"Oh, Lou, you can't think what a life it is," he cried impetuously.
"Why, Harry, it ought to be a very pleasant one."
"What, with your nose over an account book, and every time you happen to
look up, old Crampton staring at you as much as to say, `Why don't you
go on?'"
"Never mind, dear. Try and think that it is for your good."
"For my good!" he said with a mocking laugh.
"Yes, and to please father. Why, Harry dear, is it not something to
have a chance to redeem your character?"
"Redeem my grandmother! I've never lost it. Why, Lou, it's too bad.
Here's father rich as a Jew, and Uncle Luke with no end of money."
"Has he, Harry?" said Louise thoughtfully. "Really I don't know."
"I'm sure he has--lots. A jolly old miser, and no one to leave it to;
and I don't see then why I should be ground down to work like an
errand-boy."
"Don't make a sentimental grievance of it, dear, but go and do your duty
like a man."
"If I do my duty like a man I shall go and try to recover the French
estates which my father neglects."
"No, don't do that, dear; go and get my old school spelling-book and
read the fable of the dog and the shadow."
"There you go, sneering again. You women can't understand a fellow.
Here am I worried to death for money, and have to drudge as old Van
Heldre's clerk."
"Worried for money, Harry? What nonsense!"
"I am. You don't know. I say, Lou dear."
"Now, Harry! you will be so late."
"I won't go at all if you don't listen to me. Look here; I want fifty
pounds."
"What for?"
"Never mind. Will you lend it to me?"
"But what can you want with fifty pounds, Harry? You're not in debt?"
"You've got some saved up. Now, lend it to me, there's a good girl;
I'll pay you again, honour bright."
"Harry, I've lent you money till I'm tired of lending, and you never do
pay me back."
"But I will this time."
Louise shook her head.
"What, you don't believe me?"
"I believe you would pay me again if you had the money; but if I lent it
you would spend it, and be as poor as ever in a month."
"Not this time, Lou. Lend it to me."
She shook her head.
"Then hang me if I don't go and ask Duncan Leslie."
"Harry! No; you would not degrade yourself to that."
"Will you lend it?"
"No."
"Then I will ask him. The poor fool will think it will please you, and
lend it directly. I'll make it a hundred whilst I'm about it."
"Harry!"
"Too late now," he cried, and he hurried away.
"Oh!" ejaculated Louise, as she stood gazing after him with her cheeks
burning.
"No," she said, after a pause; "it was only a threat; he would not
dare."
"Harry gone to his office?" said Vine, entering the room. "Yes, dear."
"Mr Pradelle gone too?"
"Yes, dear; fishing, I think."
"Hum. Makes this house quite his home."
"Yes, papa; and do you think we are doing right?"
"Eh?" said Vine sharply, as he dragged his mind back from where it had
gone under a tide-covered rock. "Oh, I see, about having that young man
here. Well, Louie, it's like this: I don't want to draw the rein too
tightly. Harry is at work now, and keeping to it. Van Heldre says his
conduct is very fair. Harry likes Mr Pradelle, and they are old
companions, so I feel disposed to wink at the intimacy, so long as our
boy keeps to his business."
"Perhaps you are right, dear," said Louise.
"You don't like Mr Pradelle, my dear?"
"No, I do not."
"No fear of his robbing me of you, eh?"
"Oh, father!"
"That's right; that's right; and look here, as we're talking about that
little thing which makes the world go round, please understand this, and
help me, my dear. There's to be no nonsense between Harry and
Madelaine."
"Then you don't like Madelaine?"
"Eh? What? Not like her? Bless her! You've almost cause to be
jealous, only you need not be, for I've room in my heart for both of
you. I love her too well to let her be made uncomfortable by our family
scapegrace. Dear me! I'm sure that it has."
"Have you lost anything, dear?"
"Yes, a glass stopper. Perhaps I left it in my room. Mustn't lose it;
stoppers cost money."
"And here's some money of yours, father."
"Eh? Oh, that change."
"Twenty-five shillings."
"Put it on the chimney-piece, my clear; I'll take it presently. We will
not be hard on Harry. Let him have his companion. We shall get him
round by degrees. Ah, here comes some one to tempt you away."
In effect Madelaine was passing the window on her way to the front
entrance; but Vine forgot all about his glass stopper for the moment,
and threw open the glass door.
"Come in here, my clear," he said. "We were just talking about you."
"About me, Mr Vine? Whatever were you saying?"
"Slander of course, of course."
"My father desired to be kindly remembered, and I was to say, `Very
satisfactory so far?'"
"Very satisfactory so far?" said Vine dreamily.
"He said you would know what it meant."
"To be sure--to be sure. Louie, my dear, I'm afraid your aunt is right.
My brain is getting to be like that of a jelly-fish."
He nodded laughingly and left the room.
"Did you meet Harry as you came?" said Louise, as soon as they were
alone.
"Yes; but he kept on one side of the street, and I was on the other."
"Didn't he cross over to speak?"
"No; he couldn't see the Dutch fraulein--the Dutch doll."
"Oh, that's cruel, Maddy. I did not think my aunt's words could sting
you."
"Well, sometimes I don't think they do, but at others they seem to
rankle. But look, isn't that Mr Pradelle coming?"
For answer Louise caught her friend's hand to hurry her out of the room
before Pradelle entered.
Volume 1, Chapter XI.