THE HONOURABLE PERCY STORNDALE.
For the second time on this eventful day Aaron felt as if his sin were
about to be brought home to him, as if the temple which, by long years
of honourable and upright conduct, he had built for himself, were
about to crumble to dust. In that temple was enshrined not only his
good name, but what was far more precious to him, his wife's happiness
and peace of mind. He had not yet nerved himself to the effort to go
to her frankly and say, "Ruth is not our child." Out of Rachel's
innate goodness and sweetness sprang the love she bore for the young
girl. The suggestion of love may come from without, but the spirit of
love is the offspring of one's own heart, and it is made enduring and
ennobling by one's own higher qualities; and in a like manner it is
one's lower passions which debase and degrade it. In whatever fashion
Rachel would receive her husband's confession, he knew full well that
it would inflict upon her the most exquisite suffering; the cherished
ideal of her life would be shattered, and she would sit for ever
afterwards in sackcloth and ashes. This was his torturing belief; it
was not that he dreaded exposure for his own sake; he had no wish to
spare himself, but to spare Rachel inevitable suffering. He knew that
the truth could not be much longer hidden, and yet he was too weak to
take the deciding step. He had sown a harvest of woe, and his constant
fervent prayer was that he might not be compelled to reap it with his
own hands.
Agitated as he was, he did not betray himself by word or sign, but by
a courteous movement of his hand invited his visitor to proceed.
"It is a family matter," said Mr. Dillworthy, "of a peculiarly
delicate nature, and my client thought it could best be arranged in a
private personal interview."
"Being of such a nature," observed Aaron, "would it not have been
better that it should be arranged privately between the parties
interested instead of through an intermediary?"
"Possibly, possibly; but my client holds strong views, and feels he
could scarcely trust himself."
"Favour me with the name of your client."
"Lord Storndale."
"Lord Storndale? I have not the pleasure of his acquaintance."
"But you are familiar with his name."
"Not at all. It is the first time I have heard it."
"You surprise me. Lord Storndale is a peer."
"I know very few peers, and have had no occasion to study the
peerage."
"But, pardon me, Storndale is the name; it may have escaped you."
"I repeat, the name is strange to me."
"I do not presume to doubt you, but it introduces a new element into
the matter. Your daughter, then, has never mentioned the Honourable
Percy Storndale to you?"
"Never, and I am at a loss to understand the association of their
names."
The lawyer paused. In this unexpected turn of affairs a deviation
suggested itself to his legal mind which would be likely to assist
him.
"Mr. Cohen, you have the reputation of being an earnest and sincere
Jew."
"I follow the precepts and the obligations of my faith," said Aaron,
with a searching glance at his visitor.
"In this back-sliding and time-serving age orthodoxy--especially, I
should say, in the Jewish religion--has a hard time of it. The customs
and duties of an enlightened civilisation must clash severely with the
precepts and obligations you speak of. It is because of the
difficulty--perhaps the impossibility--of following the hard and fast
laws of the Pentateuch that divisions have taken place, as in all
religions, and that you have among you men who call themselves
Reformed Jews."
"Surely it is not part of your mission to debate this matter with me,"
said Aaron, who had no desire to discuss these questions with a
stranger.
"No, it is not, and I do not pretend to understand it; but in a
general way the subject is interesting to me. If you will permit me, I
should like to ask you one question." Aaron signified assent. "What is
your opinion of mixed marriages?"
Aaron did not answer immediately; he had a suspicion that there was
something behind, but the subject was one regarding which both he and
Rachel held a strong view, and he felt he would be guilty of an
unworthy evasion if he refused to reply.
"I do not approve of them," he said.
"You set me at ease," said the lawyer, "and it will gratify Lord
Storndale to hear that you and he are in agreement upon the question.
As our interview is private I may speak freely. Unhappily, Lord
Storndale is a poor peer. Since he came into the title he has had
great difficulties to contend with, and as his estates lay chiefly in
Ireland these difficulties have been of late years increased. Happily
or unhappily, also, he has a large family, two daughters and six sons.
Of these sons the Honourable Percy Storndale is the youngest. I do not
know who is more to be pitied, a poor peer struggling with mortgages,
decreased rents, and the expenses of a large family, or a younger son
who comes into the world with the expectation that he is to be
provided for, and whose father can allow him at the utmost two hundred
and fifty or three hundred a year. Father and son have both to keep up
appearances, and the son's allowance will scarcely pay his tailor's
and his glover's bills. There are a thousand things he wants, and to
which he believes himself entitled. Flowers, horses, clubs, a stall at
the theatre, and so on and so on, _ad infinitum_. The consequence is
that the young gentleman gets into debt, which grows and grows.
Perhaps he thinks of a means of paying his creditors--he plunges on a
horse, he plays for high stakes at his club. You know the result. Into
the mire, deeper and deeper. A sad picture, Mr. Cohen."
"Very sad," said Aaron, who had listened patiently, and knew that the
crucial part of the lawyer's mission--that which affected himself and
Ruth--had not yet been reached.
