CHAPTER I

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======================================================================

G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK

LADY JIM of

CURZON STREET

_A Novel_

By

FERGUS HUME

_Author of_

"The Mystery of a Hansom Cab," "A Coin of Edward VII,"

"The Pagan's Cup," "The Yellow Holly," "The Red Window,"

"The Mandarin's Fan," "The Secret Passage," etc.

G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK

Copyright, 1906, BY

G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY

-----------

Issued March, 1906

Lady Jim of

Curzon Street

LADY JIM OF CURZON STREET

CHAPTER I

"We're on the rocks this time, Leah, smashin' for all we're worth. How

we can win clear beats me."

With hands which had never earned a shilling thrust into pockets empty

even of that coin, Jim Kaimes stretched out his long legs and surveyed

his neat boots as he made this cryptic speech. His habit of expressing

himself in a parabolic fashion was confusing to his friends. But five

years of marital squabbling had schooled his wife into ready

comprehension, and she usually responded without comment. On this

occasion, however, the subject under discussion irritated even her

healthy nerves, and she replied irrelevantly.

"Really, Jim, I wish you would talk English."

"Huh! Never knew I was talking Choctaw."

"You might be, for all the sense an ordinary person can make of it."

"Ah-a-a!" said Jim, with the clumsy affection of a bear; "but you're

not an ordinary person, Leah. I'm the common or garden ass, that can't

straighten things. Now you can."

"For want of a husband I suppose I must."

"Come now, Leah. Am I not your husband?"

"Oh yes!" she answered, with a flick of her handkerchief across a pair

of scornful lips: "_my_ husband, not _a_ husband."

"What's the difference?"

"As if I could waste time in explaining. We have more serious matters

to talk about than your want of brains."

"Serious enough," assented the man, sulkily; "but you know how to deal

with trouble, Leah."

"I ought to," retorted his wife, with a shrug, "considering the

experience I have had since marrying you. I wish I hadn't."

"So do I," confessed Jim; then mended his speech with a dim sense of

having overstepped the mark: "No, by Jupiter, I don't mean that. You

an' I get on very well, considerin' each swings on a private hook. You

are not a bad sort, Leah, and I'm a--a--a--well, you know what I am."

"Not a diplomatist, certainly. Isn't this praise a trifle obvious? You

don't mean it, do you?"

She looked at him wistfully, but her candid husband soon stopped any

sentimental illusions she may have momentarily entertained. "Oh yes, I

mean it in a sort of way. An' good temper on both sides will help us

to push through the business quicker."

"You mean the Bankruptcy Court," snapped his wife.

"Perhaps I mean the Divorce Court," was his tart reply, but she was

quite ready with an answer.

"On your own part, then; you can't say a word against me."

"Who said I could? You've got the one virtue that gives its name to

the rest, and think yourself an angel."

"I had your assurance that I was an angel--once."

"No doubt. It's the sort of thing a man has to say to the woman he is

engaged to."

"And never says to the woman he is married to!"

"Marriage isn't all honey, Leah, and----"

"Heavens!" Lady Jim addressed the ceiling; "as if I required telling.

But compared with other women, Jim, I am not----"

"I never said you were," interrupted Kaimes, crossly. "I'd screw your

neck if you went on like other women."

"Upon my word, Jim, I would admire you more if you did attempt

something of that sort."

"Sorry I can't oblige you; but I'm a gentleman and bear an honoured

name."

"An honoured name!"

"Sneerin' won't alter facts, Leah. The name of Kaimes has always been

honoured----"

"Till you dragged it through the mud," interrupted Leah, in her turn.

"The old Duke is all right, and Frith's a kind man, if somewhat dull.

But you--oh heavens! to think that such a Saul should be amongst the

prophets."

Jim, not understanding the scriptural allusion, thought he was being

chaffed, a liberty which his bovine pride resented by two minutes of

sulky silence. Moreover, he dreaded his wife's formidable tongue, the

lash of which could cut through even his tough hide.

"How are we goin' to get through the business at this rate?" was his

next contribution to the conversation. "You don't remember that I've

to meet a fellow at the club to see about a bet. An' I haven't got one

shillin' to rattle against another," declared Jim, pathetically.

"Well," was the sharp reply, "I have to shop this afternoon with but

one miserable sovereign in my purse."

Lord Jim opened his sleepy blue eyes. "I say, you couldn't----?"

