A MATRIMONIAL SPECULATION.
FIVE years had not passed over the head of Lawrence Dunbar without
advances being made by him in certain quarters for the purpose of
securing an advantageous matrimonial alliance. That was something of
which he never for a moment lost sight. Three times had he met with
signal failures; but a renewed effort, and in a new quarter, promised a
somewhat better result.
A young lady named Henrietta Gay, said to be worth sixty or seventy
thousand dollars in her own right, made her appearance in fashionable
circles a few months before the time Dunbar thought it wise to dissolve
the business relation that had for some years existed between him and
Mr. Harker. Miss Gay was from Baltimore, and had come to live with a
relative, a widow lady, residing in Philadelphia. About her personal
appearance there was nothing attractive; neither were her manners
agreeable, nor her conversation intelligent and interesting. Two or
three fortune hunters approached, as soon as her money-value became
known, but there was something about her that instinctively repulsed
them.
As Miss Gay was a near relative of a certain very distinguished citizen
of Maryland, and had connexions of standing and wealth in Philadelphia,
her introduction into fashionable circles was direct. Dunbar was rot
long in finding her out; nor did he allow space for much hesitation
before becoming her devoted admirer. The young attorney was handsome
and agreeable; and every one spoke of him as possessing talents of
a high order that would inevitably carry him up to a distinguished
position. His attentions were of the most flattering kind, and Miss
Gay was flattered by them. The conquest was easier than Dunbar had
expected. The lady's heart was won at the first assault. After having
gained the prize, the lawyer began to think more seriously about
the value, and to feel a desire to know something more certain on
that head. Common report set down the fortune of Miss Gay at seventy
thousand dollars. It might be more or it might be less; but to no
prudent investigation ventured upon came any satisfactory answer. It
would not do to press the matter too closely, lest, by some means, his
affection for the lady's money instead of herself, should get wind and
be breathed into her ears. The understanding in regard to her wealth
was so general and decided, that Dunbar felt pretty well satisfied that
he had gained a prize in the matrimonial lottery.
A more intimate association with Miss Gay, after the engagement had
taken place, made Dunbar acquainted with points in her character that
were by no means agreeable. She possessed a strong self-will; had very
contracted views of everything, and was passionate in the extreme.
Whatever her money might do for him, it was soon clear to his mind,
that, personally, she would reflect no light upon him in society. Take
her all in all, she was the most uninteresting and unattractive woman
he had ever known. To this conclusion he was reluctantly forced, in
less than three months after his betrothment.
But from her to her sixty or seventy thousand dollars his thoughts
would turn, and then he always breathed more freely. He was anxious for
the time to come when that pretty little fortune would be fully within
his possession.
"Add that to what I already have," he would sometimes say, "and I
think I may not fear to shake my fist in the world's face, and bid it
defiance."
The young attorney would have named an early day for the marriage, but
the lady was in no hurry. The ensuing spring she thought quite time
enough. It was then midsummer. Delicacy forbade his urging the matter,
and so he submitted to lie out of her handsome fortune for six or eight
months, with as good a grace as possible.
The lawyer of old Mr. Harrison called upon that gentleman on the
morning following his interview with Dunbar.
"He has declined the proposition," said Harrison, as soon as the
attorney appeared.
"Has he, indeed?"
"Yes. Here is his note, declaring it his intention, under advice of
counsel, to prosecute the matter to a decision."
"He has good counsel, and will, doubtless, run us hard, though I by no
means consider the case desperate. If a compromise could be effected,
however, I cannot but think it would be the wisest for us to accept it."
"But how is it to be brought about?"
"Every man has his price."
"So I hold."
"And this Dunbar among the rest."
"No doubt of it."
"He is to get ten thousand dollars if he succeeds in establishing his
client's right in the property you hold."
"So I understand."
"It is the fee, and nothing else, that binds him to Malcolm."
"Then you think Dunbar has a money-price."
"I am sure of it. Could anything but the money of Miss Gay tempt him
into a marriage contract with her, which I am told has actually been
formed."
"You must be in error," said Mr. Harrison, with a look of surprise.
"No, I believe not."
"With Miss Gay?"
"Yes."
