CHAPTER XIII.
Unhappy is the man who puts his trust in a woman.
Late that evening a lady, in a black veil, knocked at No.—Gloucester Place, and asked to see Mrs. Haughton on urgent business. She was admitted. She remained but five minutes.
The next day when, “gay as a bridegroom prancing to his bride,” Jasper Losely presented himself at the widow’s door, the servant placed in his hand a packet, and informed him bluffly that Mrs. Haughton had gone out of town. Jasper with difficulty suppressed his rage, opened the packet,—his own letters returned, with these words, “Sir, your name is not Courtenay Smith. If you trouble me again, I shall apply to the police.” Never from female hand had Jasper Losely’s pride received such a slap on its face. He was literally stunned. Mechanically he hastened to Arabella Crane; and having no longer any object in concealment, but, on the contrary, a most urgent craving for sympathy, he poured forth his indignation and wrongs. No mother could be more consolatory than Mrs. Crane. She soothed, she flattered, she gave him an excellent dinner; after which, she made him so comfortable, what with an easy-chair and complimentary converse, that, when Jasper rose late to return to his lodging, he said, “After all, if I had been ugly and stupid, and of a weakly constitution, I should have been of a very domestic turn of mind.”
CHAPTER XIV.
No author ever drew a character consistent to human nature, but what
he was forced to ascribe to it many inconsistencies.
Whether moved by that pathetic speech of Jasper’s, or by some other impulse not less feminine, Arabella Crane seemed suddenly to conceive the laudable and arduous design of reforming that portentous sinner. She had some distant relations in London, whom she very rarely troubled with a visit, and who, had she wanted anything from them, would have shut their doors in her face; but as, on the contrary, she was well off, single, and might leave her money to whom she pleased, the distant relations were always warm in manner, and prodigal in their offers of service. The next day she repaired to one of these kinsfolk,—a person in a large way of business,—and returned home with two great books in white sheepskin. And when Losely looked in to dine, she said, in the suavest tones a tender mother can address to an amiable truant, “Jasper, you have great abilities; at the gaming-table abilities are evidently useless: your forte is calculation; you were always very quick at that. I have been fortunate enough to procure you an easy piece of task-work, for which you will be liberally remunerated. A friend of mine wishes to submit these books to a regular accountant: he suspects that a clerk has cheated him; but he cannot tell how or where. You know accounts thoroughly,—no one better,—and the pay will be ten guineas.”
Jasper, though his early life had rendered familiar and facile to him the science of book-keeping and double-entry, made a grimace at the revolting idea of any honest labour, however light and well paid. But ten guineas were an immense temptation, and in the evening Mrs. Crane coaxed him into the task.