THE ACTING HEAD OF THE FIRM
Mr. Austin and Rodney left the house together, and so disappointed
Miss Joyce, who was waiting to have one or two last words with Mr.
Elmore. Having parted from Mr. Austin, Rodney paid a few calls on his
way to St. Paul's Churchyard.
To begin with, he went into a jeweller's shop, and bought a ring set
with pearls and diamonds--a simple, inexpensive trifle, which cost six
pounds. It was designed for Stella's finger, and was to be her
engagement ring.
"It won't do," he said to himself, "for it to cost too much, for one
of her inquiring family will want to know where I got the money from.
She'll value it none the less because 'I can no more, though poor the
offering be.'"
Then he looked in at the offices of the White Star Steamship Company,
and paid a deposit on a berth which he booked on a steamer which was
to sail from Liverpool to New York on the following Thursday, booking
it in the name of John Griffiths; then into the offices of the Royal
Mail Steam Packet Company, where he booked a berth for the following
Friday, from Southampton to Buenos Ayres, in the name of Charles
Dickinson; then to the Cunard offices, where he booked for Saturday to
New York, in the name of Adolphus Ridgway. Afterwards he visited the
Bishop's Registry, in Doctors' Commons, and there, having made certain
affidavits, received, in exchange for two sovereigns, a strip of paper
which authorised him to marry Gladys Patterson, spinster, at any
church in the London diocese. Thus prepared, as one might suppose, for
more than one emergency, he paid still another call before proceeding
to St. Paul's Churchyard--on Clarence Parmiter, solicitor. From him he
wanted to know what forms it would be necessary to go through to
enable Miss Patterson to draw on her late father's banking account.
Mr. Parmiter explained that to do this it would be necessary, first of
all, to prove Mr. Patterson's will--and it was not usual to do that,
at any rate, till after the testator was buried. When, Mr. Parmiter
asked, was the funeral to take place. In spite of himself, his visitor
smiled; so fast had events come crowding on him that the fact that the
dead man would have to be put into his grave had entirely escaped his
notice--so far as he was aware, no arrangements for the funeral had
been made of any sort or kind. Mr. Parmiter looked as if he felt that
the smile with which this announcement was made was a little out of
place. He said that probably Rodney would find that the matter had
been arranged by one of the executors, or by Miss Patterson herself.
If cash was wanted in the interim; if Miss Patterson and Mr. Andrews,
as executor, would attend with him at a bank with which Mr. Patterson
had an account, he did not doubt that arrangements might be made which
would provide the lady with such advances as she required; and, of
course, if she chose, she might instruct the bank to honour any
cheques which he--Rodney Elmore--might draw, acting on her behalf.
Mr. Elmore left his friend's chambers with a feeling strong upon him
that the business of getting his uncle's money out of the bank was not
going to be as simple as he had hoped it would be. Clarence Parmiter
even told him that the bank would not now honour any cheque which
Graham Patterson might have drawn while still alive. This he did feel
was unreasonable; it rendered even forgery futile. If he could wait he
did not doubt that matters would be perfectly all right; but--could he
wait? If only certain difficulties could be smoothed away, and he was
given time, he did not doubt that he would be able to load himself
with money; but could they be smoothed away, even for a week? Danger
threatened from so many quarters; he really had been such an utter
fool. If he had only realised what a fool, he would have taken
precious good care to walk more warily; he would have been a wiser and
a better man. But wisdom after the event was easy; what he needed was
to be ready at a moment's notice for whatever came. He had planned
escape in three different directions on three following days--if
he could only get away with enough money to count! There was that
nest-egg which he had found in his uncle's drawer, but what was that
to a man in his plight? What he wanted was ten, or even, say, five
thousand pounds. With five thousand pounds he might do very well on
the other side of the world.
