The Three Clerks Part 67

'You need not trouble yourself to do that,' said Mrs. Val. 'I shall see him myself before long.'

'It will be no trouble,' said Gertrude, very indignantly, for she was very angry, and had, as she thought, great cause for anger.

'I shall certainly think it my duty to do so after what has pa.s.sed. Of course you will now take steps to relieve him as soon as possible.'

'You have taken me up a great deal too quick, my dear,' said Mrs.

Val. 'I did not intend----'

'Oh--one can't be too quick on such a matter as this,' said Gertrude. 'When confidence is once lost between two persons it is better that the connexion which has grown out of confidence should be put an end to as soon as possible.'

'Lost confidence! I said nothing about lost confidence!'

'Alaric will so understand it, I am quite sure; at any rate I will tell him what you have said. Suspicion indeed! who has dared to suspect him of anything not honest or upright?'

Gertrude's eyes flashed with anger as she vindicated her absent lord. Mrs. Val had been speaking with bated breath, so that no one had heard her but she to whom she was speaking; but Gertrude had been unable so to confine her answers, and as she made her last reply Madame Jaquetanape and the Misses Neverbend were all ears.

'Ha, ha, ha!' laughed Mrs. Val. 'Upon my word, my dear, it is amusing to hear you take it up. However, I a.s.sure you I meant nothing but what was kind and friendly. Come, Clementina, we have been sitting here a most unconscionable time. Will you allow me, my dear, to ring for my carriage?'

'Mamma,' said Clem, 'have you asked Mrs. Tudor to our little dance?'

'No, my dear; I have left that for you to do. It's your party, you know--but I sincerely hope Mrs. Tudor will come.'

'Oh yes,' said Clementina, the tongue of whose eloquence was now loosened. 'You must come, Mrs. Tudor; indeed you must. It will be so charming; just a few nice people, you know, and nothing more.'

'Thank you,' said Gertrude; 'but I never dance now.' She had inwardly resolved that nothing should ever induce her again to enter Mrs. Val's house.

'Oh, but you must come,' said Clementina. 'It will be so charming. We only mean to dance one kind of dance--that new thing they have just brought over from Spain--the Contrabandista. It is a polka step, only very quick, and you take every other turn by yourself; so you have to take your partner up and let him go as quick as possible. You don't know how charming it is, and it will be all the rage. We are to have the music out in the street, just as they have in Spain.'

'It would be much too difficult for me,' said Gertrude.

'It is difficult,' said the enthusiastic Clem; 'but Victoire gives us lessons in it everyday from twelve to two--doesn't he, Ugolina?'

'I'm afraid I shouldn't have time to go to school,' said Gertrude.

'Oh, it doesn't take much time--six or seven or eight lessons will do it pretty well. I have almost learnt it already, and Ugolina is coming on very fast. Lactimel is not quite so perfect.

She has learnt the step, but she cannot bring herself to let Victoire go quick enough. Do come, and bring Mr. Tudor with you.'

'As he has not to attend from ten till four, he could come and take lessons too,' said Lactimel, who, now that she was no longer a hanger-on of Gertrude's, could afford to have her little revenge.

'That would be delightful,' said Clem. 'Mr. Charles Tudor does come in sometimes at twelve o'clock, and I think he does it almost as well as Victoire.'

Gertrude, however, would go neither to the rehearsals nor to the finished performance; and as Mrs. Val's men had by this time been induced to leave the beershop, the whole party went away, leaving Gertrude to her meditations.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI

TICKLISH STOCK

Alaric returned from his office worn and almost as wretched as he had been on the day before. He had spent a miserable day. In the morning Sir Gregory had asked him whether he had finally made up his mind to address the electors of Strathbogy. 'No, not finally,' said Alaric, 'but I think I shall do so.'

'Then I must tell you, Tudor,' said Sir Gregory, speaking more in sorrow than in anger, 'that you will not have my countenance. I cannot but think also that you are behaving with ingrat.i.tude.'

Alaric prepared to make some petulant answer, but Sir Gregory, in the meantime, left the room.

Every one was falling away from him. He felt inclined to rush after Sir Gregory, and promise to be guided in this matter solely by him, but his pride prevented him: though he was no longer sanguine and confident as he had been a week ago, still his ambition was high. 'Those who play brag must brag it out, or they will lose their money.' This had been said by Undy; but it was not the less true on that account. Alaric felt that he was playing brag, and that his only game was to brag it out.

