Gustave's scheme, which was imagined and carried out with equal skill,
had now been realized. The entrance of the young stranger into the
family took place the next day, but so easily and naturally was it
managed, that Sandow had not the faintest suspicion of anything
unusual. But Frida was, and remained, a stranger in the strange house,
however hard and determined the struggle to appear at ease, and to show
her gratitude for the protection afforded her. Perhaps the unaccustomed
splendour of her surroundings oppressed her, for unquestionably they
stood out in sharpest contrast to her former life. She remained silent
and self-contained, and all the kindness with which Jessie received her
did not succeed in thawing her shy reserve.
Miss Clifford tried in vain to learn more of the family circumstances
and former life of the girl; Frida seemed purposely to avoid any such
conversations, and even the warm and freely displayed sympathy of the
other failed to draw from her one word of confidence. That naturally
tended to estrange Jessie, especially as she soon discovered that the
stranger by no means belonged to those gentle natures which tremble
away from all that is strange or painful. On the contrary, Frida often
unconsciously betrayed a very energetic will, a repressed but profound
passion. And yet this slavish subjection and obedience to another's
will; it was incomprehensible.
Gustave played his part far more successfully. He showed himself in his
brother's presence polite, but with the politeness of a perfect
stranger. Not a word, not the slightest sign, betrayed any mental
understanding, or even suggested a closer acquaintance than appeared;
never for one moment did he lose his self-control. He seemed still more
agreeable and high-spirited than ever, and all Jessie's attempts to
make him feel her contempt met with such a ready sarcasm that she
invariably quitted the field.
Sandow himself took little notice of Frida. Generally he showed little
attention or interest in household matters. The greater part of the day
was passed in town at the office, and the morning and evening hours,
which were spent in the villa, instead of being dedicated to relaxation
or amusement, were devoted to business occupations in his own rooms.
He saw Frida only at table, and treated her with careless civility, and
on her side there was no approach to a closer acquaintance, though she
was there precisely with that object. But either she possessed no skill
in that direction, or her obedience failed just where it was needed to
fulfil her task. At all events, she and the man in whose house she was
living were as strange to each other at the end of a week as they had
been on her first arrival.
The two gentlemen had just returned from town, and the whole party were
seated at table. Gustave, who as usual bore the chief weight of the
conversation, was amusing the ladies by describing in the most
enjoyable manner, a scene which had taken place in the office during
the afternoon. Sandow, who could not endure anything which concerned
business to be turned into ridicule, put in a few contradictory
remarks, but his brother continued to entertain his listeners with an
account of the certainly comical misunderstanding.
"I assure you it was incomparable, the excitement of this zealous agent
of Jenkins and Co., who had come at full speed from New York, and
persisted in taking me for a would-be settler, thirsting for a farm. He
would have dragged mo by force to the other end of the world, that I
might be made the happy possessor of a piece of land, and looked the
picture of despair when my brother entered and put an end to the
misunderstanding."
"You brought it on yourself," said Sandow angrily. "You drove the man
so into a corner with your endless questions that it was only natural
that he should fall into the mistake."
"Do I look like an intending farmer?" cried Gustave. "It is the first
time in my life that any one has discovered in me an enthusiasm for
spade and hoe. It would be, at all events, a fresh field of activity
which I might attempt. I am only afraid that I should be worth still
less there than at the office."
"That would be difficult," said Sandow drily, but his brother only
laughed at the implication, and observed to Miss Clifford that it was
really incomprehensible how little recognition his valuable services at
the desk received from any quarter.
Frida had become attentive during the last dialogue. Usually she never
joined uninvited in the conversation, but this time she listened with
breathless interest, and then turned to Gustave with the question--
"Jenkins and Co., the great firm in New York which is now sending out
advertisements and agents for the German emigration?"
"Quite right, Miss Palm," said Gustave. "Is the firm known to you?"
"Not to me; I was only a few weeks in New York, but it was often spoken
of in the German family where I lived. People spoke of it with much
doubt, and considered it a misfortune that Jenkins should have drawn
this also within the circle of his speculations."
"Why? Does he not bear a good reputation?" asked Gustave, with apparent
indifference.
"That must be the case. They say he is the most unprincipled
speculator, and has become rich through all kinds of dishonourable
means, and would not for a moment hesitate to sacrifice to his avarice
the welfare of all who confide in him."
Jessie sat in painful confusion while listening to this unsuspecting
remark. However ignorant she might be of the business affairs, she was
aware, from many allusions, that her guardian had commercial
intercourse with this firm.
Sandow bit his lip, and was about to turn the conversation, when his
brother said emphatically--
"You must have been misinformed, Miss Palm. Jenkins and Co. belong to
our business circle; indeed, we have done business with them for
years."
Frida turned pale. It was not embarrassment, but perfect horror that
her features expressed, as if she could not, would not, believe what
she had just heard.