As, strolling leisurely along, he considered the matter in all its
bearings calmly, it appeared to him that nothing worth calling money
could be got at least until the morrow. In the morning he would meet
his cousin at the bank, with Parmiter and Andrews; the arrangements
would be made of which Parmiter had spoken; then, immediately after,
he would be free to lay hands on as much ready cash as the
arrangements permitted. He had no doubt that everything would be all
right until to-morrow--he would so manage that it should be; all the
same, he would have liked to have had a good supply of coin at his
command, in case. However, it was no use grizzling at what might not
be. He smiled as he arrived at this conclusion; he was still smiling
when he reached the office. He marched, as a matter of course, to the
room which had been his uncle's own particular sanctum, and this time
no one even as much as hinted nay. Indeed, he was presently followed
by Andrews, who informed him, with a countenance of decent solemnity,
that he had made arrangements, which he hoped would meet with his and
Miss Patterson's approval, for the interment of Mr. Patterson's
remains in the family vault at Kensal Green, the interment to take
place upon the morrow--Wednesday. Tickled by certain thoughts of his
own, Rodney smiled as he listened; but this time, as his face was bent
over the table, it is possible that the smile went unnoticed. He
expressed himself as greatly obliged by what Andrews had done, and was
certain that his feelings would be shared by Miss Patterson. Indeed,
he was convinced that Miss Patterson would be willing to leave
everything in his charge, since she would feel assured that everything
he did would be right and proper and for the best. Mr. Andrews put his
hand up to his mouth and coughed--the cough of one who was sensible
that he deserved the compliment which was paid him.
He wanted to know if Mr. Elmore did not think it would be well to
close the office for the whole of to-morrow, so as to give the staff
an opportunity of at least attending at the graveside. They had all
been remembered in the will, and would like to show the last tokens of
respect for their dead master. Rodney, to whom the notion of marking
such an occasion as a sort of holiday was novel, informed Andrews that
the idea was excellent, and that he was at liberty to act in the
matter as he thought was right. Andrews then wanted to know if Miss
Patterson would be present, or if he--Rodney Elmore--would represent
her as chief mourner. The suggestion moved Rodney in a way he would
not have cared to admit. He had had no intention of attending his
uncle's funeral at all--and as chief mourner! He to represent his
cousin in such a capacity! That would be indeed to mock the dead. He
was conscious of a feeling which surprised himself; he had not
supposed he was so sensitive.
"I think," he told Andrews, "we must leave these points till later. I
will consult with Miss Patterson and--observe her wishes. There is
another matter," he went on. "Access to Mr. Patterson's banking
account is not so easy as I imagined. My acquaintance with the
procedure in these cases is nil; I don't know what yours amounts to."
"I know no more than you; this is the first time I find myself in such
a position. Two payments of some importance are to be made this week;
I was wondering how they would be met. Of course, if representations
are made, time will be given."
"But, all the same, you would rather the payments were made? Exactly
my feelings, Andrews; I want everything to be done in due order. I am
going to arrange for Miss Patterson to meet you and Mr. Parmiter at
the bank to-morrow morning, when I am advised that it will be possible
to make arrangements which will enable us to meet all liabilities as
they fall due. By the way, I believe that the trading account
pass-book is in your charge; you might let me look at it."
Rodney examined the book when it was brought to him with great
attention. He was already posted in certain figures which had to deal
with his uncle's private account. Customers were brought in to him;
some who had called in the ordinary course of business, others who had
come to offer condolences, and so on. Their being brought straight to
him showed a frank acceptance on Andrews' part of the fact that he was
to be acting head of the firm; none the less, therefore, he was
careful that Andrews was present at each of the interviews, referring
certain matters to him with a little air of deference which won, as it
was intended to win, the managing man's heart. The customers were
favourably impressed, agreeing, as they went out, that Graham
Patterson's mantle had descended on to capable shoulders.
"I shouldn't wonder," declared Mr. Brailson North as he shook hands
with Mr. Andrews at the outer door, "if he turns out to be every bit
as good a man as his uncle."
This, coming from a member of one of the largest firms in the City,
was praise indeed. The managing man's eyes glistened. Anything which
suggested a compliment to the business, so wrapped up in it was his
whole existence, was a compliment to him. Since yesterday his ideas on
the subject of Mr. Elmore had changed.
"Mr. North," he addressed the visitor in a confidential whisper, "Mr.
Patterson was a good man, an excellent man of business in his way,
sound and discreet; but between you, me, and this doorpost, I
shouldn't wonder if the young one was better, with all his uncle's
soundness and discretion, together with something that his uncle
hadn't got. He's surprised me! You mark my words, I shouldn't be
surprised if the house of Graham Patterson--there's going to be no
alteration in the title--takes its place among the greatest City
houses--mind you, in the front rank."
Mr. North laughed.
"There's no reason why your prophecy shouldn't come true. This is the
day of the young man. Your young man has evidently got a head on his
shoulders; he's a good foundation to build on. If he has grit,
steadiness, caution, and knows just what sort of structure he would
raise on it, there's no reason that I know of why he shouldn't build
anything he likes. I agree with you in thinking that it is possible
that the house of Graham Patterson is destined to be, in all respects,
one of the finest in the City of London."