"Lord Storndale," continued the lawyer, "is a gentleman of exclusive
views, and is perhaps prouder in his poverty than he would be with a
rent-roll of a hundred thousand a year. His son's extravagances and
debts are not hidden from his knowledge--the moneylenders take care of
that. From time to time, and at a great sacrifice, he extricates the
young scapegrace from temporary difficulties, but at length he comes
to a full stop. His own means are exhausted, and willing as he may be
to keep putting his hand in his pocket, it is useless to do so,
because the pocket is empty. But he has some influence in a small way,
and he obtains for his son the offer of a post in the colonies; not
very grand certainly, but affording an opening which may lead to
something better, if the young gentleman will only condescend to look
at life seriously--which, as a rule, such young fellows decline to do
until it is too late. However, a father, whether he be a peer or a
common labourer, can do no more than his duty. He informs his son of
the appointment he has obtained for him, and the scapegrace--I am
speaking quite openly, Mr. Cohen; the Honourable Percy Storndale _is_
one--declines to accept it. 'Why?' asks the astonished father. 'I
cannot live on it,' replies the son. Then the father points out how he
can live on it by cutting down some of his extravagances, and that he
may find opportunities in the colonies which he can never meet with
here. The son remains obdurate. 'There is another reason for your
refusal,' says the father. 'There is,' the son admits. 'I prefer to
remain in London; it is the only city in the world worth living in.'
'And starving in,' suggests the father. The scapegrace shrugs his
shoulders, and says something will turn up here, and that he will not
submit to banishment because he happens to have been born a few years
too late--a reflection upon his brother, the eldest son, who in course
of time will inherit the family embarrassments and mortgages. The
father remonstrates, argues, entreats, but the young man will not give
way. Meanwhile the appointment is bestowed upon another and a worthier
gentleman, and the chance is lost. I trust I am not wearying you."
"No. I am attending to all you say, and waiting to hear how my
daughter's name comes to be mixed up with the family history you are
giving me."
"You will understand everything presently. My object is to make the
matter perfectly clear, and to have no concealment. For this reason I
wish you to be aware of the character of the young gentleman, and
I am describing it carefully at the express wish of his father. At the
same time I lay no positive charge against him; I am not saying he is
a bad man, but an undesirable man. There are thousands of young
fellows who are living just such a careless, irresponsible, reckless
life, who get into debt, who gamble, and who ultimately find
themselves passing through the bankruptcy court. Young men without
balance, Mr. Cohen, and who, in consequence, topple over. They sow
trouble wherever they go, and they are always smiling, self-possessed,
and pleasant-mannered. Women especially are caught by these externals;
but speaking myself as the father of grown-up daughters, I should be
sorry to see one of that class visiting my house as a suitor to one of
my girls."
Aaron started, but did not speak.
"Lord Storndale suspected that there was another reason which his son
had not mentioned for his refusal of the colonial appointment, and in
a short time his suspicions were confirmed. It came to his knowledge
that his son was paying attentions to a young lady whom he was in the
habit of meeting at garden parties and tennis, and probably by
arrangement in the parks, and he taxed the young gentleman with it.
His son did not deny it; he said that he loved the lady, that her
father was very wealthy, and that she was in every way presentable. 'I
do not know,' said the young man, 'whether the circumstance of her
father being a commoner will prejudice you against him.' Lord
Storndale replied that he would have preferred his son had chosen from
his own rank, but that marriages between rich commoners and members of
the aristocracy were not unusual in these days, and that he would
sanction the match if the lady's father were a gentleman. To be honest
with you, Mr. Cohen, Lord Storndale has no liking for commoners who
have made fortunes in trade or by speculating; but he did not allow
these scruples to weigh with him, his hope being that the proposed
union would be the means of extricating his son from his difficulties,
and of steadying him. The young man said that the lady's father was a
gentleman widely known for his benevolence and uprightness of
character, and that he was held in universal esteem. Up to this point
the interview had been of an amicable nature, but then arose an
insurmountable difficulty. 'Who is the gentleman?' inquired Lord
Storndale. 'Mr. Aaron Cohen,' replied the young man."
Observing Aaron's agitation the lawyer suspended his narration, and
said,--
"Pardon me; you were about to speak."
Aaron by a great effort controlled himself.
"I will wait till you have quite finished, Mr. Dillworthy. Before I
commit myself it will be as well that I should be in possession of all
the facts."
"Quite so. I have been explicit and circumstantial in order that there
shall be no mistake. When I have finished you will have few, if any,
questions to ask, because you will know everything it is in my power
to tell. Upon hearing your name, his lordship remarked that it was a
Jewish name. 'Yes,' said the young man, 'Mr. Cohen is a Jew.' Lord
Storndale was angry and distressed. I admit that it is an unreasonable
prejudice; but he has an invincible dislike to Jews, and it shocked
him to think that his son contemplated a marriage with a Jewess. I
need dwell no longer upon the interview, which now took a stormy turn,
and it ended by the son abruptly leaving the room. On no account,
whatever, Mr. Cohen, will Lord Storndale or any member of his family
consent to such an alliance; if it is accomplished the young man will
be thrown upon his own resources, and his wife will not be recognised
by his kinsfolk. The trouble has already reached a climax. The young
gentleman is hot-headed--a Storndale failing--and he declines to
listen to remonstrances; the consequence is, that he has been
forbidden his father's home till he comes to reason. But despite his
extravagances and the constant and perplexing involvements issuing
therefrom, his father has an affection for him, and is bent upon
saving his family from----"
The lawyer pausing here, with an awkward cough, as though he was
choking down a word, Aaron quietly added it.