The old gentleman indulged himself for a moment or two in an inward
laugh or chuckle, and then said—
"Well, how are we to manage this sharp young attorney, who has arrayed
his artillery in such a formidable style?"
"By paying him better for losing Malcolm's suit than Malcolm pays him
for gaining it."
"Aha! is that your game? And you think this can be done?"
"I have no doubt of it."
"You think he can sacrifice his client if so disposed."
"Oh, yes. By the introduction of some defect in his bill, he can put it
in my power to throw him out of court on a demurrer."
"But that will not settle the matter. Malcolm can order him or some
other lawyer to begin de novo with an amended bill."
"True; but before that can be done the costs must all be paid. They
may be made so heavy that Malcolm will find himself in no condition
to settle them. Then, by executing what little he has, under an order
of the court for the recovery of costs, we may break him up riot and
branch, and so get rid of him in that way."
"You're a sharp set of boys," said old Mr. Harrison. "And I rather
think a man's a fool to allow you to get him into your hands. If I'd
paid this Malcolm the twenty-five thousand dollars he originally asked,
I would have been wise. Now I shall think myself well off if I escape
with a loss of double that sum."
"It won't be so bad as that, I guess. I am very sure that an offer
of twenty-five or thirty thousand dollars will completely silence
all scruples of conscience that Dunbar may happen to have, and fully
satisfy his cupidity."
"Twenty-five or thirty thousand, indeed! I agree with you that he has
his price, and a pretty high one it is, by the way. He must be more
reasonable than that."
"Shall I feel his pulse?"
"Oh, yes. It will do no harm to know how it beats."
"A precious set of rascals!" exclaimed Harrison, after the lawyer had
left him. "This Dunbar is the man I once heard Harker prophesy would
rise in the world. And he is rising sure enough. At this rate of
elevation, he will soon be out of sight of all honest men. But he's
keen if he gets ahead of me in this affair. If I am not mistaken, I
can play off a card upon him that he little dreams is in my hand. And
as for my own keen attorney will take good care never again to venture
on the ocean of law with him as my pilot. The man who would propose a
bribe would take one."
"I have felt his pulse," said the lawyer of Harrison, sententiously, as
that gentleman entered his office, and leisurely seated himself, a few
days afterwards.
"Well. How does it beat?"
"Healthily as we could wish. He is not adverse; but, as I supposed he
would do, fixes his price high."
"How much?"
"He must have thirty thousand dollars."
"The deuce he must! You did not go wide of the mark when you named the
price that would buy him."
"No. It seems that I was correct. I thought I knew him pretty well."
"Then for thirty thousand dollars guaranteed to him in case we make
good our defence through a flaw in his bill, he will so frame his bill
as to leave room for a demurrer."
"Yes. That is what he assents to."
"Very well; we understand him clearly. Now what is your opinion? Shall
we pay him this large sum to give us the case, or shall we push on, and
try to get it in spite of him?"
"I am clearly of opinion," replied the lawyer, "that we ought to plough
with Malcolm's heifer, seeing that he is ready to bend his neck to the
yoke. It will cost something, but it makes so much sure."
"Very well. You can arrange the matter with Dunbar. At the proper time
I will be ready to fulfil my part of the contract."
"He is not willing to act as proposed, unless he has the most ample
security that the amount specified will be forthcoming," said the
lawyer, slightly hesitating as he spoke.
"Ah! I suppose not," replied Harrison. "Let him name the security he
wants, and I will see if I cannot satisfy him."
"Very well. That is all he asks."
"Tell him," said Harrison, "to be sure that the flaw in the bill is
palpable. It would be folly for him to undertake the matter and not do
it well."
"I will myself see to that," replied the lawyer.
"How soon will the case come up?" asked Harrison.
"The longer we can keep it off the better."
"How so?"
"By that means we shall accumulate heavy costs, which will have to be
settled before a new bill can be filed."
"Ah! Yes; I see."
"I hardly think we shall get an argument on the demurrer before six or
nine months."
"So long? I wish it could be earlier."
"There is too much at stake to hurry the matter."
"True. I must leave all to your better judgment."
The lawyer and his client parted, each thinking that he understood the
other fully; but both were a little mistaken in this.