THOSE BONDS AGAIN!
Once more--it was the afternoon of the day following that evening visit
of All Souls' Rector to the Bank--Isaac Hastings entered the manager's
room to announce a visitor to Mr. George Godolphin. Lord Averil.
George looked up: a startled expression crossing his face. It was
instantly suppressed: but, not for his very life could he have helped
its appearance in the first moment.
"When did _he_ come to Prior's Ash?"
"I don't know," replied Isaac. "I told him I was not sure but you were
engaged, sir. I had thought Mr. Arkwright was with you. Lord Averil
asked me to come and see: he particularly wishes to see you, he says."
"I am engaged," replied George, catching at the excuse as a drowning man
catching at a straw. "That is"--taking out his watch--"I have not time
now to see him. Tell Lord Averil I am particularly engaged."
"Very well, sir."
Isaac went out with the message, and Lord Averil departed, merely saying
that he would call again. The reappearance of Charlotte Pain's husband
could not have brought more dire dismay to that lady, than did this
reappearance of Lord Averil's at Prior's Ash, bring to George Godolphin.
Did he think Lord Averil would never favour Prior's Ash with his
presence again? It is hard to say what foolish thing he thought. Lord
Averil had been in town for the last month. Once during that time, he
had written to have those deposited deeds sent up to him, about which he
had spoken to Mr. George Godolphin. George had answered the letter with
some well-framed excuse. But now here was Lord Averil again at Prior's
Ash--and at the Bank! Doubtless once more in quest of his deeds.
George Godolphin put his hand to his weary brow. His ever-constant
belief was, that he should get straight in time. In time. To his
sanguine temperament, time would prove the panacea for all his ills. If
he could only avert present difficulties, time would do the rest. That
terrible difficulties were upon him, none knew better than he: but the
worst difficulty of all would be this of Lord Averil's, should exposure
come. Short as George was of ready cash--it may seem a paradox to say it
of a banker, but so it was--he would have scraped together every
shilling from every available corner and parted with it, to have ensured
the absence of Lord Averil from Prior's Ash for an indefinite period.
He pressed his hand upon his weary brow, his brain within working
tumultuously. If he must see Lord Averil--and there could be no
escape--what should be his plea for the non-production of those deeds?
It must be a plausible one. His thoughts were interrupted by a rap at
the door.
"Come in," cried George, in a sadly hopeless tone. Was it Lord Averil
again?
It was only a note. A three-cornered miniature thing fastened with a
silver wafer. No business communication that. George knew the writing
well.
"DEAR MR. GEORGE,
"Will you ride with me to-day at half-past three instead of
four? I will tell you my reason then. Lord A. is back again.
"Yours,
"C. P."
George tore the note into fragments and flung them into the
paper-basket. It was ten minutes past three. Glad of any excuse to be
out of business and its cares, he hastened things away in his room, and
left it. There were moments when George was tempted heartily to wish
himself out of it for good, safe in some unapproachable island, too
remote from civilization to be visited by the world. But he did not see
his way clear to get there.
Look at him as he rides through the town, Charlotte by his side, and the
two grooms behind them! Look at his fine bay horse, his gentlemanly
figure!--look at his laughing blue eyes, his wavy golden hair, at the
gay smiles on his lips as he turns to Charlotte! Can you fancy _care_ an
inmate of that man's breast? Prior's Ash did not. They were only content
to admire and to envy their handsome and most attractive banker, George
Godolphin.
They rode by the Bank. It was not often--indeed it was very rarely--that
they passed it in their rides. There were plenty of other ways, without
choosing that one. George never would have chosen it: perhaps he had the
grace to think that his frequent rides with Mrs. Charlotte Pain need not
be paraded so conspicuously before the windows of his wife. Charlotte,
however, had a will of her own, and sometimes she chose to exercise it.
As good luck had it, or ill luck, or no luck at all, Maria happened to
be at the drawing-room window to-day. Some ladies were paying her a
visit, and Meta--who was sometimes indulged, as an only child is
indulged--made one in the drawing-room. She caught sight of her papa,
forthwith climbed upon a chair to see him better, and leaned from the
open window, clapping her hands. "Papa! papa!"
Maria sprang to hold her in. She was a child who had little sense of
danger. Had George held out his arms then, and said, "Jump out to me,
Meta," she would have taken the leap fearlessly. Maria caught her round
the waist, and the visitors came forward to see.
Charlotte threw up a triumphant glance. One of those curiously
triumphant glances that she was rather fond of giving Mrs. George
Godolphin. Maria bowed gravely. An idea--a faint idea, glancing at no
ill--had been growing over her lately that her husband passed more time
with Charlotte Pain than was absolutely necessary. George smiled at his
wife, lifted his hat to the ladies at her side, and waved a kiss to
Meta.
The red blood had mantled to his cheek. At what? At Charlotte's
triumphantly saucy look--which he had not failed to catch--or at his
wife's grave one? Or at the sight of a gentleman who stood on the
pavement, saluting them as they passed? It was the Viscount Averil.
