THE HONORABLE PERCY STORNDALE.
For the second time on this eventful day Aaron felt as if his sin were
about to be brought home to him, as if the temple which, by long years
of honorable and upright conduct, he had built for himself were about
to crumble to dust.
In that temple was enshrined not only his good name, but what was of
far greater value to him, his wife's happiness and peace of mind. It
was too late now to go to her frankly and say: "Ruth is not our
child." Out of Rachel's innate goodness and sweetness sprang the deep
love she bore for the young girl; the suggestion of love may come from
without, but the spirit of love is the offspring of one's own heart,
and it is made enduring and ennobling by one's own higher qualities;
and in a like manner it is one's lower passions which debase and
degrade it.
In whatever fashion Rachel would receive her husband's confession he
knew full well that it would inflict upon her the most exquisite
suffering; the cherished ideal of her life would be shattered, and she
would sit forever afterward in sackcloth and ashes. He had sown a
harvest of woe, and his constant fervent prayer was that he might not
be compelled to reap it with his own hands.
Agitated as he was, he did not betray himself by word or sign, but by
a courteous movement of his hand invited his visitor to proceed.
"It is a family matter," said Mr. Dillworthy, "of a peculiarly
delicate nature, and my client thought it could best be arranged in a
private personal interview."
"Being of such a nature," observed Aaron, "would it not have been
better that it should be arranged privately between the parties
interested instead of through an intermediary?"
"Possibly, possibly, but my client holds strong views, and feels he
could scarcely trust himself."
"Favor me with the name of your client."
"Lord Storndale."
"Lord Storndale? I have not the pleasure of his acquaintance."
"But you are familiar with his name?"
"Not at all. It is the first time I have heard it."
"You surprise me. Lord Storndale is a peer."
"I know very few peers, and have had no occasion to study the
peerage."
"But, pardon me, Storndale is the name; it may have escaped you."
"I repeat, the name is strange to me."
"I do not presume to doubt you, but it introduces a new element into
the matter. Your daughter, then, has never mentioned the Honorable
Percy Storndale to you?"
"Never; and I am at a loss to understand the association of their
names."
The lawyer paused. In this unexpected turn of affairs a deviation
suggested itself to his legal mind which would be likely to assist
him.
"Mr. Cohen, you have the reputation of being an earnest and sincere
Jew."
"I follow the precepts and the obligations of my faith," said Aaron,
with a searching glance at his visitor.
"In this backsliding and time-serving age orthodoxy--especially, I
should say, in the Jewish religion--has a hard time of it. The customs
and duties of an enlightened civilization must clash severely with the
precepts and obligations you speak of. It is because of the
difficulty--perhaps the impossibility--of following the hard and fast
laws of the Pentateuch that divisions have taken place, as with all
religions, and that you have among you men who call themselves
Reformed Jews."
"Surely it is not part of your mission to discuss this matter with
me," said Aaron, who had no desire to enter into such questions with a
stranger.
"No, it is not, and I do not pretend to understand it; but in a
general way the subject is interesting to me. If you will permit me, I
should like to ask you one question."
Aaron signified assent.
"What is your opinion of mixed marriages?"
Aaron did not answer immediately; he had a suspicion that there was
something behind, but the subject was one regarding which both he and
Rachel held a strong view, and he felt he would be guilty of an
unworthy evasion if he refused to reply.
"I do not approve of them," he said.
"You set me at ease," said the lawyer, "and it will gratify Lord
Storndale to hear that you and he are in agreement upon the question.
As our interview is private I may speak freely. Unhappily Lord
Storndale is a poor peer. Since he came into the title he has had
great difficulties to contend with, and as his estates lay chiefly in
Ireland, these difficulties have been of late years increased. Happily
or unhappily, also, he has a large family, two daughters and six sons.
Of these sons the Honorable Percy Storndale is the youngest. I do not
know who is the more to be pitied, a poor peer struggling with
mortgages, decreased rents, and the expenses of a large family, or a
younger son who comes into the world with the expectation that he is
to be provided for, and whose father can allow him at the utmost two
hundred and fifty or three hundred a year. Father and son have both to
keep up appearances, and the son's allowance will scarcely pay his
tailor's and his glover's bill. There are a thousand things he wants,
and to which he believes himself entitled--flowers, horses, clubs, a
stall at the theater, and so on and so on, _ad infinitum_. The
consequence is that the young gentleman gets into debt, which grows
and grows. Perhaps he thinks of a means of paying his creditors--he
plunges on a horse, he plays for high stakes at his club. You know the
result. Into the mire deeper and deeper. A sad picture, Mr. Cohen."
