A Master of Deception

by Richard Marsh

"I know no more than you; this is the first time I find myself in such a position. Two payments of some importance are to be made this week; I was wondering how they would be met. Of course, if representations are made, time will be given."

"But, all the same, you would rather the payments were made? Exactly my feelings, Andrews; I want everything to be done in due order. I am going to arrange for Miss Patterson to meet you and Mr. Parmiter at the bank to-morrow morning, when I am advised that it will be possible to make arrangements which will enable us to meet all liabilities as they fall due. By the way, I believe that the trading account pass-book is in your charge; you might let me look at it."

Rodney examined the book when it was brought to him with great attention. He was already posted in certain figures which had to deal with his uncle's private account. Customers were brought in to him; some who had called in the ordinary course of business, others who had come to offer condolences, and so on. Their being brought straight to him showed a frank acceptance on Andrews' part of the fact that he was to be acting head of the firm; none the less, therefore, he was careful that Andrews was present at each of the interviews, referring certain matters to him with a little air of deference which won, as it was intended to win, the managing man's heart. The customers were favourably impressed, agreeing, as they went out, that Graham Patterson's mantle had descended on to capable shoulders.

"I shouldn't wonder," declared Mr. Brailson North as he shook hands with Mr. Andrews at the outer door, "if he turns out to be every bit as good a man as his uncle."

This, coming from a member of one of the largest firms in the City, was praise indeed. The managing man's eyes glistened. Anything which suggested a compliment to the business, so wrapped up in it was his whole existence, was a compliment to him. Since yesterday his ideas on the subject of Mr. Elmore had changed.

"Mr. North," he addressed the visitor in a confidential whisper, "Mr. Patterson was a good man, an excellent man of business in his way, sound and discreet; but between you, me, and this doorpost, I shouldn't wonder if the young one was better, with all his uncle's soundness and discretion, together with something that his uncle hadn't got. He's surprised me! You mark my words, I shouldn't be surprised if the house of Graham Patterson--there's going to be no alteration in the title--takes its place among the greatest City houses--mind you, in the front rank."

Mr. North laughed.

"There's no reason why your prophecy shouldn't come true. This is the day of the young man. Your young man has evidently got a head on his shoulders; he's a good foundation to build on. If he has grit, steadiness, caution, and knows just what sort of structure he would raise on it, there's no reason that I know of why he shouldn't build anything he likes. I agree with you in thinking that it is possible that the house of Graham Patterson is destined to be, in all respects, one of the finest in the City of London."

While these things were being said in his praise Rodney Elmore was writing to Miss Patterson. He enclosed for her inspection the marriage licence he had bought, asked in what church she would like the ceremony to take place on Monday, and added that he hoped to be able to make all final detailed arrangements with her to-morrow after the funeral. He told her of the difficulty which had arisen about getting money, asked her to meet him at the bank in the morning at 11.30; hoped that afterwards they might lunch together, pointing out that he never had lunched with her yet. Since after to-morrow he looked forward to being able to spend most of his time with her till Monday, and then for ever and a day--and that wouldn't seem a day too long!--he said that he felt that it would be better to devote the evening to doing certain little things of his own, which, sooner or later, would have to be done. By doing them he would clear the decks for action, so that, when the time for action came, he would be able to devote the whole of his time and, indeed, the whole of his life to her. All of which meant that he would not be able to tell her, except on paper, that he loved her till they met at the bank to-morrow morning.

Before actually slipping it into the envelope, together with this edifying epistle, he read the marriage licence carefully through. The perusal started him on what, for him, was an unwonted train of thought. Already, while still in the first flush of youth, he had spoilt his life, brought it to final wreck and ruin. What an extremely silly thing to have done! It was characteristic of this young gentleman that he never could bring himself to look at anything through serious eyes--even death. Whatever his first impulse might be, his second was to smile. Life, with all that appertained thereto, was such a funny thing. Here was he, with a career on either hand, each of which would lead at least to fortune; yet he might have neither. That did seem droll. Each was represented by a woman; personally he would have preferred that which was represented by Gladys, if only because he had no doubt that ere long he would be master not only of the business but of her. He was not so sure of Stella. In her he suspected an obstinate streak which he feared might be congenital. He had always felt that the Austins were, as the head of the house had put it, "stocky." He would find them more inclined to manage than to be managed. One thing he did know of himself: that he never could be managed. He might not put up an open fight--open fighting was not precisely in his line--but, if a sustained attempt were made to manage him, he would slip away--somehow, that was sure. Therefore, if only for the sake of peace and quietude, it would be better to avoid the risk. All the same, there was something about Stella which did appeal to him. With a sudden smile, slipping the licence and the letter into the envelope, he closed the flap.