He was terribly annoyed and concerned about Margaret, he was upset and mortified by other things.
It was impossible for Mr. Drayton to have lost, as he had lost, without the fact being known far and wide, and Mr. Sandford's share was universally condemned. He was accused openly of having made a cat's-paw of the man whose genial laugh and careless ways had gained him the epithet of a "good fellow" from men who had neither suffered through him or known his counter-balancing want of attraction.
Mr. Sandford knew that had he not been a fool and a timid fool, just when he ought to have been bold, he would not have lost, but there was just that grain of truth in the accusation which made it sting.
The reputation of a man in business—who has not the root of honesty where honesty must be a sine quâ non—if respect is to be given; is like graceful species of fir trees to be found on Scottish hills and in many a wood, where, instead of sending their roots well down into the earth, as do the other kinds, they spread close to the surface, and the first rough wind throws them over and exposes the shallow hold they have of mother earth. Mr. Sandford's name, once holding so high a place, began to be mentioned with a little reticence. A shake of the head or a shrug of the shoulders says a good deal, though it cannot be repeated. It has weight; gestures are often remembered when words, especially vague words, are forgotten.
Once a little beginning is made how easy is it to go on! People began again to remember that there was a great deal about poor Mr. Dorriman's affairs that had never been properly understood.
This feeling made itself felt. The first time Mr. Sandford wanted to carry through some measure with his usual heavy hand, the members of the Company, of which he was chairman, demurred. No one accused him openly, but there were certain things insinuated.
His quick sense of any failing towards himself made him instantly grasp the position of matters; and, though he mastered himself sufficiently to show no outward sign, he went home with rage in his heart, all the more terrible that it had had no outlet. It was at this inopportune time that Grace provoked him.
Mrs. Dorriman, in vain, tried to counsel the wilful girl, in private. She heard her unmoved. Day after day there were scenes, in which her provoking words stung him.
"Why should I not say what I think, my dear Mrs. Dorriman? I really cannot hold my tongue."
"I do not believe you are saying what you think. You speak on purpose to provoke my brother."