LADY MARY
THE following morning Arthur was in Mr. Brading's room, which adjoined
the accountant's department, when one of the messengers brought a card
and handed it to Mr. Brading.
A frown contracted the gentleman's face as his eye fell upon the name
it bore. "I wish she had chosen some other time," Arthur heard him
mutter under his breath. But to the messenger who was waiting, he said:
"Show Lady Mary Murray to my room downstairs, and tell her I will be
with her immediately."
Then he concluded his business with Arthur as quickly as he could, and
went down after the messenger.
"Good-morning, my lady!" he said, as he entered the room where Lady
Mary was standing as erect as a dart. She was nearly six feet in
height, with high, bony, prominent cheek-bones and small eager dark
eyes, and she stood in the middle of the small waiting-room as Mr.
Brading entered, looking anything but pleasant or amiable.
"Pray be seated," said the gentleman, drawing forward a large
easy-chair.
But she pushed it aside with her foot. "I have no time to waste, Mr.
Brading," she said. "I have come to know what you mean by sending me
such a note as you did yesterday? I sent you a cheque for five pounds
more than a week ago in payment of my account, and have received no
receipt for the money?"
"Because the letter has never reached us, and consequently we have not
had the cheque," said Mr. Brading, looking keenly at her.
They stood facing each other for a minute in silence, and then Lady
Mary said: "Then one of your servants must have stolen the letter!"
"No, indeed, that is not possible, I think. Will, you tell me when and
where the letter was posted, and which of your servants took it to the
post."
"It was not a servant at all, but my son took it for me, as he was just
going out, early in the evening."
"Then it should have reached us the next morning, by the first post, in
fact. Now I will tell you what our arrangements with the post office
are, that you may see how impossible it is that the letter could have
reached us. The first post is always the heaviest—"
"I can't stay listening to all this rigmarole! I tell you the letter
has been lost here. My son says he put it into the letter-box, for I
asked him, and I have been there—to the post office, I mean—and they
say the letter must have been brought here, and here it must be found!"
The lady had broken in impatiently upon Mr. Brading's speech, and now
moved restlessly from one foot to the other as she demanded: "Who
receives the letters here for you? Whoever it is, he must be the thief."
"Your nephew, Mr. Arthur Murray, receives and distributes all the
morning letters," answered the gentleman calmly.
"Who? What?" almost screamed the lady. "I have no nephew nearer than
Lismore Castle, in Ireland. What impostor has dared to come to you in
my name?"
She was fairly dancing now, what Arthur would have called an "Irish
jig."
Mr. Brading could scarcely preserve his gravity as he said:
"There has been no imposture, my lady. Mr. Arthur Murray is a friend
of my son's, and a short time ago, he entered my employment as an
assistant to my accountant, and it is part—"
"Arthur Murray in your employment! No wonder I have lost my letter,
especially as it happens to have money in it! Send for the police at
once, and I will give him in charge for stealing my cheque!"
"Indeed, my lady, I cannot do that on the evidence I have at present,"
said Mr. Brading, after a pause.
He was overwhelmed with astonishment that she should make such a
charge against one of her own family. He had mentioned Arthur's name
in connection with the affair because he thought it would convince her
that the missing letter had not reached him, and that it must have
been lost or mislaid through some other individual. But to hear her
urge that the police should be called in to arrest Arthur was a shock
to him, and after a pause, he wondered whether he had done wisely in
placing Arthur in such a responsible position.
Lady Mary did not stop to consider what she said or what she did. Her
Irish blood was roused, and she kept up her jig as she went on: "That
boy would not mind what he did! I know him, if you don't, and have
suffered from him and his ways too much to put up with him quietly! Of
course he would not mind taking my money, poor as they are now! Why did
you let him come here? Why didn't you tell him to go to some other town
for a situation? Did you know they were so poor that any money would be
a temptation to that boy? And I tell you he has done pretty much as he
likes all his life!"
Mr. Brading looked at the angry lady in wondering surprise. But at
last he managed to say: "You seem to forget, my lady, that it was no
business of mine to tell him to go elsewhere in search of a situation.
I needed an assistant in the accountant's department, and Arthur Murray
was recommended to me as being clever and careful at book-keeping, and
I was willing to give him a trial."
"Although you must have known that he has been brought up in such
habits of luxury and extravagance that the Murrays, that branch of
the family at least, have not paid their debts for years! So that the
salary you would be likely to pay him would never suffice for all his
fancied wants, and he would help himself to other people's money of
course!"
"I do not think you are justified, my lady, in making such charges as
these against your nephew," said Mr. Brading. And he was about to say
more, when Lady Mary turned upon him, white with anger.