George saluted again, and rode on with a smooth brow and a face bright
as day.
Considerably later; just before five, in fact, when the Bank closed,
Lord Averil presented himself at it again. Had Mr. George Godolphin
returned? If so, could he see him?
Mr. George had not come in. Mr. Hurde came forward and inquired if it
was anything that he could do for his lordship.
Lord Averil had known Mr. Hurde a long while. He had seen him in his
place there as long as he had banked with Godolphin, Crosse, and
Godolphin. He supposed he was a confidential clerk: and, in point of
fact, Mr. Hurde was so to a great extent.
"You hold some bonds of mine," said Lord Averil. "Bonds of some stock
which Sir George Godolphin purchased for me. Did you know anything of
it?"
"I remember the transaction quite well, my lord," replied Mr. Hurde.
"I want the bonds delivered up to me. Can I have them?"
"Certainly. Your lordship can have them whenever you please. They are in
your case, in the strong-room."
"I should have liked them to-day, if possible," replied Lord Averil.
"There will be no difficulty at all, my lord. Mr. George Godolphin can
deliver them to you as soon as he comes in."
"Will he be in soon, think you?"
"He is sure not to be very long, my lord. I have to see him before I
leave."
"Then I think I'll wait," said Lord Averil.
He was shown into the Bank parlour, and left there. At five the clerks
quitted the Bank: it was usual for them to do so. Mr. Hurde waited. In
about a quarter of an hour George entered.
A few minutes given to the business for which Mr. Hurde had remained,
and then he spoke. "Lord Averil is waiting to see you, sir."
"Lord Averil?" cried George, in a hasty tone. "Waiting now?"
"He is in the parlour, sir. He asked if he could have his bonds given up
to him. I said I thought he could, and he replied that he would wait."
"Then you had no business to say anything of the sort," burst forth
George, in so vehement a tone as to astonish the sober cashier. "It may
not be convenient to lay one's hands upon the bonds at a minute's
notice, Hurde," he more quietly added, as if he would soothe down or
atone for his anger.
"They are in Lord Averil's box in the strong-room, sir," said the old
clerk, supposing his master must have temporarily forgotten where the
said bonds were placed. "Mr. Godolphin was speaking to me about those
bonds the other day."
"What about them?" inquired George, striving to put the question easily.
"It was nothing particular, sir. He was only mentioning their increased
value: how they had gone up in the market."
George said no more. He turned from the office and halted before the
door of the parlour. Halted to collect his brains. One hand was on the
handle of the door, the other on his brow. Lord Averil rose, and shook
hands cordially.
"I have come to bother you again about my bonds, Mr. George. I don't
care to keep that stock, and the present is a most favourable
opportunity to sell."
"They'll go higher yet," observed George.
"Will they? They tell me differently in London. The opinion there is,
that they will begin to fall."
"All rubbish," said George. "A _canard_ got up on the Stock Exchange."
"Well, I have made up my mind to sell," observed Lord Averil. "I wrote
to you from London to send me the shares up; but you did not seem to be
in a hurry to do it. So I have come down for them."
George laughed. "Come down for nothing but the shares? But you will make
some stay here?"
"No. I go up again to-morrow. I am not sure whether I shall return here
for the summer or not. Some friends of mine are going over to Canada for
three or four months. Perhaps I may accompany them."
George devoutly wished his lordship could be off, there and then; and
that the sojourn might last years instead of months. "I wish _I_ had the
time to go there!" cried he, aloud: "I'd start to-morrow."
"Will it be troubling you to give me the bonds, Mr. George?"
George sat a few moments, his head bent as if in thought. "The bonds?"
he slowly said. "Your bonds? They were sent--yes, certainly, your bonds
were sent to our agents in London."
"My bonds sent to your agents in London!" repeated Lord Averil, in
surprise. "What for?"
George coughed. "Some of our deposited deeds are kept there. Let me
see?" he continued, again plunging into thought. "Yes--yours were
amongst those that went up, I remember."
"But why not have told me this before?" asked Lord Averil. "Had you
written me word, it would have saved me the journey down."
"To be sure," acquiesced George. "To tell you the truth, I never thought
much about it, or where they were, until now."
"Mr. Hurde told me they were here," said Lord Averil.
"No doubt he thought so. They were here until recently."
"I shall have my journey back again, then!" cried his lordship. "Will
the town bankers give them up to me on my simple demand, or must they
have your authority?"
"I will write to them," responded George.
The viscount rose. Not a shade of suspicion had crossed his mind. But he
could not help thinking that he should have made a better man of
business than handsome George. "I wish you had told me!" he
involuntarily repeated. "But I suppose," he good-naturedly added, "that
my poor bonds are too insignificant to have much place in the thoughts
of a man surrounded by hundreds of thousands."
George laughed. He was walking with Lord Averil to the front door. They
stood together when it was reached, the street before them. Lord Averil
asked after Mr. Godolphin.
"He seems a little better," replied George. "Certainly no worse."
"I am glad to hear it. Very glad indeed. You will not forget to write to
town, Mr. George?"
"All right," replied George Godolphin.