ENVY.
Well! blot him black with slander's ink,
He stands as white as snow!
You serve him better than you think
And kinder than you know;
What? is it not some credit then,
That he provokes your blame?
This merely, with all better men,
Is quite a kind of fame!
--_M.F. Tupper_.
Mr. Brudenell found Ishmael in the anteroom of the court in close
conversation with a client, an elderly, care-worn woman in widow's
weeds. He caught a few words of her discourse, to which Ishmael appeared
to be listening with sympathy.
"Yes, sir, Maine; we belong to Bangor. He went to California some years
ago and made money. And he was on his way home and got as far as this
city, where he was taken ill with the cholera, at his brother's house,
where he died before I could get to him; leaving three hundred thousand
dollars, all in California gold, which his brother refuses to give up,
denying all knowledge of it. It is robbery of the widow and orphan, sir,
and nothing short of that!"--she was saying.
"If this is as you state it, it would seem to be a case for a detective
policeman and a criminal prosecution, rather than for an attorney and a
civil suit," said Ishmael.
"So it ought to be, sir, for he deserves punishment; but I have been
advised to sue him, and I mean to do it, if you will take my case. But
if you do take it, sir, it must be on conditions."
"Yes. What are they?"
"Why, if you do not recover the money, you will not receive any pay; but
if you do recover the money, you will receive a very large share of it
yourself, as a compensation for your services and your risk."
"I cannot take your case on these terms, madam; I cannot accept a
conditional fee," said Ishmael gently.
"Then what shall I do?" exclaimed the widow, bursting into tears. "I
have no money, and shall not have any until I get that! And how can I
get that unless I sue for it? Or how sue for it, unless you are willing
to take the risk? Do, sir, try it! It will be no risk, after all; you
will be sure to gain it!"
"It is not the risk that I object to, madam," said Ishmael very gently,
"but it is this--to make my fee out of my case would appear to me a sort
of professional gambling, from which I should shrink."
"Then, Heaven help me, what shall I do?" exclaimed the widow, weeping
afresh.
"Do not distress yourself. I will call and see you this afternoon. And
if your case is what you represent it to be, I will undertake to conduct
it," said Ishmael. And in that moment he made up his mind that if he
should find the widow's cause a just one, he would once more make a free
offering of his services.
The new client thanked him, gave her address, and departed.
Ishmael turned to go into the courtroom, and found himself confronted
with Mr. Brudenell.
"Good-morning, Mr. Worth! I see you have another client already."
"A possible one, sir," replied Ishmael, smiling with satisfaction as he
shook hands with Mr. Brudenell.
"A poor one, you mean! Poor widows with claims always make a prey of
young lawyers, who are supposed to be willing to plead for nothing,
rather than not plead at all! And it is all very well, as it gives the
latter an opening. But you are not one of those briefless lawyers; you
have already made your mark in the world, and so you must not permit
these female forlornities that haunt the courts to consume all your time
and attention."
"Sir," said Ishmael gravely and fervently, "I owe so much to God--so
much more than I can ever hope to pay, that at least I must show my
gratitude to him by working for his poor! Do you not think that is only
right, sir?"
And Ishmael looked into the face of this stranger, whom he had seen but
once before, with a singular longing for his approval.
"Yes! I do! my--I do, Mr. Worth!" replied Brudenell with emotion, as
they entered the courtroom together.
Late that afternoon Ishmael kept his appointment with the widow Cobham,
and their consultation ended in Ishmael's acceptance of her brief. Other
clients also came to him, and soon his hands were full of business.
As the Supreme Court had risen, and Judge Merlin had little or no
official business on hand, Ishmael's position in his office was almost a
sinecure, and therefore the young man delicately hinted to his employer
the propriety of a separation between them.
"No, Ishmael! I cannot make up my mind to part with you yet. It is true,
as you say, that there is little to do now; but recollect that for
months past there has been a great deal to do, and you have done about
four times as much work for me as I was entitled to expect of you. So
that now you have earned the right to stay on with me to the end of the
year, without doing any work at all."
