Alice Vavasor's Name Gets into the Money Market.
Some ten or twelve days after George Vavasor's return to London from
Westmoreland he appeared at Mr. Scruby's offices with four small
slips of paper in his hand. Mr. Scruby, as usual, was pressing for
money. The third election was coming on, and money was already being
spent very freely among the men of the River Bank. So, at least, Mr.
Scruby declared. Mr. Grimes, of the "Handsome Man," had shown signs
of returning allegiance. But Mr. Grimes could not afford to be loyal
without money. He had his little family to protect. Mr. Scruby,
too, had his little family, and was not ashamed to use it on this
occasion. "I'm a family man, Mr. Vavasor, and therefore I never run
any risks. I never go a yard further than I can see my way back."
This he had said in answer to a proposition that he should take
George's note of hand for the expenses of the next election, payable
in three months' time. "It is so very hard to realize," said George,
"immediately upon a death, when all the property left is real
property." "Very hard indeed," said Mr. Scruby, who had heard with
accuracy all the particulars of the old Squire's will. Vavasor
understood the lawyer, cursed him inwardly, and suggested to himself
that some day he might murder Mr. Scruby as well as John Grey,--and
perhaps also a few more of his enemies. Two days after the interview
in which his own note of hand had been refused, he again called in
Great Marlborough Street. Upon this occasion he tendered to Mr. Scruby
for his approval the four slips of paper which have been mentioned.
Mr. Scruby regarded them with attention, looking first at one side
horizontally, and then at the other side perpendicularly. But before
we learn the judgement pronounced by Mr. Scruby as to these four slips
of paper, we must go back to their earlier history. As they were
still in their infancy, we shall not have to go back far.
One morning, at about eleven o'clock the parlour-maid came up to
Alice, as she sat alone in the drawing-room in Queen Anne Street, and
told her there was a "gentleman" in the hall waiting to be seen by
her. We all know the tone in which servants announce a gentleman when
they know that the gentleman is not a gentleman.
"A gentleman wanting to see me! What sort of a gentleman?"
"Well, miss, I don't think he's just of our sort; but he's decent to
look at."
Alice Vavasor had no desire to deny herself to any person but one.
She was well aware that the gentleman in the hall could not be her
cousin George, and therefore she did not refuse to see him.
"Let him come up," she said. "But I think, Jane, you ought to ask him
his name." Jane did ask him his name, and came back immediately,
announcing Mr. Levy.
This occurred immediately after the return of Mr. John Vavasor from
Westmoreland. He had reached home late on the preceding evening, and
at the moment of Mr. Levy's call was in his dressing-room.
Alice got up to receive her visitor, and at once understood the tone
of her maid's voice. Mr. Levy was certainly not a gentleman of the
sort to which she had been most accustomed. He was a little dark man,
with sharp eyes, set very near to each other in his head, with a
beaked nose, thick at the bridge, and a black moustache, but no other
beard. Alice did not at all like the look of Mr. Levy, but she stood
up to receive him, made him a little bow, and asked him to sit down.
"Is papa dressed yet?" Alice asked the servant.
"Well, miss, I don't think he is,--not to say dressed."
Alice had thought it might be as well that Mr. Levy should know that
there was a gentleman in the house with her.
"I've called about a little bit of business, miss," said Mr. Levy,
when they were alone. "Nothing as you need disturb yourself about.
You'll find it all square, I think." Then he took a case out of his
breast-pocket, and produced a note, which he handed to her. Alice
took the note, and saw immediately that it was addressed to her by
her cousin George. "Yes, Mr. George Vavasor," said Mr. Levy. "I dare
say you never saw me before, miss?"
"No, sir; I think not," said Alice.
"I am your cousin's clerk."
"Oh, you're Mr. Vavasor's clerk. I'll read his letter, if you please,
sir."
"If you please, miss."
George Vavasor's letter to his cousin was as follows:--
DEAR ALICE,
After what passed between us when I last saw you I thought
that on my return from Westmoreland I should learn that
you had paid in at my bankers' the money that I require.
But I find that this is not so; and of course I excuse
you, because women so seldom know when or how to do that
which business demands of them. You have, no doubt, heard
the injustice which my grandfather has done me, and will
probably feel as indignant as I do. I only mention this
now, because the nature of his will makes it more than
ever incumbent on you that you should be true to your
pledge to me.
