"Well, my dear," said Gartram, as Claude entered the room; "want to see
me?"
"Yes, papa; you sent for me."
"I sent for you? Oh, to be sure; I forgot."
He was seated in an easy-chair, leaning back as if half-asleep, and he
raised himself slowly as Claude came to his side.
She looked at him keenly, and felt a curious sensation of sinking and
dread, as it struck her that her father was suffering from the effects
of the sedative in which he indulged.
"Well," he said smiling, "what are you looking at?"
"At you, dear; are you well?"
"Never better, my dear. Sit down; I want to talk to you."
Claude shrank inwardly as she took a chair, but he was not satisfied.
"Come a little nearer, my dear."
She obeyed, and the shrinking sensation increased as she felt that there
was only one subject upon which her father was likely to speak.
"That's better," he said, taking her hand. "Mr Glyddyr has been here
this morning?"
"No, father."
"Ha!" he exclaimed rather sharply. "Now, I don't quite like the tone in
which you said that `No, father,' my dear; and I think it is quite time
that you and I came to an understanding. Claude, my dear, you have been
thinking a good deal lately about what young people of your age do think
of a great deal--I mean marriage."
"Oh, no, papa," said Claude emphatically.
"Don't contradict, my dear. I am not blind, and it is perfectly natural
that you should think of such a thing now."
Claude was silent.
"You and Christopher Lisle were a good deal thrown together."
Claude's cheek began to deepen in colour.
"You were boy and girl together, and if not brother and sister in your
intimacy, at least like cousins."
"Yes, papa."
"Well, presuming upon that, Master Christopher must suddenly forget he
was a boy, and came to me with the most impudent proposals."
"Papa!"
"There, I am not going to say any more about him, only I have taken that
as a preface to what will follow."
Claude drew a deep, long sigh.
"Now, of course, that was all boyish folly, and I bitterly regret that
we should have had such a scene here; but the natural course of events
was, that I should think very seriously of your future settlement in
life."
"I am settled in life, father," said Claude firmly. "I do not intend to
leave you."
"Thank you, my darling. Very good and filial of you," said Gartram,
taking and holding her hand. "One moment, the room is very warm; I'll
open the window."
"Let me open it, dear," said Claude; and she went and threw open the
French window, returning directly to sit down, her countenance growing a
little hard.
"Now, then, child, we may as well understand each other at once."
"Yes, papa, if you wish it."
"Well, my darling, I began life as a very poor man. I had a good name,
but I was a pauper."
"Not so bad as that, papa?"
"Worse. The worst kind of pauper--a gentleman without an income, and
with no means of making one. But there, you know what I have done; and
I can say now that, thanks to my determined industry, I have honourably
made a great fortune. Well, you don't look pleased."
"No, dear; I often think you would have been happier without the money."
"Silly child! You have had your every wish gratified, and do not know
the value of a fortune. Some day you will. Well, my dear, I am growing
old."
"No, not yet."
"Yes, yes, my dear, I am; and my health is getting completely wrecked."
"Then let's go away and travel."
"No; I have another project on hand, Claude. It has long been my wish
to see you married."
"Papa!"
"To some good man who loves you."
"Oh!"
"A man of wealth and some position in the world, and that man I believe
I have found in Parry Glyddyr."
"Papa, I--"
"Hush, my dear, let me speak; you shall have your turn. Glyddyr is the
representative of a good old Welsh family. He had three hundred
thousand pounds at his father's death, and, best of all, he loves my
darling child very dearly. Now, what do you say to that?"
"I do not love Mr Glyddyr," replied Claude coldly.
"Tut, tut, tut. Nonsense, my dear, not yet. It is the man who loves
first; that makes an impression upon the woman, who, as soon as she
feels the influence of the man's affection, begins to love him in
return. A man's love begins like a flash; a woman's is a slow growth.
That is nature, my dear, and you cannot improve upon her."
"Papa, I--"
"Now, don't be hasty, my child. Glyddyr is a very good fellow--a
thorough gentleman. I like him, he loves you, and if you will only put
aside all that boy and girl nonsense of the past, you will soon like him
too--more than you can conceive. But, as he reasonably enough says, you
don't give him a chance."
"Did Mr Glyddyr say that?" said Claude, with her lip curling.
