plate; Mr Holland will join us at
supper.' Miss Bewicke proceeded to remove her outdoor things, handing
them to Mr Dumville one by one, talking as she did so. 'Someone told
me that you were at the other side of the world--at the North Pole, I
think.'
'Not the North Pole; but I have been to Africa. I only returned last
night.'
'And you came to-day to see me? How perfectly delightful of you.'
Mr Holland winced. He was conscious that the lady might misapprehend
the situation.
'The fact is, I have something rather important which I wish to say to
you.'
'Indeed? How interesting! I like people to say important things to me.
Say it while we're at supper. That is, if it's something Bryan may be
allowed to listen to.'
'If I'm in the way I'll go.'
Mr Holland was silent. He felt that Mr Dumville was in the way, but
that he himself was hardly in a position to say so. Miss Bewicke spoke
for him.
'My dear Bryan, when you're in the way we'll let you know. Now,
people, will you please sit down?' They seated themselves at table.
'What is this very important thing?--must it out?--or will it keep?'
Mr Holland reflected. He thought of Letty, and other things. Miss
Bewicke seemed disposed to be friendly. Perhaps it was as well there
was a third person present. He decided to make the running.
'It's this way. My uncle's dead.'
'Your uncle? Mr George Burton? I hope you won't think me dreadful, but
I cannot say I'm sorry. He was not a person for whom I entertained
feelings of profound respect.'
'He--he's left rather a peculiar will.'
'I'm not surprised. I should be surprised at nothing he did which was
peculiar. I never knew him do anything which wasn't. Or worse.'
Mr Holland resolved to plunge.
'He says you have a ruby ring of his.'
'He says?--who says?'
'My uncle--in his will.'
Miss Bewicke laid down her knife and fork. 'Mr Holland, do I
understand that you intend to suggest that I have in my possession
another person's property?'
'It's like this. He had a ruby ring, I know it very well. In his will
he says you have it. He may have given it to you for all I know; he
did queer things--'
'Thank you.'
'I don't mean that.'
'It doesn't matter. Go on.'
'Anyhow, it's a condition of his will that I'm to get it back from
you, and if I don't get it back within three months of his death I'm
to lose his money.'
'I don't in the least understand you. Will you please be so good as to
make yourself quite clear.'
He made himself as clear as he could, though he did not find it easy.
Nor was his explanation well received.
'Then am I to gather that you have come to me at midnight, hot-foot
from Africa, in order to get from me--a ring; a ruby ring?'
'It doesn't sound very nice, but that's the plain truth of it.'
'It's very flattering.'
'Very!'
The chorus came from Mr Dumville, and was accompanied by a glare.
'I can only throw myself upon your mercy, Miss Bewicke, and implore
you to let me have this ring to save my inheritance.'
Miss Bewicke resumed her knife and fork, which had all this time been
lying idle. There was a change in her manner, which, though subtle,
was well defined to Mr Holland's consciousness.
'By the way, Mr Holland, the other day I heard your name associated
with a person called, I think, Broad. Was it merely idle gossip, or do
you know anything of a person with a name like that?'
'I do. I know Miss Broad, and very well. I hope she will be my wife.
She has promised that she will.'
'Ah, you and I know what is the value of such promises, don't we, Mr
Holland? Is she any relation to Broad, the teaman, in Mincing Lane?'
'She is his daughter; his only child.'
'Indeed! His only child? How delightful! Old Broad has bushels of
money. How nice for you, of all men, to be received in such a family.'
The airy insolence of the tone was meant to sting, and did, though he
endeavoured to conceal the fact.
'You haven't answered my question.'
'Haven't I? What was your question?'
'Will you let me have the ring, to save my inheritance?'
'It's such an odd question--isn't it, Bryan? So mysterious.
Melodrama's not at all my line. They say I'm too small. Do you think
that I'm too small?'
'I should imagine that you were better fitted to shine in domestic
comedy.'
His words conveyed a meaning which this time stung her, although she
laughed.
'But, my dear Mr Holland, what do you want with an inheritance when
you are going to marry a rich wife--the only child of her father, and
he a widower. I'm told that old Broad's a millionaire.'
'I'm not marrying her for her father's money; nor for her own. Nor do
I intend to go to her empty-handed.'
'How chivalrous you are! So changed!'
'Am I to have the ring?'
'Really, Mr Holland, you speak to me as if it were a case of stand and
deliver. You can hardly know how your uncle behaved or I do not think
you would broach the subject to me at all. In any case it is not one
which I can discuss with you. Talk it over with Mr Dumville. Whatever
he wishes I will do. I always act on his advice; he is so very wise.