"Disgrace?"
"Well, yes," said Mr. Dillworthy, briskly; "we will not mince matters.
It is not my word, but Lord Storndale's. He would account such an
alliance a disgrace. I will say nothing in his excuse. In all
civilised countries we have living evidences of happy unions between
members of the aristocracy and wealthy daughters of Israel, and also
living evidences of happy mixed marriages between persons neither
aristocratic nor wealthy; and these might be brought forward as
powerful arguments against the view my client entertains. But they
would have no weight with him. We must take into consideration the
pride of race."
"Yes," said Aaron, still speaking in a quiet tone, "we must take that
into consideration. You have not quite finished, sir?"
"Not quite. As a last resource, Lord Storndale consulted me, and
entrusted me with a painful task. He requested me to call upon you,
and represent the matter in the plainest terms, which I have
endeavoured to do, omitting or concealing no single incident of the
unhappy affair. I am deputed to ask you to take a course with your
daughter similar to that he has taken with his son--that is, to
absolutely forbid the union. The young gentleman is in a state of
extreme pecuniary embarrassment, and it is possible--I do not state it
as a fact, but merely as a presumption--that he reckons upon your aid
to settle with his creditors. When he finds that this aid will not be
forthcoming, and that he cannot depend upon your making a suitable
settlement upon your daughter, he is not unlikely, for prudential
reasons, to beat a retreat."
"What is the inference you wish me to draw from this expression of
opinion?"
"That Mr. Storndale is following your daughter for your money."
"And that he has no love for her?"
The lawyer shrugged his shoulders. The interview was taking a turn not
exactly pleasing to him.
"You are not flattering the young gentleman," Aaron said.
"I had no intention of doing so. Of course, it is for you to consider
the matter from your own point of view. First, as a father----"
He paused.
"Yes, first as a father," repeated Aaron.
"Next, as a Jew."
"Yes, next as a Jew," said Aaron, again repeating the lawyer's words.
He was agitated by conflicting emotions, which no man but he could
have understood--and which, indeed, in the light of the revelation
which had been made, he himself could scarcely grasp, so strongly did
it affect the secret of his life. But that secret still was his, and
he had still to play his part.
"You are commissioned to take my answer to Lord Storndale?"
"He is anxiously awaiting it."
"I may trust you to convey that answer as nearly as possible in my own
words?"
"It shall be my endeavour."
"You will tell him, then, that the mission with which he has entrusted
you comes upon me as a surprise. As I have already informed you, I
have never, until this day, heard his name or the name of his son. As
to the character you give the young gentleman, it may or may not be
correct, for you speak of him as an advocate on the other side----"
"But surely," interrupted the lawyer, "that would not affect the
religious aspect of the question."
"No, it would not affect it. But whether correct or not, it seems
clear that the young gentleman has not acted as a man of honour,
although he is Lord Storndale's son. A young girl's trustfulness and
innocence should be her safeguard; but here they have been basely
used, according to your own statement, by a man whose external
accomplishments have unhappily attracted her."
"And from such a man," said the lawyer, rather too eagerly, "it is a
fathers duty to protect his daughter."
"Undoubtedly," replied Aaron, who could not dispute the lawyer's
reasoning. "That my wife and I should have been kept in ignorance of
Mr. Storndale's attentions is to be deplored; and it appears certain
that he must have bound Miss Cohen by a promise to say nothing to us
about them. You speak of the pride of race as affecting Lord
Storndale. We have also that pride, and if any Jewish parent were so
far forgetful of the obligations of his faith as to admit your
client's son into his family, it is upon him and upon Lord Storndale
that honour would be conferred."
"It is a fair retort," said the lawyer. "I beg you to believe that the
views I have expressed are not mine, but Lord Storndale's, in whose
interests I am acting. I am, as you say, an advocate--merely a
mouthpiece, as it were--and I am bound to follow out my instructions.
Your disapproval of mixed marriages gives me confidence that my
mission has not failed, and it will be a satisfaction to Lord
Storndale. May I take it that you will pursue the course with your
daughter that he has taken with his son, and that you will forbid the
union?"
"Have I not made myself sufficiently clear?" asked Aaron, with an
inward rebellion against the evasion he felt himself compelled to
practise.
"Yes, yes," said the lawyer, hastily, too astute to press for precise
words. "And I may inform Lord Storndale that you distinctly disapprove
of marriages between Jews and Christians?"
"You may."
Mr. Dillworthy, believing he had gained his point, wisely dropped the
subject, and expressing his obligations to Aaron, rose to take his
departure. Before he reached the door, however, he turned, and in a
tone of courteous deference, asked if Mr. Cohen could spare him a few
moments more. Aaron assenting, the lawyer resumed his seat, and taking
a pocket-book from his pocket searched in it for a letter.