"But, sir--"
"But I won't hear a word about your leaving us just yet, Ishmael. I will
hold you to your engagement, at least until the first of June, when we
all return to Tanglewood; then, if you wish it, of course I will release
you, as your professional duties will require your presence in the city.
But while we remain in town, I will not consent to your leaving us, nor
release you from your engagement," said the judge.
And Ishmael was made happy by this decision. It had been a point of
honor with him, as there was so little to do, to offer to leave the
judge's employment; but now that the offer had been refused, and he was
held to his engagement, he was very much pleased to find himself obliged
to remain under the same roof with Claudia.
Ah! sweet and fatal intoxication of her presence! he would not willingly
tear himself away from it.
Meanwhile this pleasure was but occasional and fleeting. He seldom saw
Claudia except at the dinner hour.
Miss Merlin never now got up to breakfast with the family. Her life of
fashionable dissipation was beginning to tell even on her youthful and
vigorous constitution. Every evening she was out until a late hour, at
some public ball, private party, concert, theater, lecture room, or some
other place of amusement. The consequence was that she was always too
tired to rise and breakfast with the family, whom she seldom joined
until the two o'clock lunch. And at that hour Ishmael was sure to be at
court, where the case of Cobham versus Hanley, in which Mr. Worth was
counsel for the plaintiff, was going on. At the six o'clock dinner he
daily met her, as I said, but that was always in public. And immediately
after coffee she would go out, attended by Mrs. Middleton as chaperone
and the Viscount Vincent as escort. And she would return long after
Ishmael had retired to his room, so that he would not see her again
until the next day at dinner. And so the days wore on.
Mr. Brudenell remained the guest of Judge Merlin. A strange affection
was growing up between him and Ishmael Worth. Brudenell understood the
secret of this affection; Ishmael did not. The father, otherwise
childless, naturally loved the one gifted son of his youth, and loved
him the more that he durst not acknowledge him. And Ishmael, in his
genial nature, loved in return the stranger who showed so much
affectionate interest in him. No one perceived the likeness that was
said by the viscount to exist between the two except the viscount
himself; and since he had seen them together he had ceased to comment
upon the subject.
Reuben Gray and his family had returned home, so that Mr. Brudenell got
no farther opportunity of talking with Hannah.
The Washington season, prolonged by an extra session of Congress, was at
length drawing to a close; and it was finished off with a succession of
very brilliant parties. Ishmael Worth was now included in every
invitation sent to the family of Judge Merlin, and in compliance with
the urgent advice of the judge he accepted many of these invitations,
and appeared in some of the most exclusive drawing rooms in Washington,
where his handsome person, polished manners, and distinguished talents
made him welcome.
But none among these brilliant parties equaled in splendor the ball
given early in the season by the Merlins.
"And since no one has been able to eclipse my ball, I will eclipse it
myself by a still more splendid one--a final grand display at the end of
the season, like a final grand tableau at the close of the pantomime,"
said Claudia.
"My dear, you will ruin yourself," expostulated Mrs. Middleton.
"My aunt, I shall be a viscountess," replied Miss Merlin.
And preparations for the great party were immediately commenced. More
than two hundred invitations were sent out. And the aid of the three
great ministers of fashion--Vourienne, Devizac, and Dureezie--were
called in, and each was furnished with a carte-blanche as to expenses.
And as to squander the money of the prodigal heiress was to illustrate
their own arts, they availed themselves of the privilege in the freest
manner.
For a few days the house was closed to visitors, and given up to suffer
the will of the decorator Vourienne and his attendant magicians, who
soon contrived to transform the sober mansion of the American judge into
something very like the gorgeous palace of an Oriental prince. And as if
they would not be prodigal enough if left to themselves, Claudia
continually interfered to instigate them to new extravagances.
Meanwhile nothing was talked of in fashionable circles but the
approaching ball, and the novelties it was expected to develop.
