The house of Clifford, as already hinted, was one of the most important
in the town. The numerous staff of clerks and attendants, and the
constant activity which reigned there, betrayed even to a stranger the
importance of the great mercantile house, whose head, indeed, held a
most conspicuous place in the commercial world. Gustave Sandow, who,
though now holding the modest post of a volunteer, was destined later
to share that dignity, had now entered on his new calling, but showed
so far very little enthusiasm for it. His brother noticed with great
displeasure that he looked on the whole thing as a kind of
entertainment with which he amused himself, and of which the chief
attraction was its novelty. He allowed little indeed to be seen of the
austere dignity of the future partner, while he made extensive use of
his freedom as a volunteer. The various objects of interest in the
town, its environs, its society, seemed far more attractive to him than
his brother's office. The latter remarked on it in his usual sharp
manner, and requested that more interest might be shown in business
matters.
Gustave acknowledged in every respect the justice of his brother's
observations, but continued as regularly to do what pleased him best,
and offered to all reproaches the declaration that at present he was
only a guest, and must be allowed to make himself at home in his new
surroundings.
Between himself and Miss Clifford had arisen a curious, half
antagonistic, half confidential relation. On the whole they were always
prepared for war, and Jessie did her best to maintain that state of
affairs. But it was difficult enough, for her adversary displayed such
unwearying politeness and amiability as left her few occasions for the
contrary. The certainly not very flattering estimate of his character
which had been forced upon him in the very first hour of their
acquaintanceship had obviously affected him very little. On his side he
was full of attentions, with which he managed to mingle very adroitly
the friendly confidence of a household companion, and Jessie saw with
horror the courtship from which she had considered herself entirely
free deliberately unfolded before her.
It was morning, about a week after the arrival of the new acquaintance.
Breakfast was just over. Gustave was giving Miss Clifford a sketch of
some of his travelling experiences, which he did with such sparkling
animation and such vivid colouring as enchained Jessie's attention
against her will.
Sandow, on the other hand, was occupied in looking for some business
papers in his pocket-book, and listened only with half an ear.
When his brother had finished, he said satirically--
"One would really believe that you had undertaken the journey merely to
find materials for some future article on the political or artistic
views entertained here. Landscape, architecture, national life, you
have lost no opportunities of studying, but the business you should
have made the main interest is scarcely alluded to. You certainly went
everywhere that my introductions would take you, but seem only to have
dined with the firms and talked about politics afterwards."
"You surely did not expect us to take our business to table with us!"
cried Gustave. "That is a pleasure which only you provide for your
guests. I believe you would hail it as a most blessed discovery if
eating and sleeping could be dispensed with altogether. What an
incalculable gain in hours of business for much-tormented mankind!"
Jessie cast a half terrified glance at her guardian. She knew that this
was a very tender point with him. Gustave knew it too, yet every day he
ventured on such remarks to his face. He understood most perfectly how
to parry the masterful and sometimes offensive manner of his brother,
so that he never allowed himself to appear corrected or in any way
subordinate.
Sandow, whose strength did not lie in repartee, generally quitted the
field when he began in that tone of mockery. So he now rose, and,
closing his pocket-book, sarcastically replied--
"Well, you certainly do not belong to the much-tormented class; you
take your life easily enough. But I want to speak to you for a few
minutes in my room before we go to the office. It concerns the New York
affair."
"I will come immediately," returned his brother, who, however, remained
calmly seated while the other left the room, and then, turning to
Jessie, asked--
"Have you ever seen such a business maniac as my brother, Miss
Clifford? At breakfast he makes business notes, at dinner he reads the
money article, and I am convinced that he speculates in his dreams."
"Yes, he possesses a most untiring activity," replied Jessie, "and he
looks for the same thing in other people. You should not keep him
waiting, for I am sure he wants to speak to you particularly."
Gustave paid not the least attention to this broad hint to depart.
"It concerns Jenkins and Co. That agreeable firm actually besieges us
with letters and telegrams respecting a common speculation. I am not at
all in a hurry to talk about it, and my brother is very considerate
when he knows I am with you."
That was unquestionably the case. For various reasons Sandow favoured
in every way the growing intimacy between his brother and his ward, and
even would go so far as to forgive a want of punctuality occasionally.
The hint to this effect was, however, very ungraciously received by the
young lady. She thought best to maintain perfect silence.
