One Of Them

by Charles James Lever

He was speedily beside her; and away they drove, the coachman having received orders to make one turn of the Cascine, and back to the hotel.

“I'm deep in affairs this morning, my dear Mr. Stocmar,” began she, as they drove rapidly along, “and have to bespeak your kind aid to befriend me. You have not seen Clara yet, and consequently are unable to pronounce upon her merits in any way, but events have occurred which require that she should be immediately provided for. Could you, by any possibility, assume the charge of her to-day,—this evening? I mean, so far as to convey her to Milan, and place her at the Conservatoire.”

“But, my dear Mrs. Morris, there is an arrangement to be fulfilled,—there is a preliminary to be settled. No young ladies are received there without certain stipulations made and complied with.”

“All have been provided for; she is admitted as the ward of Mr. Stocmar. Here is the document, and here the amount of the first half-year's pension.”

“'Clara Stocmar,'” read he. “Well, I must say, madam, this is going rather far.”

“You shall not be ashamed of your niece, sir,” said she, “or else I mistake greatly your feeling for her aunt.” Oh! Mr. Stocmar, how is it that all your behind-scene experiences have not hardened you against such a glance as that which has now set your heart a-beating within that embroidered waistcoat? “My dear Mr. Stocmar,” she went on, “if the world has taught me any lesson, it has been to know, by an instinct that never deceives, the men I can dare to confide in. You had not crossed the room, where I received you, till I felt you to be such. I said to myself, 'Here is one who will not want to make love to me, who will not break out into wild rhapsodies of passion and professions, but who will at once understand that I need his friendship and his counsel, and that'”—here she dropped her eyes, and, gently suffering her hand to touch his, muttered, “and that I can estimate their value, and try to repay it.” Poor Mr. Stocmar, your breathing is more flurried than ever. So agitated, indeed, was he, that it was some seconds ere he became conscious that she had entered upon a narrative for which she had bespoken his attention, and whose details he only caught some time after their commencement. “You thus perceive, sir,” said she, “the great importance of time in this affair. Sir William is confined to his room with gout, in considerable pain, and, naturally enough, far too much engrossed by his sufferings to think of anything else; Miss Leslie has her own preoccupations, and, though the loss of a large sum of money may not much increase them, the disaster will certainly serve to engage her attention. This is precisely the moment to get rid of Clara with the least possible éclat; we shall all be in such a state of confusion that her departure will scarcely be felt or noticed.”

“Upon my life, madam,” said Stocmar, drawing a long breath, “you frighten—you actually terrify me; you go to every object you have in view with such energy and decision, noting every chance circumstance which favors you, so nicely balancing motives, and weighing probabilities with such cool accuracy, that I feel how we men are mere puppets, to be moved about the board at your will.”

“And for what is the game played, my dear Mr. Stocmar?” said she, with a seductive smile. “Is it not to win some one amongst you?”

“Oh, by Jove! if a man could only flatter himself that he held the right number, the lottery would be glorious sport.”

“If the prize be such as you say, is not the chance worth something?” And these words were uttered with a downcast shyness that made every syllable of them thrill within him.