"No," said his wife, decisively. "I couldn't and I wouldn't, and I

can't and I shan't. Perhaps you'll read the paper and let me think."

"All right," said Kaimes, reaching for the _Sporting Times_. "I want

to see the bettin' on Podaskas."

"Betting will be your ruin."

"Has been," corrected Jim, chuckling; then reverted to his early

metaphor: "We're on the rocks this time, Leah, and no mistake."

His wife cast a look of scorn on the pink-and-white face she had once

thought handsome. And, indeed, Kaimes was good-looking in a heavy

Saxon way. Tall and muscular, with the strength of a bull and the

manners of a bear, he was precisely the sort of brutal athlete to

attract women. They flocked round him like bees, and gave him more

honey than was good for him. He accepted their endearments with the

complacent vanity of an egotist, and took little trouble to please

even the prettiest, whereupon he was adored the more.

Leah, with her elbows on the breakfast-table, stared at Jim's

well-brushed head bending over the pink sheets, and asked herself, for

the hundredth time, why she had married him. Physically he resembled a

splendid Hercules, but in another sense the likeness was not a

speaking one. He satisfied her eyes, and in no other way gave her

pleasure. When he talked, he babbled vainly about himself and his

doings, to the exclusion of any topic likely to interest other people.

Possessed of that easy good-nature which refuses nothing, which costs

nothing, Jim Kaimes was looked upon as "a good fellow," a title which

covers a multitude of the minor sins. Jim would have been meritorious

as a cave-man, and pre-historically perfect. As a civilised being he

left very much to be desired.

The subject was neither agreeable nor inexhaustible, and Leah rose

with a shrug of her shapely shoulders. Jim looked up.

"Well?" he asked encouragingly.

"Nothing!" said his wife, curtly, and moved to the window.

Here she leaned against the sash and looked at the narrow grey street

which was such a good address to impress tradesmen, and so expensive

to live in. Not that the question of rent troubled the pair. They paid

none, and would have been as much insulted, if visited on quarter-day,

as an Irish tenant. The Duke of Pentland at the time of their marriage

had presented them with the furnished "10, Curzon Street," but

hampered with certain restrictions. They could not sell it, or even

mortgage it, nor could money be raised on the furniture. The Duke paid

all rates and taxes, and saw to all repairs. Beyond dwelling in this

very desirable residence, and calling it publicly their home, Lord and

Lady Jim had no interest in it whatsoever. Both thought it was

ridiculous that they could not turn the Curzon Street house into

money, when they needed ready cash so badly.

And life was so hard to people of their standing and tastes. Leah came

of a bankrupt family, and had brought nothing to Jim but her own

clever, beautiful self. She considered the two thousand a year which

the Duke allowed his second son opulence, until she learned what

delightful things money could buy. Then Jim used a large amount of the

quarterly payments on his own account, and tradesmen would not give

her the delightful things without money. She certainly had bills in

nearly every shop in Bond Street and out of it, but even bills had to

be paid in the long run. The post brought a good many, and brought

also lawyers' letters, not pleasant to read. Between them, this happy

pair had mortgaged their income, and the money they had obtained was

all gone. Now they had no income and many bills. What was to be done?

This problem Jim had set Leah to solve, but clever as she knew herself

to be, the solution was beyond her.

"Can't you borrow, Jim?" she asked, turning gloomily from the window.

"Perhaps a fiver," was the prompt response; "every one's as mean as

mean. I've tried 'em all. And you?"

Leah shook her head.

"Twenty pounds, for all my asking."

"There's your godmother, old Lady Canvey," suggested Jim. "She's as

rich as Dives."

"And, like Dives, won't give a penny to this Lazarus. She smiles, and

talks epigrams, and preaches, but as to helping----" Leah shrugged her

shoulders again.

The action drew her husband's attention to a very magnificent figure

which was loudly admired. Jim had admired it himself before he had got

used to seeing it in the breakfast-room. Now it struck him that this

attraction might be turned into money.

"You're a ripping woman in the way of looks," he said, throwing down

the newspaper; "if you went on the stage--eh?"

"As the fairy queen?" inquired his wife, scornfully: "that's about all

I'm suited for. I know the things I can't do, Jim, and acting is one.

Besides, think of what the Duke would say."

Jim yawned, and lighted a cigarette.

