“Is this all you came to tell me?”
“Why, no sir, not exactly,” replied Jones, a little disconcerted by the stern manner of the old gentleman. “The sloop is not quite filled up, she could stow a few more casks, but I have been cleaned out, and unless I can get the loan of forty or fifty pounds—”
“Ha! I thought so. Are you aware, Mr Jones, that your character for honesty has of late been called in question?”
“I am aware that I have got enemies,” replied the fish-merchant coldly. “If their false reports are to be believed to my disadvantage, of course I cannot expect—”
“It is not my belief in their reports,” replied Mr Durant, “that creates suspicion in me, but I couple these reports with the fact that you have again and again deceived me in regard to the repayment of the loans which you have already received at various times from me.”
“I can’t help ill-luck, sir,” said Morley with a downcast look. “If men’s friends always deserted them at the same time with fortune there would be an end of all trade.”
“Mr Jones,” said the other decidedly, “I tell you plainly that you are presumptuous when you count me one of your friends. Your deceased brother, having been an old and faithful servant of mine, was considered by me a friend, and it is out of regard to his memory alone that I have assisted you. Even now, I will lend you the sum you ask, but be assured it is the last you shall ever get from me. I distrust you, sir, and I tell you so—flatly.”
While he was speaking the old gentleman had opened a desk. He now sat down and wrote out a cheque, which he handed to his visitor, who received it with a grim smile and a curt acknowledgment, and instantly took his leave.
Mr Durant smoothed the frown from his brow, and returned to the drawing-room, where Katie’s sweet voice instantly charmed away the memory of the evil spirit that had just left him.
The table was covered with beautiful pencil sketches and chalk-heads and water-colour drawings in various stages of progression—all of which were the production of the same fair, busy, and talented little hand that copied the accounts for the Board of Trade, for love instead of money, without a blot, and without defrauding of dot or stroke a single i or t!