CHAPTER III.
The house of Clifford, as already hinted, was one of the most important in the town. The numerous staff of clerks and attendants, and the constant activity which reigned there, betrayed even to a stranger the importance of the great mercantile house, whose head, indeed, held a most conspicuous place in the commercial world. Gustave Sandow, who, though now holding the modest post of a volunteer, was destined later to share that dignity, had now entered on his new calling, but showed so far very little enthusiasm for it. His brother noticed with great displeasure that he looked on the whole thing as a kind of entertainment with which he amused himself, and of which the chief attraction was its novelty. He allowed little indeed to be seen of the austere dignity of the future partner, while he made extensive use of his freedom as a volunteer. The various objects of interest in the town, its environs, its society, seemed far more attractive to him than his brother's office. The latter remarked on it in his usual sharp manner, and requested that more interest might be shown in business matters.
Gustave acknowledged in every respect the justice of his brother's observations, but continued as regularly to do what pleased him best, and offered to all reproaches the declaration that at present he was only a guest, and must be allowed to make himself at home in his new surroundings.
Between himself and Miss Clifford had arisen a curious, half antagonistic, half confidential relation. On the whole they were always prepared for war, and Jessie did her best to maintain that state of affairs. But it was difficult enough, for her adversary displayed such unwearying politeness and amiability as left her few occasions for the contrary. The certainly not very flattering estimate of his character which had been forced upon him in the very first hour of their acquaintanceship had obviously affected him very little. On his side he was full of attentions, with which he managed to mingle very adroitly the friendly confidence of a household companion, and Jessie saw with horror the courtship from which she had considered herself entirely free deliberately unfolded before her.
It was morning, about a week after the arrival of the new acquaintance. Breakfast was just over. Gustave was giving Miss Clifford a sketch of some of his travelling experiences, which he did with such sparkling animation and such vivid colouring as enchained Jessie's attention against her will.
Sandow, on the other hand, was occupied in looking for some business papers in his pocket-book, and listened only with half an ear.
When his brother had finished, he said satirically--
"One would really believe that you had undertaken the journey merely to find materials for some future article on the political or artistic views entertained here. Landscape, architecture, national life, you have lost no opportunities of studying, but the business you should have made the main interest is scarcely alluded to. You certainly went everywhere that my introductions would take you, but seem only to have dined with the firms and talked about politics afterwards."
"You surely did not expect us to take our business to table with us!" cried Gustave. "That is a pleasure which only you provide for your guests. I believe you would hail it as a most blessed discovery if eating and sleeping could be dispensed with altogether. What an incalculable gain in hours of business for much-tormented mankind!"
Jessie cast a half terrified glance at her guardian. She knew that this was a very tender point with him. Gustave knew it too, yet every day he ventured on such remarks to his face. He understood most perfectly how to parry the masterful and sometimes offensive manner of his brother, so that he never allowed himself to appear corrected or in any way subordinate.
Sandow, whose strength did not lie in repartee, generally quitted the field when he began in that tone of mockery. So he now rose, and, closing his pocket-book, sarcastically replied--
"Well, you certainly do not belong to the much-tormented class; you take your life easily enough. But I want to speak to you for a few minutes in my room before we go to the office. It concerns the New York affair."
"I will come immediately," returned his brother, who, however, remained calmly seated while the other left the room, and then, turning to Jessie, asked--
"Have you ever seen such a business maniac as my brother, Miss Clifford? At breakfast he makes business notes, at dinner he reads the money article, and I am convinced that he speculates in his dreams."
"Yes, he possesses a most untiring activity," replied Jessie, "and he looks for the same thing in other people. You should not keep him waiting, for I am sure he wants to speak to you particularly."
Gustave paid not the least attention to this broad hint to depart.
"It concerns Jenkins and Co. That agreeable firm actually besieges us with letters and telegrams respecting a common speculation. I am not at all in a hurry to talk about it, and my brother is very considerate when he knows I am with you."
That was unquestionably the case. For various reasons Sandow favoured in every way the growing intimacy between his brother and his ward, and even would go so far as to forgive a want of punctuality occasionally.
The hint to this effect was, however, very ungraciously received by the young lady. She thought best to maintain perfect silence.