"Very sad," said Aaron, who had listened patiently and knew that the
crucial part of the lawyer's mission--that which affected himself and
Ruth--had not yet been reached.
"Lord Storndale," continued the lawyer, "is a gentleman of exclusive
views, and is perhaps prouder in his poverty than he would be with a
rent roll of a hundred thousand a year. His son's extravagances and
debts are not hidden from his knowledge--the money lenders take care
of that. From time to time, and at a great sacrifice, he extricates
the young scapegrace from temporary difficulties, but at length he
comes to a full stop. His own means are exhausted, and willing as he
may be to keep putting his hand in his pocket, it is useless to do so,
because the pocket is empty. But he has some influence in a small way,
and he obtains for his son the offer of a post in the colonies, not
very grand certainly, but affording an opening which may lead to
something better if the young gentleman will only condescend to look
at life seriously--which, as a rule, such young fellows decline to do
until it is too late. However, a father, whether he be a peer or a
common laborer, can do no more than his duty. He informs his son of
the appointment he has obtained for him, and the scapegrace--I am
speaking quite openly, Mr. Cohen; the Honorable Percy Storndale _is_
one--declines to accept it. 'Why?' asks the astonished father. 'I
cannot live on it,' replies the son. Then the father points out how he
can live on it by cutting down some of his extravagances, and that he
may find opportunities in the colonies which he can never meet with
here. The son remains obdurate. 'There is another reason for your
refusal,' says the father. 'There is,' the son admits. 'I prefer to
live in London; it is the only city in the world worth living in.'
'And starving in,' suggests the father. The scapegrace shrugs his
shoulders, and says something will turn up, and that he will not
submit to banishment because he happens to have been born a few years
too late--a reflection upon his brother, the eldest son, who in course
of time will inherit the family embarrassments and mortgages. The
father remonstrates, argues, entreats, but the young man will not give
way. Meanwhile the appointment is bestowed upon another and a worthier
gentleman, and the chance is lost. I trust I am not wearying you."
"No; I am attending to all you say, and waiting to hear how my
daughter's name comes to be mixed up with the family history you are
giving me."
"You will understand everything presently. My object is to make the
matter perfectly clear, and to have no concealment. For this reason I
wish you to be aware of the character of the young gentleman, and I am
describing it carefully at the express wish of his father. At the same
time I lay no positive charge against him; I am not saying he is a bad
man, but an undesirable man. There are thousands of young fellows who
are living just such a careless, irresponsible, reckless life, who get
into debt, who gamble, and who ultimately find themselves passing
through the bankruptcy court. Young men without balance, Mr.
Cohen, and who, in consequence, topple over. They sow trouble
wherever they go, and they are always smiling, self-possessed, and
pleasant-mannered. Women especially are caught by these externals, but
speaking myself as the father of grown-up daughters, I should be sorry
to see one of that class visiting my house as a suitor to one of my
girls." Aaron started, but did not speak. "Lord Storndale suspected
that there was another reason, which his son had not mentioned, for
his refusal of the colonial appointment, and in a short time his
suspicions were confirmed. It came to his knowledge that his son was
paying attentions to a young lady whom he was in the habit of meeting
at garden parties and tennis, and he taxed the young gentleman with
it. His son did not deny it; he said that he loved the lady, that her
father was very wealthy, and that she was in every way presentable. 'I
do not know,' said the young man, 'whether the circumstance of her
father being a commoner will prejudice you against him.' Lord
Storndale replied that he would have preferred his son had chosen from
his own rank, but that marriages between rich commoners and members of
the aristocracy were not unusual in these days, and that he would
sanction the match if the lady's father was a gentleman. To be honest
with you, Mr. Cohen, Lord Storndale has no liking for commoners who
have made fortunes in trade or by speculating, but he did not allow
these scruples to weigh with him, his hope being that the proposed
union would be the means of extricating his son from his difficulties.
The young man said that the lady's father was a gentleman widely known
for his benevolence and uprightness of character, and that he was held
in universal esteem. Up to this point the interview had been of an
amiable nature, but then arose an insurmountable difficulty. 'Who is
the gentleman?' inquired Lord Storndale. 'Mr. Aaron Cohen,' replied
the young man." Observing Aaron's agitation, the lawyer suspended his
narration and said: "Pardon me; you were about to speak."
Aaron by a great effort controlled himself.
"I will wait till you have quite finished, Mr. Dillworthy. Before I
commit myself it will be as well that I should be in possession of all
the facts."