Till there shall be some ground for a better understanding
between us,--and this I do not doubt will come,--I think
it wiser not to call, myself, at Queen Anne Street. I
therefore send my confidential clerk with four bills, each
of five hundred pounds, drawn at fourteen days' date,
across which I will get you to write your name. Mr. Levy
will show you the way in which this should be done. Your
name must come under the word "accepted," and just above
the name of Messrs. Drummonds, where the money must be
lying ready, at any rate, not later than Monday fortnight.
Indeed, the money must be there some time on the Saturday.
They know you so well at Drummonds' that you will not
object to call on the Saturday afternoon, and ask if it is
all right.
I have certainly been inconvenienced by not finding the
money as I expected on my return to town. If these bills
are not properly provided for, the result will be very
disastrous to me. I feel, however, sure that this will be
done, both for your own sake and for mine.
Affectionately yours,
GEORGE VAVASOR.
The unparalleled impudence of this letter had the effect which the
writer had intended. It made Alice think immediately of her own
remissness,--if she had been remiss,--rather than of the enormity of
his claim upon her. The decision with which he asked for her money,
without any pretence at an excuse on his part, did for the time
induce her to believe that she had no alternative but to give it to
him, and that she had been wrong in delaying it. She had told him
that he should have it, and she ought to have been as good as her
word. She should not have forced upon him the necessity of demanding
it.
But the idea of signing four bills was terrible to her, and she felt
sure that she ought not to put her name to orders for so large an
amount and then intrust them to such a man as Mr. Levy. Her father
was in the house, and she might have asked him. The thought that
she would do so of course occurred to her. But then it occurred to
her also that were she to speak to her father as to this advancing
of money to her cousin,--to this giving of money, for she now well
understood that it would be a gift;--were she to consult her father
in any way about it, he would hinder her, not only from signing the
bills for Mr. Levy, but, as far as he could do so, from keeping the
promise made to her cousin. She was resolved that George should have
the money, and she knew that she could give it to him in spite of her
father. But her father might probably be able to delay the gift, and
thus rob it of its chief value. If she were to sign the bills, the
money must be made to be forthcoming. So much she understood.
Mr. Levy had taken out the four bills from the same case, and had
placed them on the table before him. "Mr. Vavasor has explained, I
believe, miss, what it is you have to do?" he said.
"Yes, sir; my cousin has explained."
"And there is nothing else to trouble you with, I believe. If you
will just write your name across them, here, I need not detain you by
staying any longer." Mr. Levy was very anxious to make his visit as
short as possible, since he had heard that Mr. John Vavasor was in the
house.
But Alice hesitated. Two thousand pounds is a very serious sum of
money. She had heard much of sharpers, and thought that she ought to
be cautious. What if this man, of whom she had never before heard,
should steal the bills after she had signed them? She looked again at
her cousin's letter, chiefly with the object of gaining time.
"It's all right, miss," said Mr. Levy.
"Could you not leave them with me, sir?" said Alice.
"Well; not very well, miss. No doubt Mr. Vavasor has explained it all;
but the fact is, he must have them this afternoon. He has got a heavy
sum to put down on the nail about this here election, and if it ain't
down to-day, them on whom he has to depend will be all abroad."
"But, sir, the money will not be payable to-day. If I understand it,
they are not cheques."
"No, miss, no; they are not cheques. But your name, miss, at fourteen
days, is the same as ready money;--just the same."
She paused, and while she paused, he reached a pen for her from the
writing-table, and then she signed the four bills as he held them
before her. She was quick enough at doing this when she had once
commenced the work. Her object, then, was that the man should be gone
from the house before her father could meet him.
These were the four bits of paper which George Vavasor tendered to Mr.
Scruby's notice on the occasion which we have now in hand. In doing
so, he made use of them after the manner of a grand capitalist, who
knows that he may assume certain airs as he allows the odours of the
sweetness of his wealth to drop from him.
"You insisted on ready money, with your d---- suspicions," said he;
"and there it is. You're not afraid of fourteen days, I dare say."
"Fourteen days is neither here nor there," said Mr. Scruby. "We can
let our payments stand over as long as that, without doing any harm.
