FOR VALUE RECEIVED.
The strange tone of her voice was remarked by Atkins. "What has
occurred between you and Henry? He, too, was out of humor. Have you had
a quarrel?"
"Yes," said Jane with sullen frankness, "I offended him."
"And he?"
"He?" The young girl's lips curled in scorn. "Well, he bore it."
Atkins frowned. "Have a care, Jane!--Alison is not the man to forgive
an insult, least of all from you. He may have borne it for the moment,
but he will never forget it, and you may have to atone for it at some
future day. I know him!"
"And so do I! Have no anxiety, Mr. Atkins, I do not fear this sort of
revenge, neither do I care for it!"
"Avoid that tone, Miss Jane, at least in speaking of him. You might
drive him to break his troth."
"Hardly! Mr. Alison too well knows my value to him."
Atkins shook his head. He had never before seen his ward thus. "You
know as well as I, that Alison loves you in spite of all, and would
have loved you without your fortune," he said.
"And would have chosen me?"
He was silent.
"Spare your championship!" said Jane bitterly. "I know to what
considerations I shall alone owe the honor of one day being called Mrs.
Alison!"
Atkins fixed his keen glance upon her for a moment. "And is this
anything new to you?" he asked deliberately. "Did you not know this
just as well as now when, five months ago you promised him your hand?
and this promise which the heir and future head of the house of Alison
and Company then received"--he laid a marked emphasis upon the
words--"would it have been given him if he had, for example, held there
the modest position of clerk?"
The thrust took effect, for a moment, as if conscious of guilt, Jane
lowered her head; the words with which she had announced her betrothal
to her father came back to her remembrance. At that time all this had
appeared simple and natural; now, indeed, five months had come and
gone, five months and--three days!
"You see," continued Atkins cuttingly and relentlessly, "that the
dollar also played its role with you, and why not? Mr. Forest educated
you into sensible conceptions of life and its realities. Love is a
luxury,--which the rich only can allow themselves--and Alison allowed
it in his choice. But one must not fall so deeply in love as to forget
one's reckoning, which is still the main thing in life."
"In America--yes!" said Jane in a hollow voice.
Atkins shrugged his shoulders. "In Germany there certainly may be
extravagantly sentimental heads, that would have no regard at all for a
million, and are in a position to unhesitatingly turn their backs to an
heiress, if they happen to be not quite pleased with her. Will you
reproach Mr. Alison, because he knows better how to estimate such
advantages? Those gentlemen in their exalted manly pride may appear
very magnanimous, but--they will never become millionaires."
"You are right," said Jane hastily, and in a voice of icy coldness.
"_To every one his own_."
Atkins gazed at her as if he did not really know what the answer meant.
She had again become thoroughly Miss Forest in her impenetrable repose,
as she now stood before him, and yet, there had been a tone of irony in
her words. But it was a useless endeavor to seek to solve the enigma
to-day; he gave it up.
Rising at the same time, he took a letter-case from his pocket and
reached it to her. "We have arrived at the main thing," he said. "Here
you find the letter I have mentioned, and all the other notices;
examine them critically. This evening I will consult farther with you;
now, I must leave you."
Jane reached him her hand. "I thank you!" she said, "And as for my
ill-humor to-day"--the apology seemed difficult to her, but she must
have felt its necessity--"think nothing more about it. There are moods
we cannot control. I shall see you again."
When Atkins was outside the door, he paused, and once more shook his
head. "There are moods, ahem! This is wonderful. Henry has
presentiments and she moods!--Things they had better let alone, both of
them. But he is right; she is changed; and if I were to begin to
surmise, then I should say"--here Mr. Atkins hurled a very ungracious
glance over to the watery mirror of the river glittering in the sun,
and which was visible between the trees of the garden--"I should say
there lies a sort of premonition here in this German atmosphere, and
that this accursed Rhine, before we think of it, will be letting loose
something of a tempest about our heads!"