"How dare you call him my nephew!" she protested. "He is no relation of
mine. My late husband was cousin to his father, and I have good cause
to regret even this slight kinship. For nearly all the money left me by
my first husband has gone to these Murrays. And now to be robbed—!"
"I beg your pardon, Lady Mary, but I cannot allow these charges to be
made unless they can be proved."
"Prove them, then, or I will! I tell you, Mr. Brading, I am not going
to lose this cheque without making a stir about it, and discovering
the thief! If my cheque is not satisfactorily accounted for by the end
of the week, I shall put the matter into the hands of the police." And
with this threat, Lady Mary walked out of the room, leaving Mr. Brading
greatly disturbed.
Busy as he was that morning, he sat there for nearly half an
hour thinking over this incident of the lost letter in all its
possibilities. He did not like to suspect Arthur Murray of taking the
cheque. But what was he to think, especially after what Lady Mary had
said about him? Surely she must know him better than most people, and
was she likely to make such a charge against one bearing her own name,
unless she had good ground for her suspicion?
The thought of this being true was anything but welcome to Mr. Brading,
for he liked the lad independently of his being his son's friend. The
report he had received concerning him from Mr. Bristow as to the way
in which he did his work, considering his youth, had pleased him very
much, so that he had felt glad to hear that Arthur was satisfied with
his position, and willing to stay on.
"If this arrangement had not been entered into, the position would
not have been so difficult," thought Mr. Brading, as he sat there
and pondered and wondered what step he ought to take in the matter,
and considering Lady Mary's threat to call in the police. This was a
position he had not thought of, and it would involve business aspects
of the affair that might be even more unpleasant. He would far rather
take the loss upon himself than have his name brought forward in a
police court case.
He was still thinking and wondering how he should find his way out of
the tangle, when he was called upon to receive another customer, and
the affair had to be put aside. He tried not to think of it again that
day, for it had seriously hindered him already.
He stayed that evening until after Arthur had gone, on purpose to have
a few words with the chief accountant, Mr. Bristow.
"What do you think of young Murray now?" he asked rather abruptly, much
to Mr. Bristow's surprise, for he had had some talk with Mr. Brading
about Arthur's capabilities for business only a short time before, and
he wondered at being questioned about him again.
"I am worried about this missing letter," explained Mr. Brading. "Lady
Mary Murray has been to see me to-day, and she gives the lad a very
indifferent character, and thinks he may have been tempted to use her
cheque by reason of their present poverty and the habits of luxury and
self-indulgence in which he has been brought up. We know well enough
the character they bear for not paying their debts, and this in itself
is likely to undermine those principles of honesty and straightforward
dealing that every lad should be reared in. What do you think of it?"
asked Mr. Brading.
Mr. Bristow shook his head. "I never even glanced at the possibility
of young Murray stealing the letter. Why should he pitch upon this
particular one? There have been plenty of others containing money, and
I have heard of no others being missed. Have you received any other
complaint?" asked the accountant.
"No, I have not, and I hate to think the lad may be guilty of this
theft. And yet how else are we to account for the disappearance of the
letter?"
"Letters have been lost in their transit through the post before now,"
said Mr. Bristow, "and I should be more disposed to think that our
letter has gone that way than that Arthur Murray has had anything to do
with it. He and Lady Mary evidently dislike each other, from what he
said here when it was discovered that the letter was lost, and that may
have had something to do with her giving him an indifferent character
for honesty."
"Well, to tell you the truth, I am at a loss to know what to think. My
lady was very angry, for she danced."
Mr. Bristow could not help laughing a little at this point, in spite of
the seriousness of the subject under discussion.
"I beg your pardon for laughing, but she seems to have carried out
pretty accurately what young Murray said would happen when she went to
the post office to enquire for the missing letter, and wished he could
be present to witness the performance."
"I wish he had been there to hear what Lady Mary said. It would have
made my task a good deal easier, and I should have known better how to
go to work to clear up this mystery. You should have heard the rich
Irish brogue into which she lapsed as she denounced the lad!"
"That would be enough in itself to prove that she had not thought of
what she was saying, and as each seems to be prejudiced against the
other, I should be inclined to think she had let her anger and her
prejudice have their way when speaking of the matter," put in Mr.
Bristow.
"I am inclined to take the same view, and so I think perhaps, for the
present, it will be best to say very little about the affair. But in
the meanwhile I should like you to keep a sharp eye on young Murray,
and if you see anything suspicious in his conduct or manner let me know
at once. Lady Mary threatens to put the matter into the hands of the
police, but I don't think she will do that, considering that it is one
of her own name and family whose character is impugned."
