“The[“The] Cavendishes are not on the list of particular friends then, I suppose,” observed Horace, “or there would have been an end of the hoarding before this time. Mr. Cavendish does not approve of any reserves of guineas within twenty miles of his bank.”
Melea was struck by her brother’s countenance and manner, whenever he mentioned Mr. Cavendish. There was now something more conveyed by both than the good-humoured contempt with which the whole family had been accustomed to regard the man.
“Horace,” said she, “I never suspected you of hating any body before; but now I do believe you hate Mr. Cavendish. I wish you would tell us why; for I had rather think worse of him than of you.”
“Yes, dear, I will tell you why; and this was what you were to hear this afternoon.”
Mr. Berkeley moved uneasily in his chair, and his wife stole anxious glances at him, while Horace related that the proprietors of the D—— bank had been for some time aware that forgeries of their notes were circulating pretty extensively; that inquiries had in consequence been secretly made, under Horace’s direction, in order to the fraud being put a stop to; that these inquiries had issued in the deed being brought home to the parties.
“O, we shall have a trial and execution,” groaned Fanny.
No such thing, her brother assured her. In times when banking credit did not, at the best, keep its ground very firmly, there was every inducement to a bank not to shake it further by publishing the fact that notes circulating in its name were not to be trusted. The fact of this forgery had been kept a profound secret by the partners of the D—— bank.
“But what is the consequence to the holders of the forged notes?”
“Nothing. We pay them on demand without remark.”
“But what a loss to the bank, if the forgery is extensive!”