He walked home slowly through the Parks. His office and house were so circ.u.mstanced that, though they were some two miles distant, he could walk from one to the other almost without taking his feet off the gra.s.s. This had been the cause of great enjoyment to him; but now he sauntered on with his hands behind his back, staring straight before him, with fixed eyes, going by his accustomed route, but never thinking for a moment where he was. The tune was gone when he could watch the gambols of children, smile at the courtships of nursery-maids, watch the changes in the dark foliage of the trees, and bend from his direct path hither and thither to catch the effects of distant buildings, and make for his eye half-rural landscapes in the middle of the metropolis. No landscapes had beauty for him now; the gambols even of his own baby were unattractive to him; leaves might bud forth and nourish and fall without his notice. How went the share-market? that was the only question that had an interest for him. The dallyings of Capel Court were the only courtships that he now cared to watch.

And with what a terribly eager eye had he now to watch them! If his shares went up quickly, at once, with an unprecedented success, he might possibly be saved. That was all. But if they did not--! Such was the phase of life under which at the present moment it behoved him to exist.

And then, when he reached his home, how was he welcomed? With all the fond love which a loving wife can show; so much at least was his; but before he had felt the sweetness of her caresses, before he had acknowledged how great was the treasure that he possessed, forth from her eager lips had come the whole tale of Mrs. Val's impertinence.

'I will never see her again, Alaric! never; she talked of her daughter's money, and said something of suspicion!' Suspicion!

Gertrude's eye again flashed fire with anger; and she all but stamped with her little foot upon the ground. Suspicion! suspect him, her husband, the choice of her heart, her Alaric, the human G.o.d whom she worshipped! suspect him of robbery! her lord, her heart, her soul, the strong staff on which she leaned so securely, with such true feminine confidence! Suspect him of common vile dishonesty!--'You will never ask me to see her again --will you, Alaric?'

What was he to say to her? how was he to bear this? His heart yearned to tell her all; he longed for the luxury of having one bosom to whom he could entrust his misery, his slight remaining hope. But how could he himself, at one blow, by one word, destroy the high and polished shaft on which she whom he loved had placed him? He could not do it. He would suffer by himself; hope by himself, cease to hope by himself, and endure all, till either his sufferings or his hopes should be over.

He had to pretend that he was indignant at Mrs. Val's interference; he had to counterfeit the feelings of outraged honour, which was so natural to Gertrude. This he failed to do well. Had he been truly honest--had that woman's suspicion really done him injustice--he would have received his wife's tidings with grave displeasure, and have simply resolved to acquit himself as soon as possible of the disagreeable trust which had been reposed in him. But such was not now his conduct. He contented himself by calling Mrs. Val names, and pretended to laugh at her displeasure.

'But you will give up this trust, won't you?' said Gertrude.

'I will think about it,' said he. 'Before I do anything I must consult old Figgs. Things of that kind can't be put out of their course by the spleen of an old woman like Mrs. Val.'

'Oh, Alaric, I do so wish you had had nothing to do with these Scotts!'

'So do I,' said he, bitterly; 'I hate them--but, Gertrude, don't talk about them now; my head aches, and I am tired.'

He sat at home the whole evening; and though he was by no means gay, and hardly affectionate in his demeanour to her, yet she could not but feel that some good effect had sprung from his recent dislike to the Scotts, since it kept him at home with her.

Lately he had generally spent his evenings at his club. She longed to speak to him of his future career, of his proposed seat in Parliament, of his office-work; but he gave her no encouragement to speak of such things, and, as he pleaded that he was ill, she left him in quiet on the sofa.

On the next morning he again went to his office, and in the course of the morning a note was brought to him from Undy. It ran as follows:--

'MY DEAR TUDOR,

'Is Val to have the shares? Let me have a line by the bearer.

'Yours ever,

'U. S.'

To this he replied by making an appointment to meet Undy before dinner at his own office.

At the time fixed Undy came, and was shown by the sole remaining messenger into Alaric's private room. The two shook hands together in their accustomed way. Undy smiled good-humouredly, as he always did; and Alaric maintained his usual composed and uncommunicative look.

'Well,' said Undy, sitting down, 'how about those shares?'

'I am glad you have come,' said Alaric, 'because I want to speak to you with some earnestness.'

'I am quite in earnest myself,' said Undy; 'and so, by G--, is Val. I never saw a fellow more in earnest--nor yet apparently more hard up. I hope you have the shares ready, or else a cheque for the amount.'