CONSIDINE.
A great rise in the world had come to Cornelius Jordan, Q C. They seem
all to be Q.C.'s, my reader, those lawyers in Canada; or more than
half of them. The Queen is so remote a centre, that the beams of her
favour are very widely, if thinly, spread, and this especial title of
honour has come to be regarded as a polite and inexpensive attention
which new prime ministers make haste to bestow upon their friends. And
there are so many prime ministers, that at last it became a ground of
dispute, between the minor premiers of the several provinces, and the
premier-major at Ottawa, as to which should have the exclusive run of
the alphabet for decorative purposes. Mr. Jordan, I repeat, had risen
since we met him last at the Misses Stanley's garden tea. Then he was
a rising man in his profession, doing well, and in comfortable
circumstances; now, he was one risen--full head and shoulders above
his fellows, living in a house of the very largest size, and with
horses and servants to equal the most prosperous of his neighbours,
and reported to be wealthy; not with the startling but evanescent
opulence of the merchant prince, which to-day is, and to-morrow is
nowhere; but with the reality which attaches to professional wealth in
the popular mind, as money actually coined from a man's own brain--the
golden fees raked in from grateful clients--without risk, and
irrespective of rising and falling markets. His name was spoken with
that slight involuntary pause before and after which carries more
distinction than any title; it is a form of respect so undefined.
"What a man he must be!" his neighbours said, "to have made so much
money, and made it so quickly!" made it at his profession, too. Nobody
doubted that, for his name was never mixed up in other affairs.
It would have been hard guessing for a _quidnunc_ about the Court
House, had he attempted to trace how all that prosperity had been
built up out of the fairly good solicitor's and conveyancer's practice
carried on at his chambers, or from his not unusually frequent or
brilliant appearances in Court; though now that the fruits of success
were so evident, these were vastly on the increase. "Ah!" those
knowing ones would say, "he is not a brilliant speaker; but sound,
sir, sound! What a head for Law the man must have! What clearness of
understanding, to have realized such an income. What a style of living
he keeps up! How many thousands a year does it take? Quite the leading
counsel at our bar." And so clients multiplied, and the suitor whose
case failed in his hands felt surer it had had the best presentment
than he would have felt had it succeeded with any one else. "If Jordan
could not win the suit, pray who could?"
Jordan was liked, too, as well as respected. How could he fail of
that? At his dinners, given every week all through the winter, were
found the choicest bills of fare and the best people, and every one
else was invited to share the feast. It is manifest that one cannot
talk unkindly of a man while the flavour of his wine still hovers
about the palate--so long, that is, as there is prospect of another
invitation. When the last dinner has been eaten, and the last bottle
of wine drunk, then truth is apt to come up from the bottom of her
well--disturbed, no doubt, by the pumping, when the family is forced
to resume water as a beverage--and people's memories become
wonderfully refreshed. They recollect--the women, that is--that really
the man's wife was not a lady, that things were said at the time of
the marriage, and there has been such levity and extravagance since;
while the men shake their heads in cynical wisdom. They knew it from
the first, and wonder how it has gone on so long, and how a fellow
like that could have had the effrontery to entertain their high
mightinesses so profusely.
For the present, however, if there was any unacceptable truth at the
bottom of Jordan's well, she had the kindness to remain there, well
out of sight. The hospitalities proceeded in a genial round; every one
was proud to assist at them and spoke highly of the entertainer.
Considine was the only man who had a misgiving, and he kept his doubts
and surmises to himself, hoping he was in error. He was associated
with this man in many ways; and nothing is gained by letting slip an
insinuation against a friend, even if good feeling did not stamp the
act as abominable. His own conscience, too, was not at rest in the
matter, for the expansion appeared to him to date from very shortly
after the change they had adopted in managing the Herkimer Estate. He
reproached himself constantly for having consented to sell out the old
man's investments, and wondered how he could have been tempted by
those miserable brokerages to smirch the honest record of a lifetime.
No doubt there had been considerable gain on the new securities
purchased with the moiety of the funds which he administered; but what
of the other half? Jordan had displayed so implicit a confidence in
his judgment, such complete beautiful and gentlemanlike faith in his
probity, waiving explanations, motioning off statements with
expressions of unbounded reliance in his ability to do what was best,
while really "in the press of other matters he had no leisure for
unnecessary examinations into matters on which he could not advise,"
that Considine was completely silenced, and was left no opening to
claim reciprocal explanations as to how the moneys in Jordan's hands
had been applied.