"Yes; and really, Claude, you are sometimes almost rude to him with your
coldness. Come, my dear, I want you to see that it is the dearest wish
of my life to have you happy."
"Yes, papa dear, I know it is, but--"
"Now, let's have no buts. I favour Glyddyr's suit because he is all one
could desire, and he came to me like a frank gentleman and told me how
he saw you first and took a fancy to you, but thought he should forget
it all; then felt his love grow stronger, and, as he has shown us--he
has waited months and months to prove himself--felt that you were the
woman who would make him happy and--"
"I could not make Mr Glyddyr happy, papa."
"Nonsense, dear! What do you know of such things? I say you can, and
that he can make you very happy and me, too, in seeing you married
well."
"Papa, dear, I don't think you quite understand a woman's heart," said
Claude.
"I understand a girl's, my dear--yours in particular--so now I want you
to set aside some of this stiff formality, and to meet Glyddyr in a more
friendly way. Of course I don't want you to throw yourself at his head.
You are an extremely wealthy heiress. I've made my money for you, my
pet, and you can afford to be proud, and to hold him off. Make him know
your value, and woo and win you, but, hang it all, my child, don't turn
yourself into an icicle, and freeze the poor fellow's passion solid."
"Papa, dear, you said I should speak soon."
"And so you shall, my darling; but I have not quite done. I want you to
think all this over, and to look at it as a duty first, then as a matter
of affection. Oh, it's all right, my pet. I'm glad to see so much
maiden modesty and dutiful behaviour. I didn't want him to think he had
only to hold out his hand for you to jump at it; certainly not. You are
a prize worth winning, and you are quite right to teach him your value,
you clever little jade. There, I think I've nearly done. Only begin to
melt a little now, and give the poor fellow a bit of encouragement. And
you must not be piqued at his saying you were so distant. I drew that
out of him. He did not come to complain, though I must say he had good
cause. There, now, I have quite done, and I am sure my darling sees the
common sense of all this. I don't want to lose my Claudie, and I
shouldn't at all dislike a trip on the Continent with her. There's no
hurry--a year--two, if you like. I'll let my pet make her own terms,
only let's give the poor fellow a chance. Then I may tell Glyddyr?"
"No, father dear," said Claude firmly; "you must not tell Mr Glyddyr
anything."
"What?"
"He is a man I do not like."
Gartram's countenance changed a little, but he kept down his anger.
"Not yet, my dear, not yet, of course. It is not natural that you
should, but you will in time, and the more for feeling a bit diffident
now. Come, we understand one another, and I won't say a word to the
poor boy. You will let him feel that the winter is passing, the thaw
beginning. Give him a little spring first, and the summer in full swing
by-and-by."
Claude shook her head.
"It is impossible, papa, dear. I could never like Mr Glyddyr."
"Now, my dear child, don't make me angry by adopting that obstinate
tone. You are too young yet to understand your own mind."
"I know I could never love Mr Glyddyr sufficiently to be his wife."
"Now, look here--"
"Don't be angry with me, dear. You wish me to be always frank and plain
with you?"
"Of course, but--"
"I must know about a matter like this. I do not and cannot love this
man."
"Absurd, Claude."
"I don't want to marry. Let me stay here with you. I can be very happy
amongst the people I know, and who know me, and require my help."
"Yes; a gang of impostors sucking my money through you."
"No, no. What I give is to make you loved and venerated by the poor
people who are sometimes in distress."
"Now I don't want a lecture on the relief of the poor, my dear," said
Gartram quickly. "I want you to quietly accept my wishes. I am your
father, and I know what is for your good."
Claude was silent, for she knew by familiar signs that the tempest was
about to burst.
"Do you think I wish you to marry some penniless scoundrel, who wants to
get my money to make ducks and drakes with it? There: I was getting
cross, but I am not going to be. Once more, there is no hurry. Thaw by
degrees. It will prove Glyddyr to you, and let you see that the poor
fellow is thoroughly sincere. Come, my pet, we understand each other
now? Hang it all, Claude, don't look at me like that!"
"My dearest father," she cried, after a moment's hesitation, and she
threw herself upon his breast and nestled to him, "are you not making a
mistake?"
"No; I am too much of a business man, my dear. I am not making a
mistake, unless it is in being too easy with you, and pleading when I
might command. There, I'm glad you agree with me."
