Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books
Transcriber's Notes:
1. Page scan source:
http://books.google.com/books?id=WO0BAAAAQAAJ&dq
2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].
_At every Library_.
LUCREZIA.
_A STORY_.
By MRS. COMYNS CARR,
_Author of_ "_North Italian Folk_," "_A Story of
Autumn_," _&c_.
* * * * *
1 Vol. 10s. 6d.
* * * * *
REMINGTON & CO., 134, New Bond St., W.
_Of all Booksellers_.
PARTNERS.
A Novel.
BY
E. WERNER.
AUTHOR OF "SUCCESS AND HOW HE WON IT," "UNDER A CHARM,"
"RIVEN BONDS," "NO SURRENDER," &c., &c.
* * * * *
_TRANSLATED BY H. G. GODWIN_.
* * * * *
London:
REMINGTON AND CO.,
New Bond Street, W.
* * *
1882.
[_All Rights Reserved_.]
PARTNERS.
CHAPTER I.
It was afternoon on a sunny spring day. The profound Sabbath rest and
stillness which found no place in the incessant turmoil of the great
commercial seaport reigned the more undisturbed around a country house
which lay beyond the great sea of buildings near the shore, and whose
park-like grounds stretched down to the water. It was one of those
imposing, elegantly and luxuriously appointed villas which rich
townspeople usually inhabit when they wish to live secure from street
noises and confusion, and yet would be able to reach the town without
great loss of time. In the drawing-room, whose French windows opened
upon the garden terrace, were a lady and gentleman engaged in an eager
and obviously earnest conversation. The cheeks of the young lady glowed
in hot excitement, and she struggled visibly with hardly repressed
tears, while the gentleman appeared perfectly indifferent and unmoved.
He was a man of middle age, but with already completely grey hair, and
grave, cold features; his whole appearance betokened the business man.
The calm and cool indifference of his manner was not lost for a moment
in the most exciting conversation, and even his mode of speaking was
dry and businesslike, without a trace of any warmer feeling.
"Really, Jessie," said he, "I am weary of this constant repetition of
the old lamentations. As your guardian and relative I have undertaken
the care of your future, and I should have thought the future which I
lay before you acceptable enough. But such a silly, romantic, girlish
head will never be able to judge what is for its own happiness."
The silly, romantic, girlish head was at least not deficient in grace.
Without being regularly beautiful, the fair head, the delicate, but
very expressive features, and the rather languishing blue eyes, had
something uncommonly attractive.
At this moment, however, the youthful countenance bore the expression
of passionate excitement, and the same excitement trembled in her voice
when she replied--
"My happiness! What you call by that name, Uncle Sandow, lies
immeasurably far from what is happiness to me."
"Will you, perhaps, tell me what misty and fantastic idea you connect
with the word?" said Sandow, in a sarcastic tone. "Happiness is a
brilliant position in life, in the midst of wealth, at the side of a
husband who, under all circumstances, can be a support to you. That is
offered to you with the hand of a man"--
"Whom I don't even know," interrupted Jessie.
"But whose acquaintance you will make within an hour. Besides, my
brother is no stranger to you, even if you have not yet actually seen
him. According to his portrait, his exterior leaves nothing to be
wished for, and you have declared that no other inclination binds you.
Why, then, this obstinate struggle against a union for which Gustave is
already prepared?"
"Just because he was so quickly prepared for it. I cannot--I will not
confide my future to a man who does not for a moment hesitate to give
up his chosen calling, his already brilliant career, because the
prospect of a wealthy match is held out to him."
Sandow shrugged his shoulders.
"There again are the exaggerated ideas with which your German education
has imbued you, and without which you were quite sentimental enough.
Chosen calling! Brilliant career! You seem to have a very exalted idea
of the position of a German journalist. Gustave's pen is admired and
sought for so long as the whim of the public and the present political
tendency last. Sooner or later that will come to an end, and then
good-bye to his brilliant career. Here in America independence, riches,
and the coveted post of head of a great commercial house, are offered
to him. He would be worse than a fool to throw that up in order to
continue to write leading articles."
"That is a matter of taste, and I assure you, Uncle Sandow, it would be
quite immaterial to me whom you might choose as a partner if you would
not draw me within the circle of your business calculations."