"Besides that, I have a great desire to speak to you alone," continued
Gustave. "For several days I have sought an opportunity in vain."
An icy, long-drawn "Indeed!" was the only reply.
So really after an acquaintanceship of scarcely a week, this man dared
to approach her with his proposals, in spite of her distant demeanour,
her plainly shown aversion. In spite of all he would try to complete
the business contract which gave him the hand of the rich heiress, and
still worse, with an easy assurance as if undeniably in the right.
"I have a petition to offer," he began afresh, "a petition which, by
granting you will make me for ever your debtor."
Miss Clifford looked as if carved out of stone, and her manner left no
doubt that she had not the slightest intention of placing him "for ever
in her debt." She summoned all her energies together to meet the
approaching emergency with the necessary decision.
Gustave paid not the least attention to her, and continued with his
usual genial smile--
"It concerns a young countrywoman of mine!"
"A--young countrywoman?" repeated Jessie, astonished to the last degree
at the unexpected turn which the conversation had taken.
"Yes, a young German who came over in the same ship with me. She was
going quite alone to a relative in New York, who had offered the orphan
a home with him. On landing, however, she learnt that he had died a few
days before, and the poor child found herself quite unprotected and
forsaken in the New World."
"You took charge of her," remarked Jessie, with a certain sharpness.
"Certainly; I took her to a German family, where she could be received
for a few days. But she cannot stay there long, and it must be a very
difficult thing for a girl of scarcely sixteen, and without an
introduction, to find a situation as governess or companion. Here in
this town it might be more feasible, especially if a well-known house
such as yours undertook to introduce her. My petition is this, will you
receive this young girl for a few weeks as a guest till something may
be found for her?"
Generally Jessie was only too ready to help whenever it lay in her
power, and a countrywoman of her mother's had naturally every claim
upon her sympathy, but the side from which the demand came caused it to
fill her with the darkest suspicions. In her eyes Gustave Sandow was
not the man to help any fellow-creature from pure philanthropy. Such an
egoist must certainly have other motives for his actions, and she
returned a very cautious answer.
"This takes me quite by surprise. I am to receive a total stranger,
who, as you acknowledge, is entirely destitute of introductions?"
"I undertake the responsibility," cried Gustave eagerly. "Any security
you can desire I will give."
"Oh, indeed!"
A light began to dawn upon her. She saw the dreaded offer vanish into
the distance. A way of escape which she had never thought of suddenly
opened before her.
"You seem to know your protegee very thoroughly, Mr. Sandow, and to
take an extraordinary interest in her."
"Certainly I do. Towards an orphan that is the duty of every
Christian."
"I was not aware that you were such a good Christian," said Jessie,
with unconcealed irony.
"Then, Miss Clifford, you have misunderstood me in that as in so many
other respects. Where humanity is concerned my opinions are in the
highest degree Christian," declared Sandow solemnly.
Jessie's lips curled scornfully at the word "humanity," but the thing
began to interest her, so she asked--
"Then you wish for an invitation to our house for"--
"Miss Frida Palm, that is her name."
"I will speak to my guardian about it, and if he is willing"--
"Oh! pray do not; that is just what I am most anxious to avoid,"
interrupted Gustave. "I do not wish my brother to know anything of my
appeal to you. Would it not be possible to give out that Miss Palm is a
protegee of your own, recommended by some New York acquaintance, and
whom you have agreed to receive? The suggestion is rather singular, I
see that in your manner, so I place myself and my petition entirely in
your hands."
Jessie's manner certainly showed how surprised she was. She bent on the
speaker a long, searching look.
"Indeed, a very extraordinary demand. You really ask that we should
literally perform a comedy, in order that you may gain a point with my
guardian! With what object?"
"Certainly with no bad object, even if for the present that must remain
my secret."
"Your secret is not hard to guess, at least for me," said Jessie
sarcastically, but still with a feeling of intense relief at the turn
things had taken. "Only acknowledge openly that your interest in this
young lady is a much deeper and more serious one than appears, and that
you have a decided object to gain in bringing her here."
Apparently overwhelmed, Gustave drooped his head.
"I acknowledge it."
"And for more than one reason you fear that your brother will be
opposed to this interest."
"I allow that too."