"He can't say more than he has said," he remarked, lazily. "'Sides, I

never go to hear him preach, now."

"No; you send me."

"Why not? The Duke loves a pretty woman. You can twist him round your

little finger."

"I can't twist any money out of him," said Lady Jim, irritably.

"More's the pity. We're on the rocks----"

"You've said that twice already."

"An' I'll say it again and again and again," snapped Jim. "You don't

seem to realise the hole we're in."

"Don't I?" she queried, with an emotion she would never have shown in

society. "I realise that I have one sovereign; and you----?"

"Only a fiver I intend to borrow from a sure man," said Jim; "but I

say, what's to be done?"

"We must go through the court."

"What's the use of that? It'll only settle our debts. We want ready

money. I don't care a straw about the tradesmen. Can't we let this

house?"

"No; the Duke says we can live in it as long as we like, but if we

leave he'll take it back again."

"It's like giving a boy half a crown and telling him not to spend it,"

said Kaimes, looking round. "If we only could! It's a jolly sort of

room this, and we'd get a good rent for the house."

The room was indeed pretty, being decorated in a Pompadour manner. Its

walls were adorned with white paper, sprinkled with bunches of roses

tied with fluttering blue ribbons, and the carpet bore the same dainty

design. The furniture was of white wood, upholstered in brocade, also

diversified with roses and azure streamers. There were many delicate

water-colour pictures, a grate and fire-irons of polished brass, and

electric lights in rose-tinted globes. Even the grey December light

streaming in through the two windows could not make the apartment look

anything but clean, and delicate, and dainty, and delightful. It was

an ideal nest for a young couple. But this one had outlived the

honeymoon, and cared very little for the ideal.

"A very pretty room," said Jim, again; "and you're the prettiest thing

in it, Leah."

She looked at him scornfully, and then glanced around. "I hate all

this frippery" she said contemptuously. "Something more massive would

suit me better."

"Well, you are a kind of Cleopatra, y' know."

If Jim's historical knowledge had been more accurate, he would have

made a better comparison. Cleopatra, according to the latest

discoveries, was small, foxy-haired, and dainty. She would have suited

this Watteau-like room to perfection. But Lady Jim was as tall as any

daughter of the gods, and bore herself after the imperial style of

Juno, Queen of Olympus. Her hair was of a deep red, and she had a

great quantity, as those who saw her pose in charity tableaux knew

very well. Leah possessed the creamy complexion which usually goes

with such hair, and a pair of large blue eyes, out of which her soul

had never peered. They were hard eyes, shallow as those of a bird, and

surveyed the world and its denizens with the inquiring expression of a

cat on the look-out for titbits. Her lips were thin, and covered

admirably white and regular teeth. It was a clever face, and beautiful

in its serene immobility. Those who did not like Lady Jim called her a

cat; but she was more like a sleek, dangerous pantheress, and woe to

the victim who came under her claws. Yet she could purr very prettily

on occasions.

"Well, Jim," she said more graciously, for she was sufficiently a

woman to be pleased with her husband's grudging compliments. "Now that

you have finished saying sweet things, what next?"

"This business. We're on the----"

"Jim, if you say that again I'll leave you to get out of the trouble

yourself. You're my husband. Think of something."

"I can't--unless it's the insurance."

"The insurance," said Leah, thoughtfully; "twenty thousand pounds,

isn't it, Jim?"

Her husband nodded. "Old Jarvey Peel, my godfather, had my life

insured when I was a child, and arranged that his heirs should pay up

the money every year to keep it in force. Then there's accumulations

of sorts. I don't understand these stale things myself, Leah, but I

know that there's over twenty thousand."

"Can't you raise money on it?"

"No; the old man arranged that I should lose it if I tried that game.

Lord," said Jim, with disgust, "if I could have raised money I should

have got rid of it, ages ago."

"But how does it benefit you?" asked his wife, curiously; "if the

money is paid when you are dead, you won't have any fun. But I"--her

eyes gleamed.

"Oh no, you don't," snapped Jim, not at all pleased at this hint;

"you'd like to turn me into cash in that way, I know. But it so

happens that the twenty thousand, and whatever additions may have

come, will be paid to me when I'm sixty. Much fun in that, when I

shan't have teeth to crack nuts."

"You're over thirty now, Jim."

"Thirty-five, and you're only five years younger; so when we get the

cash at sixty there won't be any enjoyment left for either of us."