Now Sandow took up the conversation, and said in his sharpest tone--
"You see, Miss Palm, how painful it may be when one believes such evil
reports, and repeats them too. My brother is quite right. Mr. Jenkins
is, and has long been, a business friend of mine."
"Then I beg pardon; I had no idea of it," said Frida softly, but her
pallor became more deadly, and suddenly she opened wide and full her
dark eyes on the man before whom she had always shyly sunk them.
There was something singular in these great dark eyes, something like a
fearful doubt, an anxious question, and Sandow seemed to feel it, the
proud, stiff-necked merchant, who bore no opposition, and had crushed
to the ground all the efforts of his brother; he could not support this
look. He turned hastily away, seized his glass, and emptied it at a
draught.
A painful silence, which lasted some moments, followed. Jessie tried at
last to start another subject, and Gustave supported her to the best of
his ability, but the attempt flagged.
Sandow appeared unable to master his vexation. Frida sat speechless,
and looked at her plate. It was a relief to all when the meal was over.
The ladies left the room, and Gustave was just following them when his
brother called him back.
"What do you really think of this Miss Palm?"
"That is hard to say. I have not spoken much with her; she seems very
shy and reserved."
"To judge by her appearance certainly, but I do not believe in it. In
her eyes lies something far removed from shyness. Singular eyes! I have
seen them distinctly to-day for the first time, and try in vain to
remember where I have met them before. The girl has only just come to
America?"
"About a month ago, I heard from Miss Clifford."
"I remember Jessie told me so. And yet there is something familiar in
those features, though I cannot recall what it is."
Gustave examined closely the expression of his brother's face, while
with apparent carelessness he replied--
"Perhaps it is a passing likeness which you observe."
"Likeness--with whom?" asked Sandow earnestly, while he supported his
head on his hand, and lost in deepest meditation looked before him.
All at once he arose, and, as if angry with himself at such involuntary
interest, said--
"Her remark at dinner was singularly wanting in tact."
"She was certainly quite innocent of any ill intention. She could have
had no suspicion of your connection with Jenkins, or she would have
been silent. She just repeated what she had heard. You see what a
reputation your 'friend' bears."
Sandow shrugged his shoulders contemptuously.
"With whom? With a few sentimental Germans, who have brought their
narrow, provincial ideas from Europe with them, and are determined not
to see that our commerce rests on quite other grounds. Whoever will be
successful here must dare; and quite differently from in Europe, where
people are still swayed by trivial circumstances. Clifford was one of
the anxious and timid ones. I have had hard work enough to drive him
forwards. Hence, up to the time of my arrival, he lived in very
moderate circumstances; it was only when the guidance of the business
fell into my hands that he became a rich man, and the firm entered the
ranks of the best in the town. But while we are speaking of Jenkins,
you have now had ample time to consider my request, and I await your
final answer."
"Then you are still determined to undertake the thing in conjunction
with Jenkins?"
"Certainly! Do you suppose that my opinion varies from day to day, or
that childish chatter such as we have just heard could make me change?"
"No, I do not suppose so, but that is just why it seemed strange to me
that such 'childish gossip' should oblige you to cast down your eyes."
"Gustave, take care!" cried Sandow, his growing passion hardly
repressed. "I bear more from you than from anyone else, but this affair
will positively separate us. I saw at a glance that you caused the
misunderstanding with the agent on purpose to learn how far his
instructions went, and I know, too, to whom the remark was directed
with which you reproved Miss Palm. But you will gain nothing of me by
such means. What I have once decided to do, that I will do, cost what
it may, and for the last time I give you the choice; but, if you refuse
me your assistance"--
"You are mistaken," interrupted Gustave. "Some days ago I wrote to the
_K--che Zeitung_ and asked for room for a long article on the subject;
naturally they will be glad to have one from my pen. Most likely it
will appear next month."
Sandow was speechless. This quite unexpected submission astonished him
greatly, and with a certain amount of suspicion he asked--
"You will let me see the article before you send it?"
"Certainly; you shall read it word for word."
The clouds began to disappear from Sandow's brow.
"I am glad, very glad. It would have been very painful to me if a
refusal on your part had led to a breach between us."
"On my account, or on that of the Clifford's money?" asked Gustave,
with overflowing bitterness.
"Jessie's fortune is not endangered by this speculation," said Sandow,
shortly and emphatically. "It is principally placed in very good
securities, and Clifford stated expressly in his will that his
daughter's inheritance should not be risked in any speculation before
she came of age or married. If it will soothe your tender conscience, I
can assure you that your future wife has not the slightest interest in
this affair. I have gone into it at my own risk, and stand to win or
lose alone."
He rose to go. Gustave rose too.
"One more question, Frank. You have gone very heavily into this
speculation?"
"With half of all I possess! You see its success is most important to
me; therefore I am very glad that we are at last agreed. I repeat, that
sort of petty morality won't answer at the present day; sooner or later
you will see that for yourself."
"With the half of all he possesses!" murmured Gustave, following the
speaker. "That is bad, very bad! Here we must go to work with the
greatest caution!"