"No, no, papa; I cannot," she said tearfully.
"Now, Claude, my darling, don't make me angry. You know what my health
is, and how, if I am crossed, it irritates me. You are my obedient
child, and you agree with what I say?"
"No, papa," she said imploringly; "I cannot."
"Then you are thinking still of that beggarly, fortune-hunting scoundrel
Lisle?"
"Father, dear, don't speak like that of Christopher Lisle. He is a true
gentleman."
"He is a true money-seeking vagabond, and I have forbidden him my house
for the best of reasons. I would sooner see you dead than the wife of a
man like that."
Claude shrank away from him, and her convulsed face hardened, with the
faint resemblance to her father beginning to appear.
"You are unjust to him."
"It is false, madam," he cried excitedly, with his brow beginning to
grow knotty. "I know the scoundrel by heart, and as you are refusing to
meet me on the terms full of gentleness and love which I propose, you
must be prepared for firmness. Now, please understand. It is the
dearest wish of my heart that you should marry Parry Glyddyr. I like
him; he is the man I wish to have for my son-in-law; and he loves you.
Those are strong enough points for me, and I'll have no opposition."
"Father!"
"Silence! I will not hurry matters, but you may look upon this as a
thing which is definitely settled. Glyddyr is coming here this morning,
as I told you before. I shall tell him that we have come to an
understanding, and that he may consider himself as accepted, with a long
probation to go through. There, you see, I am quite calm, for I make
that concession to you--plenty of time."
"Father, dear, listen to me," cried Claude passionately.
"No! I'll listen to no more. You can go now and think. You will come
to your senses by-and-by, I have no doubt, even if it takes time."
Claude caught his hand in hers, but he withdrew his own with an angry
gesture, and she shrank back for a moment. There was that, though, in
his face which made her hesitate about saying more, and reaching up, and
kissing him hurriedly, she left the room, thinking that he would calm
down.
He stood watching her as she left, and then, grinding his teeth with
rage, his face flushing and his temples beating hard, he strode across
to the door, locked it securely, and drew a curtain across.
"The scoundrel! He has poisoned her mind. But I'd sooner kill him--I'd
sooner--Oh, it's maddening," he cried, as he went to a drawer, fumbled
with the key on a bunch he drew from his pocket, and had some difficulty
in opening it, for his hand trembled with suppressed passion.
Then he drew open the receptacle, and from the back took out a ring with
three curiously formed keys. These clinked together with the
involuntary movements of his hands as he crossed to a bookcase, took out
a couple of books, opened a little door behind them, and thrust another
key in at the side. There was a sharp click, and he started back,
withdrawing the key, and stood and gave his head a shake as if to clear
it.
"How I do hate to be put out like this," he muttered, as he laid his
hand in a particular way upon the end of the bookcase, which slowly
revolved on a pivot, and laid bare a large iron door.
"I don't feel at all myself," he continued, as he used the third and
largest key, which opened the great door of his safe, and exposed a
massive-looking closet built in the wall with blocks of granite, at the
back of which were half-a-dozen iron shelves.
"Hah!" he exclaimed, as he stood in the opening, reaching forward and
taking down a small square box, which was heavy. "He'd like to have the
pleasure of spending you, no doubt, but I can checkmate him. Now," he
continued, "let's finish counting."
He carried the box to the table, set it down, and then took out, one by
one, five canvas bags, one of which he untied, and poured out a little
heap of sovereigns. This done, he went back to the safe and took a
small, thick ledger from another shelf, walked back to the table, opened
the book, and made an entry of the date therein, then, leaving the pen
in the opening, seated himself once again to count the coins into little
piles of twenty-five.
"No," he murmured; "I haven't worked all these years to have my money
swallowed up by a fortune-hunter. No, Master Chris Lisle."
He started from his seat, overturning a pile of sovereigns, for at that
moment, sweet and clear, came the song of a robin seated upon a tamarisk
just outside the window.
"Good heavens! I must be mad," he cried. "Who opened that window?
Yes; Claude, I remember," he muttered; and he was in the act of crossing
to close it when he stopped short, threw out his hands, and fell with a
heavy thud upon the thick Turkey carpet, to lie there with his face
distorted, struggling violently, and striking his hands against a chair.
Volume Two, Chapter II.