On the morning of the day, Vourienne and his imps having completed their
fancy papering, painting, and gilding, and put the finishing touches by
festooning all the walls and ceilings, and wreathing all the gilded
pillars with a profusion of artificial flowers, at last evacuated the
premises, just it time to allow Devizac and his army to march in for the
purpose of laying the feast. These forces held possession of the supper
room, kitchen, and pantry for the rest of the evening, and prepared a
supper which it would be vain to attempt to describe, since even the
eloquent reporter of the "Republican Court Journal" failed to do it
justice. A little later in the evening Dureezie and his celebrated
troupe arrived, armed with all the celebrated dances--waltzes, polkas,
etc.--then known, and one or two others composed expressly for this
occasion.
And, when they had taken their places, Claudia and her party came down
into the front drawing room to be ready to receive the company.
On this occasion it was Miss Merlin's whim to dress with exceeding
richness. She wore a robe of dazzling splendor--a fabric of the looms of
India, a sort of gauze of gold, that seemed to be composed of woven
sunbeams, and floated gracefully around her elegant figure and accorded
well with her dark beauty. The bodice of this gorgeous dress was
literally starred with diamonds. A coronet of diamonds flashed above her
black ringlets, a necklace of diamonds rested upon her full bosom, and
bracelets of the same encircled her rounded arms. Such a glowing,
splendid, refulgent figure as she presented suggested the idea of a
Mohammedan sultana rather than that of a Christian maiden. But it was
Miss Merlin's caprice upon this occasion to dazzle, bewilder, and
astonish.
Bee, who stood near her like a maid of honor to a queen, was dressed
with her usual simplicity and taste, in a fine white crêpe, with a
single white lily on her bosom.
Mrs. Middleton, standing also with Claudia, wore a robe of silver gray.
And this pure white on one side and pale gray on the other did but
heighten the effect of Claudia's magnificent costume.
The fashionable hour for assembling at evening parties was then ten
o'clock. By a quarter past ten the company began to arrive, and by
eleven the rooms were quite full.
The Viscount Vincent arrived early, and devoted himself to Miss Merlin,
standing behind her chair like a lord in waiting.
Ishmael was also present with this group ostensibly in attendance upon
Beatrice, but really and truly waiting every turn of Claudia's
countenance or conversation.
While they were all standing, grouped in this way, to receive all
comers, Judge Merlin approached, smiling, and accompanied by an officer
in the uniform of the United States army, whom he presented in these
words:
"Claudia, my love, I bring you an old acquaintance--a very old
acquaintance--Captain Burghe."
Claudia bowed as haughtily and distantly as it was possible to do; and
then, without speaking, glanced inquiringly at her father as if to
ask--"How came this person here?"
Judge Merlin replied to that mute question by saying:
"I was so lucky as to meet our young friend on the Avenue to-day; he is
but just arrived. I told him what was going on here this evening and
begged him to waive ceremony and come to us. And he was so good as to
take me at my word! Bee, my dear, don't you remember your old playmate,
Alfred Burghe?" said the judge, appealing for relief to his amiable
niece.
Now, Bee was too kind-hearted to hurt anyone's feelings, and yet too
truthful to make professions she did not feel. She could not positively
say that she was glad to see Alfred Burghe; but she could give him her
hand and say:
"I hope you are well, Mr. Burghe."
"Captain! Captain, my dear! he commands a company now! Lord Vincent
permit me--Captain Burghe."
A haughty bow from the viscount and a reverential one from the captain
acknowledged this presentation.
Then Mrs. Middleton kindly shook hands with the unwelcome visitor.
And finally Claudia unbent a little from her hauteur and condescended to
address a few commonplace remarks to him. But at length her eyes flashed
upon Ishmael standing behind Bee.
"You are acquainted with Mr. Worth, I presume, Captain Burghe?" she
inquired.
"I have not that honor," said Alfred Burghe arrogantly.
"Then I will confer it upon you!" said Claudia very gravely. "Mr. Worth,
I hope you will permit me to present to you Captain Burghe. Captain
Burghe, Mr. Worth, of the Washington bar."
Ishmael bowed with courtesy; but Alfred Burghe grew violently red in the
face, and with a short nod turned away.