I'll send one of my men down to Grimes, and tell him I can't see him,
till,--let me see," and he looked at one of the bills, "till the
15th."
But this was not exactly what George Vavasor wanted. He was desirous
that the bills should be immediately turned into money, so that the
necessity of forcing payments from Alice, should due provision for
the bills not be made, might fall into other hands than his.
"We can wait till the 15th," said Scruby, as he handed the bits of
paper back to his customer.
"You will want a thousand, you say?" said George.
"A thousand to begin with. Certainly not less."
"Then you had better keep two of them."
"Well--no! I don't see the use of that. You had better collect them
through your own banker, and let me have a cheque on the 15th or
16th."
"How cursed suspicious you are, Scruby."
"No, I ain't. I'm not a bit suspicious. I don't deal in such
articles; that's all!"
"What doubt can there be about such bills as those? Everybody knows
that my cousin has a considerable fortune, altogether at her own
disposal."
"The truth is, Mr. Vavasor, that bills with ladies' names on
them,--ladies who are no way connected with business,--ain't just the
paper that people like."
"Nothing on earth can be surer."
"You take them into the City for discount, and see if the bankers
don't tell you the same. They may be done, of course, upon your name.
I say nothing about that."
"I can explain to you the nature of the family arrangement, but I
can't do that to a stranger. However, I don't mind."
"Of course not. The time is so short that it does not signify. Have
them collected through your own bankers, and then, if it don't suit
you to call, send me a cheque for a thousand pounds when the time
is up." Then Mr. Scruby turned to some papers on his right hand, as
though the interview had been long enough. Vavasor looked at him
angrily, opening his wound at him and cursing him inwardly. Mr. Scruby
went on with his paper, by no means regarding either the wound or the
unspoken curses. Thereupon Vavasor got up and went away without any
word of farewell.
As he walked along Great Marlborough Street, and through those
unalluring streets which surround the Soho district, and so on to
the Strand and his own lodgings, he still continued to think of some
wide scheme of revenge,--of some scheme in which Mr. Scruby might be
included. There had appeared something latterly in Mr. Scruby's manner
to him, something of mingled impatience and familiarity, which made
him feel that he had fallen in the attorney's estimation. It was not
that the lawyer thought him to be less honourable, or less clever,
than he had before thought him; but that the man was like a rat,
and knew a falling house by the instinct that was in him. So George
Vavasor cursed Mr. Scruby, and calculated some method of murdering him
without detection.
The reader is not to suppose that the Member for the Chelsea
Districts had, in truth, resolved to gratify his revenge by
murder,--by murdering any of those persons whom he hated so
vigorously. He did not, himself, think it probable that he would
become a murderer. But he received some secret satisfaction in
allowing his mind to dwell upon the subject, and in making those
calculations. He reflected that it would not do to take off Scruby
and John Grey at the same time, as it would be known that he was
connected with both of them; unless, indeed, he was to take off a
third person at the same time,--a third person, as to the expediency
of ending whose career he made his calculations quite as often as he
did in regard to any of those persons whom he cursed so often. It
need hardly be explained to the reader that this third person was the
sitting Member for the Chelsea Districts.
As he was himself in want of instant ready money Mr. Scruby's
proposition that he should leave the four bills at his own bankers',
to be collected when they came to maturity, did not suit him. He
doubted much, also, whether at the end of the fourteen days the
money would be forthcoming. Alice would be driven to tell her father,
in order that the money might be procured, and John Vavasor would
probably succeed in putting impediments in the way of the payment.
He must take the bills into the City, and do the best there that he
could with them. He was too late for this to-day, and therefore he
went to his lodgings, and then down to the House. In the House he
sat all the night with his hat over his eyes, making those little
calculations of which I have spoken.
"You have heard the news; haven't you?" said Mr. Bott to him,
whispering in his ear.
"News; no. I haven't heard any news."
"Finespun has resigned, and Palliser is at this moment with the Duke
of St. Bungay in the Lords' library."
"They may both be at the bottom of the Lords' fishpond, for what I
care," said Vavasor.
"That's nonsense, you know," said Bott. "Still, you know Palliser is
Chancellor of the Exchequer at this moment. What a lucky fellow you
are to have such a chance come to you directly you get in. As soon as
he takes his seat down there, of course we shall go up behind him."