"Therefore Miss Palm is to appear unacknowledged in our house, that,
through her personal qualities she may gain sympathy and consideration,
until you may venture to declare the truth."
"Miss Clifford, you have incredible penetration," said Gustave, in the
tone of deepest admiration. "It is quite impossible to hide anything
from you. Now that you have so completely seen through me, may I reckon
on your support?"
The young lady assumed a very dignified manner.
"I have never yet condescended to an untruth, and would never do it
if"--
She stopped, and a passing blush tinged her cheek.
"If it were not for certain plans of my brother's," added Gustave. "You
do not agree with them; that I saw on the day of my arrival. But just
on that account you need not fear that I have any doubt as to the
reasons of your confederacy. They are certainly not flattering to me,
but in this instance decidedly advantageous."
"Advantageous!" echoed Jessie, in a contemptuous tone. "Quite right;
that is sufficient for you. You fear a breach with your brother if you
make a choice without his consent, and, as far as I know him, this
would be the case since your choice has fallen on a poor and friendless
orphan. It is certainly advantageous if you try to gain your end by
circuitous means. But how much more manly it would be to go to your
brother and openly declare your love, bidding defiance to his anger.
But on such points our ideas are quite opposed. Let Miss Palm know that
I shall expect her. She can start immediately on receiving your
letter."
"That is not at all necessary," replied Gustave calmly. "I have already
written to her; she is on her way, and this afternoon will arrive
here."
This was rather too strong for Jessie. She looked at the daring visitor
with disdain.
"So that was already decided. You are very considerate, Mr. Sandow."
"I reckoned on your good heart," he assured her, with a deep bow.
"You reckoned far more on your brother's plans, which have, half
against my will, made me your confederate. So be it then. I will do my
best to afford you the advantage of maintaining a good understanding
with your brother. As soon as your fiancee arrives, bring her to me,
and for the present she shall pass as my protegee."
And, with a very cold and distant bow, Jessie swept from the room.
Gustave looked after her with a very peculiar smile on his lips.
"Every inch contempt! But it suits her splendidly. Certainly I play a
very pitiful part in the story; that, however, is nothing; if Frida can
only make good her footing in the house, that is the point."
In her room Jessie walked about in violent excitement. She was really
rejoiced that the dreaded suitor should in this way prove himself
perfectly harmless, and that he himself lent a hand to the destruction
of the hated marriage scheme; but that did not in the least diminish
her indignation at the selfishness and avarice of the man who had
displayed anew all the meanness of his character. Yet he loved, this
man, and apparently truly and disinterestedly. Just on the way to the
wealthy, unloved bride, whom his brother had so carefully selected for
him, a young, forsaken, unprotected orphan had succeeded in awakening a
real affection in his heart. What hindered him, then, from introducing
his chosen bride to his brother? And if Sandow really showed himself
obstinate and unreasonable, he might then return with her to Germany.
He had occupied an independent position there, which would be
immediately open to him again, and which would permit him to marry
without the consent of his brother. But then his chance of that
brother's wealth would be in jeopardy, and at any price that rich
inheritance must be secured. Therefore the affianced bride must be
content to play the part of a stranger, all kinds of underhand modes of
gaining his end would be attempted, and a regular intrigue set on foot
in order to wheedle the rich brother to consent, and if, in spite of
all, he persisted in a decided refusal--and Jessie knew that her
guardian, who always measured men by the length of their purses, would
never welcome a poor sister-in-law--then, no doubt, the daring champion
of the Ideal would choose the money, and leave the bride in the lurch,
as he had already deserted his profession.
Jessie's frank and open disposition rose in rebellion against the part
forced on her; yet she felt it necessary to forward this union by every
means in her power. She would at any cost avoid a serious struggle with
her guardian. It was to a certain extent an act of necessity if she
agreed to the proposal. Should they really succeed in gaining Sandow's
consent then the threatening storm would pass completely away.
It was remarkable that the one thing in Gustave's favour--his evident
capacity for true love--was also the one thing most obnoxious to
Jessie. She had so bitterly reproached him for yielding so
unresistingly to the business calculations of his brother, and now,
when she learnt that in his heart he had thwarted, and wished entirely
to defeat those plans, she was more prejudiced against him than ever.
She was thoroughly convinced that this man was only worthy of contempt,
and that she felt sure of always, and under all circumstances,
bestowing upon him.