He heard on 'Change now and then of Jordan granting short loans at
fancy rates, and of his "doing" paper which was far from being
"gilt-edged," and he thought of that other moiety of the Herkimer
fortune. Such operations are not the way in which trust moneys are
used for the benefit of the trust; but rather one in which, while
loss, if there be any, must needs fall on the trust, the extra profit
accrues to the trustee. And what other funds could Jordan have to
operate with? Considine knew of none but those which should have been
otherwise employed, and for which, he himself would be held
responsible if any misadventure were to befall them, and the sum was
so large that in case of a catastrophe his own poor little fortune
would go but a small way to make up the loss. He could contemplate
that with comparative patience--though certainly it would be hard,
after the labours and vicissitudes of a lifetime, to see the provision
for his declining years swept into a pit, and one not of his own
digging--but disgrace would accompany the ruin; that was the
intolerable thought.
To finish a life in which he had striven to keep his hands unsoiled
and his name without reproach as a defaulting trustee! How he had been
wont to scorn such, when they crossed his path! And to think that he
should end in being classed with them! Who would stop to inquire into
the merits? Had he ever himself stopped to sift the intricacies of a
defalcation, before declaring the defaulter to be a rogue? Had not the
money been confided to his care, and was he not responsible for it to
the heirs? Many a night when he lay awake in the darkness, with
nothing to break the stillness but the ticking of his watch at the
bed-head, the misgiving and the dread would waken in his mind, and
possess him with the restless misery of an aching tooth, which would
not be dulled or forgotten, toss and stretch himself as he might; and
he would vow in desperation to go down the first thing in the morning
and have it out with Jordan; and so, at last, he would fall into a
dose, as the grey twilight was stealing on the night.
In the morning his resolution would be with him still. All through
dressing and shaving he would feel determined "to have it out with
Jordan," and he would run over in his mind the points of his
unanswerable argument on which his co-trustee must needs be caught,
and compelled to the fullest explanation, clearing away another
expected sophism in the defence, with each scrape of the razor on his
chin. When he descended to breakfast, however, the morning papers, the
smoke of the coffee, the greetings of his fellow-boarders in the
hotel, would gradually lead him back to the tone of every-day life and
its amenities, and then his intentions would grow less stern. The
trenchant points in his argument would grow dim before his eyes, and
he would recollect how many things there might be to say on the other
side. Perhaps, too, he might have been misinformed as to something, or
he might be under some misapprehension--for who, after all, can tell
the true inwardness of his neighbour's affairs until death or
bankruptcy overtake him?--and how very uncomfortable his position
would then be! In what an ungenerous, nay, churlish light he would be
exhibiting himself before this most open-hearted and genial of all his
friends! Indeed the prospect was not pleasant; then why should he
force an interview and place himself in a false position? Was it not a
shame in one claiming to be "high-toned," a soldier and a Southern
gentleman of _ante bellum_ times, to harbour injurious suspicions of a
friend? "He must be bilious this morning--want of exercise. He would
ride off his megrims in a two hours' gallop."
And so the days would pass in struggles to drive away the doubts which
returned but the more persistently with darkness to spoil his sleep,
till at length, in dread of their nightly upbraidings, he would nerve
himself to the ungrateful task and stride down to Jordan's chambers,
frowningly constraining himself to anticipate the worst, if only to
keep his courage from oozing away, as it sometimes would, when he
reached the office door, leaving him to turn aside at the last moment
and retreat ignominiously into his club, there to solace his drooping
self-respect with brandy and soda. When, however, in sterner mood he
persevered, it was still not always that the much-engaged lawyer could
be seen. He was busy upon a case and could see no one; a client was
with him, and two more were waiting their turn for an audience, or he
was in court, and Considine--not altogether sorry at the respite--went
home in comparative relief. He had done what he could, at least, and
surely now the suspicions would leave him for a night or two and let
him sleep in peace.
Once or twice, by a lucky chance, he was able to catch the busy man at
a vacant moment intrenched behind black bags bursting with briefs,
volumes of consolidated statutes, and calf-bound authorities.
"Ha, Considine!" he would cry, in a tone almost too jolly for "the
profession" in business hours, "so glad to have been disengaged when
you called! See you so seldom. Sit down, old man, and tell me what I
can do for you. Don't hurry, I am at leisure now--that is to say, for
the next four minutes and a half," he would add, pulling out his
watch. "Am to see the judge in chambers just five minutes from now.