"Thirty-five from sixty," murmured Lady Jim. "Leaves how much, Jim?"

"Twenty-five," replied Kaimes, after wrinkling his brow and communing

with his none too quick brain. "Beastly long time to wait."

Leah nodded. "There's no chance of your getting it sooner?"

"Not the slightest. I can't get a cent on it, and I can't sell it, and

I can't use it in any way. Jarvey Peel was a silly old ass. Died worth

no end of coin, and didn't leave me a penny."

"But if you died, Jim?"

"Drop it," retorted Kaimes, who did not at all relish the suggestion.

"Well, but supposing you did?" insisted Leah.

"Then I 'spose the money would be paid to you," said Jim, kicking the

hearth-rug with a gloomy face; "but don't you make any mistake, Leah.

I'm goin' to live right on to sixty and handle the money. I can't do

much at that age, but I'll try hard to get through the lot before I

slip off."

"And what about me?"

"Oh, you must look after yourself," said Jim, heartlessly; "but

if you can think of some scheme to get the cash now, I'll give you

half--there now. There's nothing mean about me."

"What's the use of talking rubbish?" said Lady Jim, crossly; "you

won't die."

"Not to oblige you, my dear, so don't think it."

"Then don't let us talk any more of the impossible."

"Is it impossible?" asked Kaimes, cunningly.

Leah looked at him with wide, bright eyes. "What is it?" she asked.

"I might _pretend_ to die, you know," said Jim, looking at her very

directly; "then the cash 'ud be paid to you, and we could share."

"But it's ridiculous," cried Leah, raising her eyebrows; "you would

have to give up your position and disappear."

"Who cares? You know I never stop longer in England than I can help.

As to my position, it's all debts and duns, and squabbling with you.

Oh, I'd give up the whole thing for the money!"

"You never think of me."

"Got enough to do to think of myself," grumbled Kaimes; "'sides, you

don't care for me. As a widow you could have lots of fun on--on,

say--five thousand."

"That's right, Jim, take the lion's share to yourself."

"Well, shouldn't I be paying the largest price for getting the cash?"

Leah shrugged her shoulders again. "There would be very little

sacrifice in it so far as you are concerned," she said. "You've been

three times to South America since we were married, and I presume with

this money you would go there again."

"I'd go out of your life for ever."

"Oh, well," she said coolly; "I could show my respect to your memory

by wearing a widow's dress. I expect I should look rather nice in a

cap."

Lord Jim was rather disgusted. Little as he loved his wife, he

expected her to be devotedly attached to him, and her ready

acquiescence in his disappearance annoyed him greatly.

"You've got no heart."

"How clever of you to guess that! I gave it to you five years ago."

"And took it back before the honeymoon was over."

"Well, you see, Jim, you are so careless a man that I could not think

of leaving the only heart I possess in your hands. Besides, so many

women have given you their hearts that I thought you might confuse the

lot."

Lord Jim did not like this banter, and said so in a few forcible

words. Then he moved to the door, casting a disgusted look at a pile

of bills on Leah's side of the table.

"What about this truck?"

"Oh, we'll pay them out of your insurance," laughed Lady Jim.

"Not much. I'm not going to disappear and give up everything for the

benefit of a lot of measly tradesmen."

"I wish you wouldn't dangle grapes out of my reach," said his wife,

pettishly; "you know it's not to be done."

Jim plunged forward, and, gathering up the mass of papers, threw them

into the fire. "Pay them in this way, then," said he, enraged.

"I wish I could," sighed Leah, wearily, and looked at herself in the

mirror. "Do stop worrying me, Jim. I'm getting to look quite old. Are

you going out?"

"Yes. We've wasted an hour in talking about nothing. We're on the

rocks, I tell you."

"And so," said Lady Jim, calmly, "you end where you began."

Jim looked up to heaven. "And this is a wife!" said he, plaintively.

"And this," she mocked, laying her hand on his shoulder, "is a

probable bankrupt!"

"Not me. I'll clear out first to South America."

"Leave the insurance money to me, Jim," called Leah, as he banged the

door. "Twenty thousand pounds," she soliloquised--"it's worth trying

for. But I might as well cry for the moon"; and she sighed, the sigh

of selfishness, unexpectedly thwarted.

Lady Jim of Curzon Street: A Novel · 第 1 / 35 章