"Captain Burghe has a bad memory, my lord!" said Claudia, turning to the
viscount. "The gentleman to whom I have just presented him once saved
his life at the imminent risk of his own. It is true the affair happened
long ago, when they were both boys; but it seems to me that if anyone
had exposed himself to a death by fire to rescue me from a burning
building, I should remember it to the latest day of my life."
"Pardon me, Miss Merlin. The circumstance to which you allude was beyond
my control, and Mr.--a--Word's share in it without my consent; his
service was, I believe, well repaid by my father; and the trouble with
me is not that my memory is defective, but rather that it is too
retentive. I remember the origin of--"
"Our acquaintance with Mr. Worth!" interrupted Claudia, turning deadly
pale and speaking in the low tones of suppressed passion. "Yes, I know!
there was a stopped carriage, rifled hampers, and detected thieves.
There was a young gentleman who dishonored his rank, and a noble working
boy who distinguished himself in that affair. I remember perfectly well
the circumstances to which you refer."
"You mistake, Miss Merlin," retorted Burghe, with a hot flush upon his
brow, "I do not refer to that boyish frolic, for it was no more! I refer
to--"
"Mr. Burghe, excuse me. Mr. Worth, will you do me the favor to tell the
band to strike up a quadrille? Lord Vincent, I presume they expect us to
open the ball. Bee, my dear, you are engaged to Mr. Worth for this set.
Be sure when he returns to come to the same set with us and be our
vis-à-vis," said Claudia, speaking rapidly.
Before she had finished Ishmael had gone upon her errand, and the band
struck up a lively quadrille. Claudia gave her hand to Lord Vincent, who
led her to the head of the first set. When Ishmael returned, Bee gave
him her hand and told him Claudia's wish, which, of course, had all the
force of a command for him, and he immediately led Bee to the place
opposite Lord Vincent and Hiss Merlin.
And Captain Burghe was left to bite his nails in foiled malignity.
But later in the evening he took his revenge and received his
punishment.
It happened in this manner: New quadrilles were being formed. Claudia
was again dancing with Lord Vincent, and they had taken their places at
the head of one of the sets. Ishmael was dancing with one of the poor
neglected "wallflowers" to whom Bee had kindly introduced him, and he
led his partner to a vacant place at the foot of one of the sets; he was
so much engaged in trying to entertain the shy and awkward girl that he
did not observe who was their vis-à-vis, or overhear the remarks that
were made.
But Claudia, who, with the viscount, was standing very near, heard and
saw all. She saw Ishmael lead his shy young partner up to a place in the
set, exactly opposite to where Alfred Burghe with his partner, Miss
Tourneysee, stood. And she heard Mr. Burghe whisper to Miss Tourneysee:
"Excuse me; and permit me to lead you to a seat. The person who has just
taken the place opposite to us is not a proper associate even for me,
still less for you."
And she saw Miss Tourneysee's look of surprise and heard her low-toned
exclamation:
"Why, it is Mr. Worth! I have danced with him often!"
"I am sorry to hear it. I hope you will take the word of an officer and
a gentleman that he is not a respectable person, and by no means a
proper acquaintance for any lady."
"But why not?"
"Pardon me. I cannot tell you why not. It is not a story fit for your
ears. But I will tell your father. For I think the real position of the
fellow ought to be known. In the meantime, will you take my word for the
truth of what I have said, and permit me to lead you to a seat?"
"Certainly," said the young lady, trembling with distress.
"I regret exceedingly to deprive you of your dance; but you perceive
that there is no other vacant place."
"Oh, don't mention it! Find me a seat."
This low-toned conversation, every word of which had been overheard by
Claudia who, though in another set, stood nearly back to back with the
speaker, was entirely lost to Ishmael, who stood at the foot of the same
set with him, but was at a greater distance, and was besides quite
absorbed in the task of reassuring his timid schoolgirl companion.
Just as Burghe turned to lead his partner away, and Ishmael, attracted
by the movement, lifted his eyes to see the cause, Claudia gently drew
Lord Vincent after her, and going up to the retiring couple said:
"Miss Tourneysee, I beg your pardon; but will you and your partner do
myself and Lord Vincent the favor to exchange places with us? We
particularly desire to form a part of this set."
