"It is the fashion to call them common lives," responded Dr. Perriera, "though here and there is a life which an angel would be proud to live."
[CHAPTER XXXIV.]
Some three months after this night a gentleman was sitting with a friend in a well-appointed house in Harley Street. The host was a man in the prime of life, his name Hollingworth; the guest was his elder in years, his name Manners--none other than the once great contractor--Mr. Valentine Manners, Kingsley's father. They had dined, and were sitting over their claret.
Mr. Valentine Manners had long since retired from business. For many years he had travelled the world in search of something--he knew not what--which he had lost, and had returned home without finding it. Part of the time his nephew, Mark Inglefield, who was to be his heir, had travelled with him; but the younger man had made periodical visits to England upon his uncle's private affairs, of which he had the practical management. A fortune so vast as Mr. Valentine Manners had amassed was in itself a business, the care of which occupied a great deal of time.
Mr. Hollingworth and his guest had discussed many matters, the most important of which was a proposed marriage between Mr. Hollingworth's only daughter, Beatrice, and Mark Inglefield, the rich contractor's heir. The girl was barely twenty, Mark Inglefield nearly fifty; but these disparities are not uncommon in matrimonial unions in which money and not love is the principal factor. Mr. Hollingworth had only one other child, a son of twenty-six, who had just been elected a member of the House of Commons. The conversation of the two gentlemen was interrupted by the announcement of a servant that a man wished to see Mr. Hollingworth.
The tone of the servant when he uttered the words "a man" was a sufficient indication of his opinion of the visitor's standing. Mr. Hollingworth accepted his servant's opinion.
"Did you say I was busy?"
"I told him so, sir, and that you could not be disturbed."
"Well?"
"He said he must see you, sir, and that he would come every day and night till he did." Mr. Hollingworth groaned. "Did he give you his name?"