"I do it in your own interest. You know it was the dearest wish of your
late father to keep your fortune in the business. He ever hoped that
his place there would be filled by his son-in-law. It was not granted
to him to see this himself."
"No," said Jessie, softly, "for he never had the heart to force me as
you do now."
Sandow made an impatient movement.
"What exaggerated expressions are these! I do not think of forcing you,
but I require with the greatest decision that you should listen to
reason, and not cast aside the idea of this union without farther
consideration, merely because it does not agree with your romantic
ideas. You are nineteen, and must now think of marriage. Ideal
marriages, such as you dream of, do not exist. To every one who woos
you your fortune is the great attraction. The days of disinterested
love are long past, and when one or another plays such a comedy with
you it is only more surely to squander your money afterwards. It is
important that you should make that perfectly clear to yourself, or the
inevitable disappointments may be too hard for you."
An incredible heartlessness lay in the icy calm with which he reckoned
all this up in the ears of his ward, and reduced the step on which
depended all the dreams, illusions, all the future hopes of the young
girl, to a flavourless calculation, of which the factor was her
fortune.
Jessie's lip trembled painfully at this merciless exposition, for the
air of infallibility with which it was pronounced showed her that
Sandow really expressed his inmost convictions. Had she not already
learnt what it meant to be a good match, and to thus enchain the
selfishness and calculations of every man with whom she came in
contact? Even her guardian saw and respected in her only the heiress, a
bitter thought for a young creature whose heart longed passionately for
happiness and love.
"Here you need not fear this," continued Sandow, who looked on her
silence as a kind of assent. "This marriage offers you both similar
advantages. With your hand Gustave receives a fortune and a high
position in the commercial world here; through him you retain an
interest in your father's business, and have the certainty that your
wealth will be controlled and increased by your husband. The thing is
so clear and simple that I cannot really comprehend your obstinate
resistance, particularly as you have interested yourself formerly about
Gustave, and you have always read his articles with the greatest
enthusiasm."
"Because I believed in the writer of them; because I did not imagine it
possible that all this glowing love of country, all this enthusiasm for
the great and beautiful, could be only phrases to be cast to the winds
as soon as it appeared advantageous to do so."
"These knights of the quill are accustomed to fine expressions," said
Sandow slightingly. "It is a business matter. It would be hard upon
them if they must match word and deed. Gustave has written as his
situation and the tendency of the day demanded, and now he acts as
reason requires. If he did not he would be useless to me as a partner.
And now let us end the discussion. I do not urge you to decide either
to-day or to-morrow, but await nevertheless with certainty your assent
to my wishes."
"Never!" cried Jessie, flaming out. "To belong to a man who sees in me
merely a paragraph in a business contract; to an egoist who sacrifices
to his material gain all that is holy and dear to others! Never!
Never!"
Sandow took little or no notice of this passionate outburst. If Jessie
had been his daughter he would have simply commanded and forced her to
follow his wishes, but he knew too well the limits of his power as
guardian to attempt anything of the kind here. He knew besides that his
long-accustomed and dreaded authority was of itself a kind of
compulsion to the girl, and was determined to employ it.
"We will leave the subject now," said he, rising. "I am going to the
station, and expect in an hour to present my brother to you. You will
condescend in the first place to learn to know him, and everything else
will follow in time. Good-bye."
With this he left the room, and the carriage, which had been waiting
for him, rolled from the door.
Jessie remained alone, and now, when she felt herself no longer under
the ban of those cold, hard eyes, the long-repressed tears burst forth.
The girl plainly did not belong to those energetic natures which set
will against will. In these tears she betrayed all the weakness of a
character accustomed to be directed and led, and which, in the first
struggle to which it must arm itself, feels its own impotence.
It was, indeed, the first struggle of her life. Reared in the happiest
circumstances, sheltered by the love of the tenderest parents, pain had
first approached her when her mother died, and two years after her
father followed his wife to the grave. In his will, Sandow, the friend
and partner of many years, was named guardian of the orphan girl, and
her pecuniary interests could have been placed in no better hands.
But Jessie had never succeeded in forming a real attachment to her
uncle, though she had known him from her childhood. He was a near
relation of her mother's, and like her a native of Germany. More than
twelve years before he had come almost destitute to America, and had
sought and found a situation in her father's business. They said
misfortunes and bitter experiences had driven him from Europe. What
these really had been Jessie could never learn, for even her parents
seemed only partially informed on the subject, and Sandow himself never
alluded to it.