"Oh, certainly!" said the young lady, wondering, but rejoiced to find
that she should not be obliged to miss the dance.
They exchanged places accordingly; but as they still stood very near
together, Claudia heard him whisper to his partner:
"This evening I think I will speak to your father and some other
gentlemen and enlighten them as to who this fellow really is!"
Claudia heard all this; but commanded herself. Her face was pale as
marble; her lips were bloodless; but her dark eyes had the terrible
gleam of suppressed but determined hatred! In such moods as hers, people
have sometimes planned murder.
However, she went through all the four dances very composedly. And when
they were over and Lord Vincent had led her to a seat, she sent him to
fetch her a glass of water, while she kept her eye on the movements of
Captain Burghe, until she saw him deposit his partner on a sofa and
leave her to fetch a cream, or some such refreshment.
And then Claudia arose, drank the ice-water brought her by the viscount,
set the empty glass on a stand and requested Lord Vincent to give her
his arm down the room, as she wished to speak to Captain Burghe.
The viscount glanced at her in surprise, saw that her face was
bloodless; but ascribed her pallor to fatigue.
Leaning on Lord Vincent's arm, she went down the whole length of the
room until she paused before the sofa on which sat Miss Tourneysee and
several other ladies, attended by General Tourneysee, Captain Burghe and
other gentlemen.
Burghe stood in front of the sofa, facing the ladies and with his back
towards Claudia, of whose approach he was entirely ignorant, as he
discoursed as follows:
"Quite unfit to be received in respectable society, I assure you,
General! Came of a wretchedly degraded set, the lowest of the low, upon
my honor. This fellow--"
Claudia touched his shoulder with the end of her fan.
Alfred Burghe turned sharply around and confronted Miss Merlin, and on
meeting her eyes grew as pale as she was herself.
"Captain Burghe," she said, modulating her voice to low and courteous
tones, "you have had the misfortune to malign one of our most esteemed
friends, at present a member of our household. I regret this accident
exceedingly, as it puts me under the painful necessity of requesting you
to leave the house with as little delay as possible!"
"Miss Merlin--ma'am!" began the captain, crimsoning with shame and rage.
"You have heard my request, sir! I have no more to say but to wish you a
very good evening," said Claudia, as with a low and sweeping courtesy
she turned away.
Passing near the hall where the footmen waited, she spoke to one of
them, saying:
"Powers, attend that gentleman to the front door."
All this was done so quietly that Alfred Burghe was able to slink from
the room, unobserved by anyone except the little group around the sofa,
whom he had been entertaining with his calumnies. To them he had
muttered that he would have satisfaction; that he would call Miss
Merlin's father to a severe account for the impertinence of his
daughter, etc.
But the consternation produced by these threats was soon dissipated. The
band struck up an alluring waltz, and Lord Vincent claimed the hand of
Beatrice, and Ishmael, smiling, radiant and unsuspicious, came in search
of Miss Tourneysee, who accepted his hand for the dance without an
instant's hesitation.
"Do you know"--inquired Miss Tourneysee, with a little curiosity to
ascertain whether there was any mutual enmity between Burghe and
Ishmael--"do you know who that Captain Burghe is that danced the last
quadrille with me?"
"Yes; he is the son of the late Commodore Burghe, who was a gallant
officer, a veteran of 1812, and did good service during the last War of
Independence," said Ishmael generously, uttering not one word against
his implacable foe.
Miss Tourneysee looked at him wistfully and inquired: "Is the son as
good a man as the father?"
"I have not known Captain Burghe since we were at school together."
"I do not like him. I do not think he is a gentleman," said Miss
Tourneysee.
Ishmael did not reply. It was not his way to speak even deserved evil of
the absent.
But Miss Tourneysee drew a mental comparison between the meanness of
Alfred's conduct and the nobility of Ishmael's. And the dance succeeded
the conversation.
Claudia remained sitting on the sofa beside Mrs. Middleton, until at the
close of the dance, when she was rejoined by the viscount, who did not
leave her again during the evening.
The early summer nights were short, and so it was near the dawn when the
company separated.
The party as a whole had been the most splendid success of the season.