"We shall have another election in a month's time," said George. "I'm
safe enough," said Bott. "It never hurts a man at elections to be
closely connected with the Government."
George Vavasor was in the City by times the next morning, but he
found that the City did not look with favourable eyes on his four
bills. The City took them up, first horizontally, and then, with
a twist of its hand, perpendicularly, and looked at them with
distrustful eyes. The City repeated the name, Alice Vavasor, as
though it were not esteemed a good name on Change. The City suggested
that as the time was so short, the holder of the bills would be wise
to hold them till he could collect the amount. It was very clear that
the City suspected something wrong in the transaction. The City, by
one of its mouths, asserted plainly that ladies' bills never meant
business. George Vavasor cursed the City, and made his calculation
about murdering it. Might not a river of strychnine be turned on
round the Exchange about luncheon time? Three of the bills he left
at last with his own bankers for collection, and retained the fourth
in his breast-pocket, intending on the morrow to descend with it
into those lower depths of the money market which he had not as yet
visited. Again, on the next day, he went to work and succeeded to
some extent. Among those lower depths he found a capitalist who was
willing to advance him two hundred pounds, keeping that fourth bill
in his possession as security. The capitalist was to have forty
pounds for the transaction, and George cursed him as he took his
cheque. George Vavasor knew quite enough of the commercial world to
enable him to understand that a man must be in a very bad condition
when he consents to pay forty pounds for the use of two hundred for
fourteen days. He cursed the City. He cursed the House of Commons. He
cursed his cousin Alice and his sister Kate. He cursed the memory of
his grandfather. And he cursed himself.
Mr. Levy had hardly left the house in Queen Anne Street, before
Alice had told her father what she had done. "The money must be
forthcoming," said Alice. To this her father made no immediate reply,
but turning himself in his chair away from her with a sudden start,
sat looking at the fire and shaking his head. "The money must be made
to be forthcoming," said Alice. "Papa, will you see that it is done?"
This was very hard upon poor John Vavasor, and so he felt it to
be. "Papa, if you will not promise, I must go to Mr. Round about it
myself, and must find out a broker to sell out for me. You would not
wish that my name should be dishonoured."
"You will be ruined," said he, "and for such a rascal as that!"
"Never mind whether he is a rascal or not, papa. You must acknowledge
that he has been treated harshly by his grandfather."
"I think that will was the wisest thing my father ever did. Had he
left the estate to George, there wouldn't have been an acre of it
left in the family in six months' time."
"But the life interest, papa!"
"He would have raised all he could upon that, and it would have done
him no good."
"At any rate, papa, he must have this two thousand pounds. You must
promise me that."
"And then he will want more."
"No; I do not think he will ask for more. At any rate, I do not think
that I am bound to give him all that I have."
"I should think not. I should like to know how you can be bound to
give him anything?"
"Because I promised it. I have signed the bills now, and it must be
done." Still Mr. Vavasor made no promise. "Papa, if you will not say
that you will do it, I must go down to Mr. Round at once."
"I don't know that I can do it. I don't know that Mr. Round can do
it. Your money is chiefly on mortgage." Then there was a pause for
a moment in the conversation. "Upon my word, I never heard of such
a thing in my life," said Mr. Vavasor; "I never did. Four thousand
pounds given away to such a man as that, in three months! Four
thousand pounds! And you say you do not intend to marry him."
"Certainly not; all that is over."
"And does he know that it is over?"
"I suppose he does."
"You suppose so! Things of that sort are so often over with you!"
This was very cruel. Perhaps she had deserved the reproach, but still
it was very cruel. The blow struck her with such force that she
staggered under it. Tears came into her eyes, and she could hardly
speak lest she should betray herself by sobbing.
"I know that I have behaved badly," she said at last; "but I am
punished, and you might spare me now!"
"I didn't want to punish you," he said, getting up from his chair and
walking about the room. "I don't want to punish you. But, I don't
want to see you ruined!"
"I must go to Mr. Round then, myself."
Mr. Vavasor went on walking about the room, jingling the money in
his trousers-pockets, and pushing the chairs about as he chanced to
meet them. At last, he made a compromise with her. He would take a
day to think whether he would assist her in getting the money, and
communicate his decision to her on the following morning.