In the beginning he had been placed in a subordinate position in the
office merely out of consideration for him as a connection, but he soon
developed such a restless activity, such prudence and energy, that he
speedily won for himself a place second only to the chief himself, and
when a threatened business crisis was turned aside only through his
timely and energetic action, he was promoted to a share in the concern,
which under his guidance soon made quite a new departure. A succession
of bold and fortunate speculations raised the, till then, modest firm
to the position of the first in the town, and the new chief managed to
employ so successfully the weight which this good-fortune gave him that
he became almost sole ruler, and at all events possessed the first and
decisive voice in any question of importance.
In this way Sandow had become in a comparatively short time a wealthy
man. As he was alone, he resided as before in the house of his
relations, but in spite of this domestic intercourse of many years'
duration, and in spite also of the community of interests, he had never
become really united with them. His cold, harsh manner closed the way
to any nearer approach; he recognised nothing but business interests
and incessant labour, and never sought rest or relaxation in the family
circle; indeed, these were things which for him appeared to have no
existence.
Jessie's father made no opposition to his partner taking the greater
portion of the work and anxiety off his own shoulders, being himself
more inclined to social enjoyment, to an easy family life. Since he met
Sandow's wishes on this point the relations between the two men had
always been most harmonious, though they may have arisen in the first
place more out of mutual necessity than real friendship.
Now the management of the young heiress's possessions lay in Sandow's
hands alone, and he soon extended his rights so far as to wish to
control also her future. With the same inconsiderate selfishness which
all his undertakings displayed, he wove the plan of a marriage between
his ward and his brother, and was as much surprised as displeased when
his scheme, which was unconditionally accepted on the one side, found
decided opposition on the other. However, he paid little attention to
this opposition, and was firmly convinced that the girl, who till now
had shown neither strength nor inclination for independent action,
would also, in this respect, follow his wishes.
The hour destined for the journey to and from the station had nearly
elapsed when the carriage again drew up at the door, and immediately
after the two gentlemen appeared in the drawing-room where Jessie still
sat.
Sandow did not appear in the least agitated at again meeting his
brother after a separation of so many years. His manner was as unmoved,
his tone as cool as usual, as he presented Mr. Gustave Sandow to Miss
Jessie Clifford. The new arrival approached the young lady with a
polite bow.
"May I also reckon on a friendly reception from you, Miss Clifford? I
come as a stranger indeed, but I bring you a greeting from the land
which was your mother's. Let this be my introduction to you."
That sounded not only kindly, but friendly, almost warm. Jessie looked
up with surprise, but the searching, piercing look which met hers
chilled her again directly, for it recalled to her the cause of their
acquaintance. She replied with cool civility--
"I hope you had a pleasant voyage, Mr. Sandow."
"Remarkably so. We had the calmest sea, the most agreeable passage, and
also during my land journey the weather has been most delightful."
"That is why you have protracted it so long, I suppose," said Sandow,
joining in the conversation. "You have wandered about the country in
every direction like a tourist. We expected you a fortnight ago."
"Well, one ought to learn to know the country and the people," rejoined
Gustave. "Did you wish me to come direct here?"
"Not exactly. I quite understand your staying in the large towns. It is
always an advantage to be personally acquainted with one's commercial
correspondents. Unfortunately I have no time for it, but I certainly
provided you with plenty of letters of introduction. What is it--a
telegram?"
The last words were addressed to a servant who had entered behind the
two gentlemen, and who now offered him a telegram which had just
arrived.
While Gustave and Miss Clifford exchanged the first general remarks,
the elder brother opened the telegram, glanced over it, and then,
turning to the other two, said--
"I must leave you for half an hour; a matter of business which demands
immediate attention."
"To-day! Sunday?" asked Gustave. "Do you, then, never allow yourself a
moment's rest?"
"Why should I? Something might then be neglected. On Sunday, when the
offices are closed, I have the most pressing business sent out here.
You looked up Jenkins and Co. in New York, Gustave? The telegram comes
from them. I shall speak about it to you later. Meanwhile, I leave you
in Jessie's company; so good-bye."
He folded the telegram together and went.