"Yes," she said; "I am to lose that too, I suppose--power over my feelings first, then over my words, lastly over my features,--and become the weak thing I have always despised. Fool! fool!"
[CHAPTER IV.]
WINGED IN FLIGHT.
For many weeks after Mr. Guyon's death the inexorable pressure of business, increased by a commercial crisis long impending and now arrived in full severity, obliged Robert Streightley to put his sorrow as far as possible from his thoughts during business hours, and bring all his intellect to grapple with the conduct of his affairs. That the old house of Streightley and Son was in any thing but a prosperous condition; that its cool, calculating manager had rushed wildly into almost impossibly beneficial speculations,--was now pretty generally talked of, and various reasons were assigned for Robert's conduct. Some people, of course, roundly stated that they had never believed in him at all; that all his previous success had been the result of luck, or "flukes;" and that he was merely finding his proper level. Others lamented that spirit of flunkeydom which had led a sharp fellow like Streightley to marry the daughter of an insolvent West-end swell, who had spent all his money in reckless extravagance, and, it was said, had bolted from him now the money was gone. Few--very few--had a word of pity for him; he had been too successful for that; and though during the long years of his triumph he had always been generous and kindhearted to a degree, in the hour of his fall this was not remembered; and it was not even allowed, by those who knew nothing of his private history, that he "took his punishment" well, or that he exhibited a proper pluck under his defeat and downfall.
It mattered little to Robert Streightley what was thought of him even in the City now. The mainspring of his life was broken; she, for whom up to the very last he had plotted and schemed and speculated, had left him. All his efforts now--and he struggled hard--were made to save the reputation of the house. Hour after hour did he and Mr. Fowler spend in going over the books, looking at lists of outstanding debts, the recovery of which was hopeless, and liabilities which it was impossible to evade. Hour after hour did the result of their work show them the hopelessness of their position, and the fact that the final crash was every day drawing nearer. Poor old Mr. Fowler was a pitiable spectacle; to him the fact that "the house" was in difficulties was infinitely more distressing than the thought that with it would go all the savings of years, from time to time invested with it, and all chance of that comfortable pension on retirement on which he could fairly have reckoned.
After Katharine's departure, Robert Streightley seemed to have struck his flag and given up the battle, so far as his business was concerned; endeavouring only to steer his wrecked fortune safely into port. This, notwithstanding all his losses and the bad position of his affairs, he might have been able to do, but that, within three months of the catastrophe, he was obliged to make a payment of five thousand pounds to Mr. Daniel Thacker, as Robert imagined, but in reality to Mrs. Gordon Frere. Streightley had found Thacker hitherto very kindly disposed towards him, and after some consideration he wrote, stating that the security was as good as at the time of the loan; that he would pay the interest, but that it would be a great convenience to him if the repayment of the capital could be postponed for a few months. To this application he had had a reply from Thacker, stating that he would turn it over in his mind, and write again in a few days.
"Turning it over in his mind" meant, of course, consulting his principal. So, as soon as he had sent his answer to Robert's note, Mr. Thacker drove to Palace Gardens, and had the honour of a private interview with the lady of the mansion, in her boudoir. Hester was looking very handsome, as Mr. Thacker thought, though there was a little too much set intensity about her lips for that gentleman's rather full-flavoured taste. After some ordinary conversation, Hester said:
"And now, Mr. Thacker, state the special business of which you wrote to me, and which has brought you here to-day."
"It is one of Streightley's matters, Mrs. Frere. He had, if you recollect, some five thousand and odd pounds from us some months ago, for which we hold as security the assignment of the house in Portland Place, and one or two other minor deeds. That money is, I see, due on the third of next month--a fortnight hence, that is to say; and I have received a letter from Mr. Streightley--who, of course, only knows me in the matter--asking for a renewal of the loan on payment of the interest, and on the continuance of the same security."
"Have you that letter with you?"