But take time, I can run down in thirty seconds, so you have good four
minutes and a half. So glad you dropped in when I was at leisure."
Then Considine would hesitate and grow confused. He had charged
batteries of artillery in his day, had "difficulties" on Mississippi
steamboats, which were afterwards arranged with six shooters, "each to
go on firing till one dropped," and he had never flinched from his
task or quailed before antagonist. But how call this man antagonist?
He seemed more ready to embrace than to fight. It was grievous to see
him so friendly, and made our warrior feel but a shabby fellow with
his inquiries and questions, which would sound so like insinuations,
and might wound the genial soul which bore him so much goodwill. Being
in for it, however, he must go on. It would never do for a
Mississippian to run away, even in honour's cause. He pulled from his
pocket a list of the bonds and debentures he held under their joint
trusteeship.
"I want you to examine this list of securities, which I keep in my box
at the Bank of Progress, and indorse your approval on the back, if you
do approve, and we can go over to the bank and compare the papers with
the memorandum any day you find convenient."
"Tush, man! It's all perfectly right, I am quite certain. I have every
confidence in you, General," declining to receive the paper.
"But I really wish you would look at it. I feel this irregular
responsibility unpleasant."
"Bosh! it's all regular enough among friends. You know Ralph Herkimer
this ever so long, and I should hope you know _me!_ Imagine either of
us getting ugly, and blaming you--whom the testator trusted so
entirely--for anything you may do. No, no! And really, you must
excuse me, but I cannot afford to muddle my head with unnecessary
figures--even to please you! I need, all my clearness for the delicate
questions which arise in my practice. I abominate figures at all
times, and never tackle them unnecessarily."
"But ought not I to affix some sort of approval to the mortgages you
have bought for the estate?"
Jordan lifted his eyes to the other's face, in gentle wonder, as a
good man might when wounded rather than offended by an unlooked for
aspersion on his honour; and Considine, confused and abashed, stopped
short, and then floundered on again:
"I mean it, of course, in no distrustfulness--for what should I
distrust?--but just so as fairly and fully to divide the
responsibility in case of the heirs desiring to call us to account."
"I really do not know," answered Jordan, matching his voice to the
look of mild disappointment without reproach which the other found it
so hard to bear up under; "I really don't know. I have not considered
the point. It did not occur to me that you would wish to enter into
the intricacies of titles in this country, which is a comparatively
old one, and the tenures bear no resemblance to those of Mississippi,
where I am told you go back only to General Jackson. Our system of
law, too, is very different, being derived from the French, and not
from the common law, as with you. No! It did not occur to me that you
could possibly wish to enter into these mysteries. Our period of
trusteeship, too, is drawing near its close. Three years, I should
suppose, would conclude it; though I cannot speak precisely without
reference to the will, and the date of Mrs. Selby's marriage. Will the
study of our Quebec land-system repay you, do you think? And our
friend Ralph is so entirely satisfied. Why should you bother?
"But we are not responsible to Ralph."
"No, not exactly. But it will be his boy Gerald, which is much the
same thing. The lad goes into partnership with his father shortly, so
their interests are identical; and it would surprise me to be told
that Master Gerald did or knew anything but what his father told him.
A nice boy. Wish my scapegrace was as manageable."
"I have never felt sure of that--of Ralph's boy being heir, I mean.
There has been no proof of the missing infant's death; and where there
is money the claimant seemingly never dies, but is always reappearing
when least expected. But if, as you anticipate, it is to be Ralph we
shall have to make up accounts with in the end, I am not confident
that we might not have trouble, if he saw an opening for complaint. I
have known him long, as you are aware, he is a fine man for
business--none better--and has made a handsome fortune, but I had
rather not be in his power."
"No fear of that! I fancy I know blaster Ralph, too," pulling out his
watch, "but there are few men of mark, especially in business, whom we
lawyers cannot lay a hand on, when necessary, to keep them quiet. His
bark would be worse than his bite in our case, for I think I know
where to light on a muzzle that will keep him quiet enough. Time's up,
I see. If you are bent on overhauling those papers of mine, why not
come up to dinner some evening? We could do it far more comfortably
with the help of a glass of sherry and a good cigar. What day will you
come? Friday? Or, let me see, what are you doing this evening? Come up
to-night. Half-past seven, sharp. Good-bye, for the present. So glad
you are coming."