"Besides that, I have a great desire to speak to you alone," continued Gustave. "For several days I have sought an opportunity in vain."
An icy, long-drawn "Indeed!" was the only reply.
So really after an acquaintanceship of scarcely a week, this man dared to approach her with his proposals, in spite of her distant demeanour, her plainly shown aversion. In spite of all he would try to complete the business contract which gave him the hand of the rich heiress, and still worse, with an easy assurance as if undeniably in the right.
"I have a petition to offer," he began afresh, "a petition which, by granting you will make me for ever your debtor."
Miss Clifford looked as if carved out of stone, and her manner left no doubt that she had not the slightest intention of placing him "for ever in her debt." She summoned all her energies together to meet the approaching emergency with the necessary decision.
Gustave paid not the least attention to her, and continued with his usual genial smile--
"It concerns a young countrywoman of mine!"
"A--young countrywoman?" repeated Jessie, astonished to the last degree at the unexpected turn which the conversation had taken.
"Yes, a young German who came over in the same ship with me. She was going quite alone to a relative in New York, who had offered the orphan a home with him. On landing, however, she learnt that he had died a few days before, and the poor child found herself quite unprotected and forsaken in the New World."
"You took charge of her," remarked Jessie, with a certain sharpness.
"Certainly; I took her to a German family, where she could be received for a few days. But she cannot stay there long, and it must be a very difficult thing for a girl of scarcely sixteen, and without an introduction, to find a situation as governess or companion. Here in this town it might be more feasible, especially if a well-known house such as yours undertook to introduce her. My petition is this, will you receive this young girl for a few weeks as a guest till something may be found for her?"
Generally Jessie was only too ready to help whenever it lay in her power, and a countrywoman of her mother's had naturally every claim upon her sympathy, but the side from which the demand came caused it to fill her with the darkest suspicions. In her eyes Gustave Sandow was not the man to help any fellow-creature from pure philanthropy. Such an egoist must certainly have other motives for his actions, and she returned a very cautious answer.
"This takes me quite by surprise. I am to receive a total stranger, who, as you acknowledge, is entirely destitute of introductions?"
"I undertake the responsibility," cried Gustave eagerly. "Any security you can desire I will give."
"Oh, indeed!"
A light began to dawn upon her. She saw the dreaded offer vanish into the distance. A way of escape which she had never thought of suddenly opened before her.
"You seem to know your protégée very thoroughly, Mr. Sandow, and to take an extraordinary interest in her."
"Certainly I do. Towards an orphan that is the duty of every Christian."
"I was not aware that you were such a good Christian," said Jessie, with unconcealed irony.
"Then, Miss Clifford, you have misunderstood me in that as in so many other respects. Where humanity is concerned my opinions are in the highest degree Christian," declared Sandow solemnly.
Jessie's lips curled scornfully at the word "humanity," but the thing began to interest her, so she asked--
"Then you wish for an invitation to our house for"--
"Miss Frida Palm, that is her name."
"I will speak to my guardian about it, and if he is willing"--
"Oh! pray do not; that is just what I am most anxious to avoid," interrupted Gustave. "I do not wish my brother to know anything of my appeal to you. Would it not be possible to give out that Miss Palm is a protégée of your own, recommended by some New York acquaintance, and whom you have agreed to receive? The suggestion is rather singular, I see that in your manner, so I place myself and my petition entirely in your hands."
Jessie's manner certainly showed how surprised she was. She bent on the speaker a long, searching look.
"Indeed, a very extraordinary demand. You really ask that we should literally perform a comedy, in order that you may gain a point with my guardian! With what object?"
"Certainly with no bad object, even if for the present that must remain my secret."
"Your secret is not hard to guess, at least for me," said Jessie sarcastically, but still with a feeling of intense relief at the turn things had taken. "Only acknowledge openly that your interest in this young lady is a much deeper and more serious one than appears, and that you have a decided object to gain in bringing her here."
Apparently overwhelmed, Gustave drooped his head.
"I acknowledge it."
"And for more than one reason you fear that your brother will be opposed to this interest."
"I allow that too."
