Toilers of Babylon: A Novel

by B. L. Farjeon

In the passage he lingered a few moments, wrestling with an inward urging to visit the room which Kingsley used to occupy, and which was situated on the floor above. With something of his old masterfulness he wheeled suddenly round, and returned to his own apartment. There, however, the desire manifested itself more strongly, and yielding to it he soon found himself in Kingsley's room, which he had not visited since the day on which he had conducted Nansie thither, with the endeavor to impress upon her the great sacrifice which she would force Kingsley to make if she did not herself take steps to separate from him. Here, again, Mr. Manners was confronted with accusing testimony, for, from surrounding evidence, he saw that his wife had been in the habit of sitting in this room, and frequently occupying it after their son's departure. These signs of suppressed suffering, of anguish borne in silence, could not fail to impress him; nor could he fail to be impressed by the once familiar objects in which Kingsley took pride. The books, the bed, the articles of taste and value, the pipes, even some bits of jewelry--it seemed as if nothing had been removed or disturbed. Mr. Manners was both surprised and touched; these things were Kingsley's own, and he might have taken them and converted them into money, which the father knew had been sadly needed. "Kingsley was never mercenary," thought Mr. Manners, with a pitiful smile of mingled pride and humiliation. "The soul of honor and generosity!"

He returned again to his room, and had not been in it a minute before he heard the sound of a step on the stairs. He threw open the door, and Mark Inglefield appeared.

"I hardly knew whether you would be home so early," said the expectant heir. "Did you leave Mr. Hollingworth well?"

The object of Mr. Manners's visit to that gentleman was, of course, known to Mark Inglefield, who looked upon this day as the red-letter day of his life. In the event of Mr. Manners arranging the marriage between him and Mr. Hollingworth's daughter, all anxiety for the future was at an end. Mr. Manners had promised to make at once a settlement upon him which would place him above all the chances and caprices of fickle fortune. For some time past he had found the ties which bound him to his patron irksome and disagreeable; he was hardly his own master; and to all the hints he had thrown out that he might fairly claim to be placed in a more independent position, Mr. Manners had replied:

"Wait till you are settled."

It was, indeed, this consideration that had impelled him to urge on the marriage. He had as little true love for Miss Hollingworth as the young lady had for him. She plays no part in this story, but it is necessary to say that she was a thoroughly worldly young person, with a full appreciation of the worldly advantage of marrying the heir of a millionaire. In their matrimonial views, therefore, she and Mark Inglefield were on an equality; the marriage into which they were willing to enter was a marriage of convenience, and they were content to leave the preliminaries in the hands of their elders.

Mark Inglefield put on an air of anxiety as he asked Mr. Manners if he had left Mr. Hollingworth well. He knew the exact value of his part in the projected alliance, but he had represented to Mr. Manners that his heart was deeply engaged, and he labored under the belief that he had succeeded in throwing dust into his patron's eyes. Mark Inglefield had a remarkable opinion of his own capacity and capabilities, and, during his long relations with Mr. Manners, had grown extremely confident of himself and his powers, and somewhat scornful of Mr. Manners's force of character. The reason for this was that the two men never came into collision; their opinions never clashed. This might have occurred in the early years of their association had not Mark Inglefield tutored himself into complete subservience to a will which he had reason to know was imperious; but as time wore on Mr. Manners's interest in the affairs of life grew weaker, and Mark Inglefield made the mistake of attributing this indifference to failing mental power. Hence the growing scorn of his patron's character, which, once respected and feared, he now held in small esteem.

"Mr. Hollingworth is well in health," said Mr. Manners. Mark Inglefield detected nothing significant in the tone, and was not in the least disturbed.

"I hope the interview was satisfactory," he said.

"Not entirely," replied Mr. Manners.