"Quite so. I have been explicit and circumstantial in order that there
shall be no mistake. When I have finished you will have few, if any,
questions to ask, because you will know everything it is in my power
to tell. Upon hearing your name his lordship remarked that it was a
Jewish name. 'Yes,' said the young man, 'he is a Jew.' Lord Storndale
was angry and distressed. I admit that it is an unreasonable
prejudice, but he has an invincible dislike to Jews, and it shocked
him to think that his son contemplated a marriage with a Jewess. I
need dwell no longer upon the interview, which now took a stormy turn,
and it ended by the son abruptly leaving the room. On no account
whatever, Mr. Cohen, will Lord Storndale or any member of the family
consent to such an alliance; if it is accomplished the young man will
be thrown upon his own resources, and his wife will not be recognized
by his kinsfolk. The trouble has already reached a climax. The young
gentleman is hot-headed--a Storndale failing--and he declined to
listen to remonstrances; the consequence is that he has been forbidden
his father's home till he comes to reason. But despite his
extravagances and the constant and perplexing involvements issuing
therefrom, his father has an affection for him, and is bent upon
saving his family from----"
The lawyer pausing here, with an awkward cough, as though he was
choking down a word, Aaron quietly added it.
"Disgrace?"
"Well, yes," said Mr. Dillworthy briskly, "we will not mince matters.
It is not my word, but Lord Storndale's. He would account such an
alliance a disgrace. I will say nothing in his excuse. In all
civilized countries we have living evidences of happy unions between
members of the aristocracy and wealthy daughters of Israel, and also
living evidences of happy mixed marriages between persons neither
aristocratic nor wealthy; and these might be brought forward as
powerful arguments against the view my client entertains. But they
would have no weight with him. We must take into consideration the
pride of race."
"Yes," said Aaron, still speaking in a quiet tone, "we must take that
into consideration. You have not quite finished, sir."
"Not quite. As a last resource Lord Storndale consulted me, and
intrusted me with a painful task. He requested me to call upon you and
represent the matter in the plainest terms, which I have endeavored to
do, omitting or concealing no single incident of the unhappy affair. I
am deputed to ask you to take a course with your daughter similar to
that he has taken with his son--that is, to absolutely forbid the
union. The young gentleman is in a state of extreme pecuniary
embarrassment, and it is possible--I do not state it as a fact, but
merely as a presumption--that he reckons upon your aid to settle with
his creditors. When he finds that this aid will not be forthcoming,
and that he cannot depend upon your making a suitable settlement upon
your daughter, he is not unlikely, for prudential reasons, to beat a
retreat. A good end will thus be served, and much future misery
averted. You will gather from what I have said that I do not believe
the Honorable Percy Storndale possesses qualities which would make
your daughter happy."
"You are commissioned to take my answer to Lord Storndale."
"I am."
"I may trust you to convey that answer as nearly as possible in my own
words?"
"It shall be my endeavor."
"You will tell him, then, that the mission with which he has intrusted
you is a surprise to me. Until this day I never heard his name, nor
until this day have I heard the name of his son. Never before, to my
knowledge, has my daughter concealed anything from me or from her
mother, and I need not say that what you have revealed is a grief to
me, and will be to her mother if it comes to her ears. That our
daughter must have been under the spell of some powerful influence to
induce her to keep us in ignorance of what was passing between her and
your client's son is in my judgment indisputable, and the inference is
that this influence has been exercised by the young man, who must have
bound her by a solemn promise to say nothing of the attentions he has
paid to her. I have no hesitation in declaring that no honorable man
would have acted in a manner so clandestine and secret, and you will
inform Lord Storndale that in my opinion his son is not a man of
honor. A young girl's trustfulness and innocence should be her
safeguard, but here they have been basely used by a man who, according
to your own statement, by his external accomplishments has unhappily
attracted her. It has not been concealed from us that our daughter has
mixed a little in society outside our special family circle, for in
her participation of these, as I hoped, harmless pleasures she had
generally been accompanied by her mother, who, I grieve to say, is
blind.
"This affliction has necessarily prevented her from keeping that watch
over her daughter which is a mother's loving duty, and of this
affliction your client's son has taken a base advantage. You speak of
the pride of race as affecting Lord Storndale. We have also that
pride, and if we were so far forgetful of the obligations of our faith
as to admit your client's son into our family it is upon him and upon
Lord Storndale, not upon us, that honor would have been conferred.
Such an alliance will never, with my sanction, be entered into, and I
will endeavor to guard my daughter from the peril with which she is
threatened."
Mr. Dillworthy, having obtained his point, wisely dropped the subject.
He briefly expressed his obligations to Aaron, and rose to take his
departure.
Before he reached the door, however, he turned, and in a tone of
courteous deference asked if Mr. Cohen could spare him a few moments
more.
Aaron assenting, the lawyer resumed his seat, and taking a pocketbook
from his pocket, searched in it for a letter.