While these things were being said in his praise Rodney Elmore was
writing to Miss Patterson. He enclosed for her inspection the marriage
licence he had bought, asked in what church she would like the
ceremony to take place on Monday, and added that he hoped to be able
to make all final detailed arrangements with her to-morrow after the
funeral. He told her of the difficulty which had arisen about getting
money, asked her to meet him at the bank in the morning at 11.30;
hoped that afterwards they might lunch together, pointing out that he
never had lunched with her yet. Since after to-morrow he looked
forward to being able to spend most of his time with her till Monday,
and then for ever and a day--and that wouldn't seem a day too
long!--he said that he felt that it would be better to devote the
evening to doing certain little things of his own, which, sooner or
later, would have to be done. By doing them he would clear the decks
for action, so that, when the time for action came, he would be able
to devote the whole of his time and, indeed, the whole of his life
to her. All of which meant that he would not be able to tell her,
except on paper, that he loved her till they met at the bank
to-morrow morning.
Before actually slipping it into the envelope, together with this
edifying epistle, he read the marriage licence carefully through. The
perusal started him on what, for him, was an unwonted train of
thought. Already, while still in the first flush of youth, he had
spoilt his life, brought it to final wreck and ruin. What an extremely
silly thing to have done! It was characteristic of this young
gentleman that he never could bring himself to look at anything
through serious eyes--even death. Whatever his first impulse might be,
his second was to smile. Life, with all that appertained thereto, was
such a funny thing. Here was he, with a career on either hand, each of
which would lead at least to fortune; yet he might have neither. That
did seem droll. Each was represented by a woman; personally he would
have preferred that which was represented by Gladys, if only because
he had no doubt that ere long he would be master not only of the
business but of her. He was not so sure of Stella. In her he suspected
an obstinate streak which he feared might be congenital. He had always
felt that the Austins were, as the head of the house had put it,
"stocky." He would find them more inclined to manage than to be
managed. One thing he did know of himself: that he never could be
managed. He might not put up an open fight--open fighting was not
precisely in his line--but, if a sustained attempt were made to manage
him, he would slip away--somehow, that was sure. Therefore, if only
for the sake of peace and quietude, it would be better to avoid the
risk. All the same, there was something about Stella which did appeal
to him. With a sudden smile, slipping the licence and the letter into
the envelope, he closed the flap.
Then, with pen in hand, as he was about to write the address, he
started again to think. It was women--girls--who had brought him to
his present pass, that was how he put it to himself. What Mabel Joyce
said was perfectly true: he could not be alone with a girl without
making love to her. It was a physical impossibility; he did not know
why, but it was. The mischief was that his instinct had not warned him
they were dangerous, hence his horrid situation. Indeed, it was hard
that they should be dangerous; they were so pleasant to make love to.
There were men who cared nothing for women, who went through life
without making love--real love!--to a single one. How they managed he
could not think. To him life under such conditions would not be worth
living. He was a Sybarite. Life meant to him its good things; were
there better things than women? He doubted it. He thought little of
men; he had a very high opinion of women; he doubted if he had ever
met one in whom there was not something to be desired.
Take Mabel Joyce. She was showing him a side of her character whose
existence he had not suspected. Yet he understood her, quite believed
her when she said that she was fighting for her life. No one could
have been sweeter to him than she had been; then she was such a pretty
little thing, from the tips of her little pink toes to the top of her
fluffy little head. It could hardly be set down to her as a fault if
she was sweet no longer. Let him be just! Then there was Gladys, a
girl of quite a different type; but that was the charm about women,
there were so many types. He was persuaded that they would have the
best possible time together, if the fates could only manage to be
kind. He would make her a model husband, he really would; he rather
wondered what it would feel like to be a husband, but he did not doubt
that it would be all right. A little cramped, perhaps; but he would
study her, and her interests, in every possible way. She should never
regret the father she had lost, who was precious little loss after
all. He would be better to her than a father; he should rather think
so! Then there was Mary Carmichael; but at the thought of Mary
Carmichael his pulses began to dance--that any man should be ass
enough to care nothing for women when there was Mary Carmichael! Also,
let him not forget little Stella--why, what an idiot he was; she was
waiting for him now! He glanced at his watch. Great Scott! how the
time had flown! And that poor child was longingly waiting for him to
put his arms about her and stifle her with kisses. That he should be
brute enough to let her wait!
He addressed the envelope, rang the bell, bade the lad who answered
take it at once to Russell Square, took his hat off its peg, and,
after a few hurried words to Andrews as he went out, started off for
Kensington.