And Considine would go as invited, and would find a number of other
guests assembled; and Jordan would be all geniality and pleasure at
having him; but never an allusion to business would escape his lips,
nor would they find themselves alone together, even for a moment, till
the evening was spent and it was time to go home. And so it fell that
Considine's anxieties, while seeming to himself to require but one
vigorous effort to end them, were never resolved, but hung about him
vague and undefined, like the beginning of a low fever which has not
as yet pronounced itself; causing restlessness and care, but bringing
also a habit of acceptance which enabled him to live his life in spite
of it, only with a diminished relish. His distrust wore in time out of
the acute into the chronic form; and it is remarkable, with time, how
much of anxiety a healthy man can work through, and apparently be none
the worse. Endurance brings a kind of strength to the mind like that
which persistence does to the body, when the arsenic eater, after
having consumed ounces of the deadly stuff, becomes able to swallow
with impunity more than would have killed him not so many months
before. The gouty and the rheumatic, too, how long they live!--live
and enjoy even, somewhat, through their sufferings.
And in some such fashion Considine lived on, in moderate comfort and
prosperity, with the shadow of possible ruin in the back-ground;
always felt, but not so strongly that he must disturb the daily
furniture of his life by an effort to exorcise the demon; which is a
state of things not so very different from what the rest of us endure.
We have our threatening shadows too, loss, disease, madness, not so
very far off, and always the dismal shade of Death himself looming up
behind and dwarfing all the others; yet, like the people before the
flood, we manage pretty well to comfort and amuse ourselves in the
present.
Considine solaced himself not unsuccessfully under his cares. He had
naturally much of the wise vegetable enjoyment of existence, and
things conducing thereto, eating, smoking and gentle exercise, which
is natural to the country bred more than to those brought up in
cities. He had 'Change through the day to gossip and lounge upon, and
his club in the evening. He had opportunities too of going into
society, even if he did not make the most of them, and very frequently
he would spend an hour in the Misses Stanley's drawing-room, sipping
tea and talking over the news. He had fallen into the way of spending
the hot months at St. Euphrase, just as those ladies spent the cold
ones in the city. Their migrations agreed pretty closely in time, and
both he and they, owing to years and circumstances, being somewhat out
of the swim of busy life, found it pleasant to sit together on the
banks, as it were, and watch the gambols and antics of those younger
and brisker, who disported themselves in mid-current.
The ladies had come to town the first winter solely for their niece's
education, but the following year they undoubtedly had their own
solacement quite as much in view as her improvement. The tranquillity
and repose of their rural life was if anything too complete, and after
having once broken it by wintering in the city, it would have felt
like returning to bed after lunch to have remained in the country all
the following year. There is a feeling of companionship to be derived
even from the faces of our fellows as they pass us in the street,
which is pleasant to such as have been leading secluded lives, and it
takes months for this mild excitement to lose its relish; but it will
grow tame eventually, and so, too, will the morning calls among ladies
of a certain age. Humanity being in two forms, which combine with and
supplement each other to constitute the perfect whole, a social circle
composed of one kind alone must needs be incomplete, tending to
limpness if it be feminine, to hardness if all of men.
The day for flirtation and matrimonial intentions may be over, but
still the habits and tastes formed in that brighter time survive, even
when incorrigible celibacy has caused society to pass by the offenders
as hopeless subjects. Fortune, by endowing a young lady with
competence, grants her the privilege to be unworldly or critical, so
that she lets her precious springtime pass unused. The privilege is by
no means an unalloyed boon as the years go by. She finds herself
inadmissible to the conclaves of matrons of her own age, where
husbands, doctors and children are discussed with freedom; yet her
god-daughters and nieces can scarcely be expected to accept her as a
compeer; she is a _demoiselle passée_, an outside hoverer on the
confines of social life, with the gay bachelors of earlier decades who
are still unwed, and whom society passes by as obdurate and hopelessly
unavailable for matrimonial use.
It is pitiful to see these disappointed "have-beens," with their
relish for youthful pleasures still unslaked, flitting in a
disregarded twilight, like Homer's ghosts, while the reviving blood of
the sacrificial bull is quaffed by other lips. Well for them, is it
not, if they can make up a little party among themselves, and by
keeping each other in countenance, contrive to ruffle it without
ridicule among the younger revellers?
And so, from mutual convenience and sympathy, Considine and the Misses
Stanley became fast comrades. In their drawing-room he could drink a
cup of tea with the ladies whenever he had a mind, and they were sure
of an escort for the evening when they so desired.