"Therefore Miss Palm is to appear unacknowledged in our house, that, through her personal qualities she may gain sympathy and consideration, until you may venture to declare the truth."
"Miss Clifford, you have incredible penetration," said Gustave, in the tone of deepest admiration. "It is quite impossible to hide anything from you. Now that you have so completely seen through me, may I reckon on your support?"
The young lady assumed a very dignified manner.
"I have never yet condescended to an untruth, and would never do it if"--
She stopped, and a passing blush tinged her cheek.
"If it were not for certain plans of my brother's," added Gustave. "You do not agree with them; that I saw on the day of my arrival. But just on that account you need not fear that I have any doubt as to the reasons of your confederacy. They are certainly not flattering to me, but in this instance decidedly advantageous."
"Advantageous!" echoed Jessie, in a contemptuous tone. "Quite right; that is sufficient for you. You fear a breach with your brother if you make a choice without his consent, and, as far as I know him, this would be the case since your choice has fallen on a poor and friendless orphan. It is certainly advantageous if you try to gain your end by circuitous means. But how much more manly it would be to go to your brother and openly declare your love, bidding defiance to his anger. But on such points our ideas are quite opposed. Let Miss Palm know that I shall expect her. She can start immediately on receiving your letter."
"That is not at all necessary," replied Gustave calmly. "I have already written to her; she is on her way, and this afternoon will arrive here."
This was rather too strong for Jessie. She looked at the daring visitor with disdain.
"So that was already decided. You are very considerate, Mr. Sandow."
"I reckoned on your good heart," he assured her, with a deep bow.
"You reckoned far more on your brother's plans, which have, half against my will, made me your confederate. So be it then. I will do my best to afford you the advantage of maintaining a good understanding with your brother. As soon as your fiancée arrives, bring her to me, and for the present she shall pass as my protégée."
And, with a very cold and distant bow, Jessie swept from the room.
Gustave looked after her with a very peculiar smile on his lips.
"Every inch contempt! But it suits her splendidly. Certainly I play a very pitiful part in the story; that, however, is nothing; if Frida can only make good her footing in the house, that is the point."
In her room Jessie walked about in violent excitement. She was really rejoiced that the dreaded suitor should in this way prove himself perfectly harmless, and that he himself lent a hand to the destruction of the hated marriage scheme; but that did not in the least diminish her indignation at the selfishness and avarice of the man who had displayed anew all the meanness of his character. Yet he loved, this man, and apparently truly and disinterestedly. Just on the way to the wealthy, unloved bride, whom his brother had so carefully selected for him, a young, forsaken, unprotected orphan had succeeded in awakening a real affection in his heart. What hindered him, then, from introducing his chosen bride to his brother? And if Sandow really showed himself obstinate and unreasonable, he might then return with her to Germany. He had occupied an independent position there, which would be immediately open to him again, and which would permit him to marry without the consent of his brother. But then his chance of that brother's wealth would be in jeopardy, and at any price that rich inheritance must be secured. Therefore the affianced bride must be content to play the part of a stranger, all kinds of underhand modes of gaining his end would be attempted, and a regular intrigue set on foot in order to wheedle the rich brother to consent, and if, in spite of all, he persisted in a decided refusal--and Jessie knew that her guardian, who always measured men by the length of their purses, would never welcome a poor sister-in-law--then, no doubt, the daring champion of the Ideal would choose the money, and leave the bride in the lurch, as he had already deserted his profession.
Jessie's frank and open disposition rose in rebellion against the part forced on her; yet she felt it necessary to forward this union by every means in her power. She would at any cost avoid a serious struggle with her guardian. It was to a certain extent an act of necessity if she agreed to the proposal. Should they really succeed in gaining Sandow's consent then the threatening storm would pass completely away.
It was remarkable that the one thing in Gustave's favour--his evident capacity for true love--was also the one thing most obnoxious to Jessie. She had so bitterly reproached him for yielding so unresistingly to the business calculations of his brother, and now, when she learnt that in his heart he had thwarted, and wished entirely to defeat those plans, she was more prejudiced against him than ever. She was thoroughly convinced that this man was only worthy of contempt, and that she felt sure of always, and under all circumstances, bestowing upon him.