“The jewels, I see, do not interest you,” he exclaimed; “but I must tell you something about your father’s income.”
The abstracted young man turned a pair of steady eyes on the descendant of a Portuguese free lance and nodded assent.
“Mércèdes made her will in a tantrum; she had made and revoked dozens. However, as she was suddenly cut off, this one had to stand. She left me, her sole heir, a fine present income—everything at your father’s death. He has a thousand pounds a year as long as he lives, or until he marries, and up till now the money is thrown away and wasted; it goes to blood-suckers and hangers-on in hundreds—to every one but the owner. When he has one of his bad attacks, he will draw a cheque for the asking. Unprincipled tradespeople have sent in accounts for articles that have never come here. There are, however, four hundred military saddles in one of the lumber-rooms, and about nine hundred pairs of long jack-boots. He raises a regiment, you see, when he is not in one of his melancholy fits. A great deal of money sticks to Fuzzil’s greasy palms.”
“So I should suppose; but that is over.”
“There is a leper village chiefly supported by the major in his lucid intervals. The beggars and lepers assemble on Sunday for their alms. It is a great charity.”
“Yes; which is more than we can say for Fuzzil”—with a mechanical smile.
“Well, I am off to-morrow; my wife is expecting me,” continued Cardozo, briskly.
“Then you are married!” exclaimed the other, with unqualified surprise.
“No, I don’t look it, do I? But I married when I was eighteen—the more fool I!—to a pretty little girl you could almost blow away. Yes; and now she weighs sixteen stone. She has very bad health, and seldom goes out, though I keep a fine carriage and horses for her. She does not care for anything much, as long as she has her priest, her doctor, her woman cronies, who tell her all the gossip, and her coffee. Oh, she is very particular about her coffee. She is not fond of clothes, or jewellery, or show; indeed, poor woman, she is too unwieldy to dress and go about. Now, I am a society man;” and he threw himself back with a smile of extravagant superiority. “I go round looking after the property, I run up to Mussouri often, I have plenty of friends. I do a little betting, I play billiards, I am passionately fond of dancing. I appreciate a good dinner and a pretty woman—and pretty women appreciate me. Oh yes!”
He half closed his eyes, and puffed and blinked alternately, with an air of ineffable content. It was all that his vis-à-vis could do to keep his countenance; indeed, he was not entirely successful.