Good-night, Mr Holland. So glad to have seen you. Come soon again.
Goodnight, Bryan, dear.'
'But you haven't had any supper.'
'Mr Holland has taken my appetite away; he has caused my mind to
travel back to events which I am always endeavouring to forget. But it
doesn't matter. Hear what he has to say, and decide for me. King will
let you both out when your discussion's finished.'
Mr Holland stood up.
'Miss Bewicke, I am very sorry if I have said anything which has given
you pain or offence. Nothing could have been further from my
intention.'
'Thank you.'
'But this matter which you treat so lightly--'
'Lightly!'
'Is to me almost one of life and death. I believe that my uncle has
left something like a quarter of a million.'
'What a sum, Bryan! Doesn't it sound nice?'
'If I can hand this ring to Mr Collyer--'
'To whom?'
'To Mr Collyer, my uncle's solicitor, the money is mine. I have only
four days left to do it in.'
'Four days! Just now you said three months.'
'The time appointed is three months after my uncle's death. He died on
the 23rd of February. I have only just become acquainted with the
terms of his will. So in four days it will be decided if I am to be a
rich man or a pauper. You see, Miss Bewicke, that my fate is in your
hands.'
'I really cannot discuss the matter with you now. It would make me
ill. The strain would be too much for me. I refer you to Mr Dumville.
Bryan, dear, I leave the matter entirely in your hands.'
'Miss Bewicke--'
Mr Dumville rose.
'Mr Holland, you have heard what Miss Bewicke has said. So far as she
is concerned the discussion is closed. My dear, let me open the door
for you.'
He opened the door for her. She passed out, with her handkerchief to
her eyes. A fact on which Mr Dumville commented.
'You see what you have done, sir--affected her to tears.'
'To what?'
'To tears!'
'Oh!'
'Well, sir, what have you to say to me?'
'To you?'
'Yes, sir, to me. You have said more than enough to Miss Bewicke. Now,
perhaps there is something which you would like to say to me, as her
affianced husband.'
'There are one or two things which I should like to say to you, but I
am inclined to think that I had better not say them to you here. Nor
do I quite see my way to ask you to come outside, though I should like
to.'
Mr Holland was savage, and unwise enough to show it. Mr Dumville,
having polished his eyeglass, replaced it in his eye so that he might
scan the speaker with a greater show of dignity.
'What on earth do you mean by talking to me like that? If that's the
kind of remark you wish to make the sooner you get away the better.'
'I am quite of your opinion, Mr Dumville. I shall always remember with
pleasure that I was able to get away from you.'
Mr Dumville strode forward.
'You be hanged, sir!'
'After you, Mr Dumville, after you.'
'You had better be careful; although I don't want to have a vulgar row
with you here.'
'Would you mind mentioning a place at which you would? I will try to
make it convenient to be there.'
Mr Dumville turned and rang the bell.
'What's that for?'
'For the servant to show you out.'
Mr Holland laughed, showing himself out without another word. He was
conscious of two things--that he had not been particularly discreet,
and that he would like to make his indiscretion greater by 'taking it
out' of somebody. It was not often his temper gained the upper
hand; when it did he was apt to be dangerous both to himself and
others.
Nor was his mood chastened by a little incident which took place as he
was about to descend the staircase. From a door which opened behind
him Miss Bewicke addressed him in mellifluous accents.
'Oh, Mr Holland, will you give my fondest love to dear Miss Broad?
It's true that I don't know her, but if you tell her what good friends
you and I used to be I'm sure that she won't mind. I hope to make her
acquaintance one of these days, and then I'll tell her how fond you
and I were of one another. Good-night.'
Before he had a chance to answer the door was closed. He went down the
stairs in a rage.
'The little cat!' he muttered. 'The little cat! who would have thought
she had such claws?'
As he was going out into the street a woman, running against him,
almost knocked him over. She was entering the house, apparently in
hot, unseeing haste; putting up her hand as if to prevent his
observation of her features; flying up the stairs as if danger was
hard upon her heels.
Mr Holland adjusted his hat, which she had knocked almost off without
offering the least apology.
'I wonder what mischief you have been up to? Women are beauties, real
beauties!'
Having indulged himself in this very cheap piece of cynicism, he,
metaphorically, shook the dust of the house from off his feet, but had
not gone a dozen paces when he found himself face to face with his
cousin, Horace Burton.