Meanwhile, as Arthur walked home that evening, he almost ran against
Adrian Murray, who started when he saw Arthur, but did not hold out his
hand to respond to his greeting.
"What's the matter, old fellow?" Arthur asked in some surprise. "I
haven't got the small-pox, you need not be afraid of me."
"I don't know so much about that," replied Adrian, trying to assume an
injured air. "You're a pretty cunning fellow, and I dare say you think
you are very clever, but you are found out at last."
"Found out! What do you mean? What was there to find out?" said Arthur
in a tone of surprise.
"Well, you'll hear soon enough, I expect, for the Mater has found it
out, and—"
"But what has she found out?" asked Arthur impatiently.
"Why, she has been down to your shop. I never thought, when I met you
at Brading's the other day, that you were in the shop there, and you
took good care you never told me."
"Well, now, the fact is I did not get a chance, for you walked off home
so early. I was just beginning to tell you while we were in the garden,
but before I could get it out we were asked to go in to dance, and
there was no other opportunity to speak to you quietly."
"Well, you've lost your chance then. If you had told me I might have
been able to talk the Mater over and bring her round to let you stay
there, if it was your fancy to be a shopman and advertise the fact to
everybody. But, now—well, my Lady Mary is simply raving over it, and
she declares she will not have our family name disgraced on her own
door-step!"
Arthur laughed mockingly. "Our family name!" he repeated. "How long
have you been a Murray? Thomas Wilkins, your father, was not a Murray,
but Wilkins, a retired pork butcher or sausage-maker or pork-pie
manufacturer. You may not remember it, I dare say, but my father knew
all about it, and so do a good many other people."
"I don't care who knows it! I have a perfect right to the name of
Murray. Lady Mary took care of that for me, as she has taken care of
most things, or she wouldn't be as rich now as she is."
"Nobody disputes her riches," said Arthur, "but money is not
everything, and I should like to know how she is going to drive me out
of the town, if I don't choose to go. Fairmead suits me very well, and
I am not at all sure that it will please me to go anywhere else, and
you may tell her ladyship what I say if you like."
"Don't be a fool! Don't you know that my mother could crush you all as
easily as I could crush a moth. Ah! and she'll do it, too, if you cross
her in this. I tell you none of her family has ever been engaged in
trade—"
"Except your father, and perhaps he had done with the pies and sausages
before you were born," interrupted Arthur, still in the same mocking
tone.
"Well, if you will be a fool, and not only scorch yourself, but put the
rest of them at home in the fire, why, you must do it, I suppose. I
cannot help you any more. I cannot help myself. When the Mater has set
her heart upon a thing, you may bet she'll have it somehow, by hook or
by crook, and it's no good standing out against her."
"I see. That's where the shoe pinches, and you want to frighten me
with the same story. What is it now, old fellow?" said Arthur in a
half-pitying, half-bantering tone. "It is easy to see my lady has been
sitting upon you over something. What's the row?"
"Well, I'm going to Oxford after all, almost at the Mater's price!
I didn't mean to give in for less than another hundred a year, but
she says if I don't go, she will move to Dublin and make her home at
Lismore with the old Earl of Duncarron and Lady Bridget, and I have had
enough of that to last me a lifetime. Besides, she is kicking up no end
of a row down at your place about a letter the post office have lost;
and I hate rows, and since this began, there's no peace for anybody.
So I'm off at the end of this week, and if you know what's good for
yourself, you'll be off too, and serve reels of cotton at some other
shop than old Brading's. Shall I tell the Mater you're going?"
"Not a bit of it," answered Arthur; "it suits me to stay at Brading's,
and there I shall stop whether the dragon likes it or not, and you may
tell her so if you like."
And Arthur walked away whistling. But when he reached the corner of the
street, he dug his hands deep into his pockets, and forgot his whistle
as he pondered over Adrian's words, wondering what they could mean, and
whether there was any truth in the assertion that Lady Mary had him and
his in her power, and could drive them out of Fairmead if he did not go
willingly.
"Oh, dear! Those dreadful debts of the Pater's! It is enough to make
a fellow say he would rather live on dry bread than go in debt for
butter. I am sure Papa would never have brought all the trouble upon us
if he had thought about it. Now I wonder what Aunt Mary could do, or
whether the dragon is trying to bluff me as she has bluffed old Ted!
How she hates his names of Ted and Tom! I do think she has been worse
than ever over it the last year or two."
Arthur fell into a brown study over the question, and by the time he
had reached home had worked himself into as great a state of perplexity
as troubled Brading, although Arthur knew nothing of this beyond what
he had heard that evening.