"Come, Constance, darling, you must not be angry with me—I'll be bound you want some finery for Dawson's ball; why did you not say so at once, you silly girl? There, tell me how much will be necessary—but I dare say you don't exactly know yourself; take this, dear one, and mind I expect to see my wifey the best dressed, as well as the prettiest woman in the room. There, kiss and be friends, Con.; I have one favor to ask, my love; I wish you'd take any thing you want from Green's, they can put a thing or two in my way sometimes."
The clog accompanying Allan's generous gift made it scarcely a relief to her; but those bills must be paid, and though she knew he would expect to see the sum accounted for, she could not comply with his wishes. He felt annoyed at this; why should she not say how she had laid out his present? At the same time other discrepancies forced themselves on his notice, and made him most uncomfortable. He was more grieved than angry, however. His wife had certainly not made any purchases at Green's, although he had not only requested it, but explained his reasons—nay more she was not as handsomely attired at the ball as he could have wished; he had felt that from the first, and was more inclined to admire her moderation than grumble at her appearance; but his sister had further and accidentally enlightened him. Constance's was only an old dress re-trimmed; if so, where was that money? Her books besides, though apparently very accurately kept, presented increased expenses, while his table was not so good as it had been—he could speak with certainty on that head; she looked shabby, too, sometimes; gloves, shoes, bonnet, ribbons were not so often renewed as he considered necessary. He could not understand it; something under-hand was decidedly going on, but Constance always evaded any explanation. Then she was growing thin and low-spirited, nearly fretful, so he did not like to press her—what could it all mean? Comfort seemed banished from his hearth; some evil influence was hovering around them. There was some lurking mystery; and yet he was sure that she loved him. How anxious she was to please him in all save this? How proudly she looked up to him, how tenderly she had nursed him in a late severe attack. But why should she not tell him the cause of her unhappiness; why was there not perfect confidence between man and wife?
Chance solved some of his doubts. He accidentally opened a letter addressed to Mrs. Macdonald. It contained a bill and receipt, and came from her brother's tailor. The writer, while thanking her for the last payment on account, hoped she would soon make it convenient to settle the balance, as it was some time since the young gentleman had had these articles. Macdonald naturally felt annoyed, nay, indignant, that his comforts should be curtailed to pay his brother-in-law's bills, for he never once imagined that Constance had long since received the money for them, and appropriated it to another purpose; all he could see was her weakness, and the meanness of the young man in submitting to such an obligation; and he would have spoken his mind pretty freely but for the fear of agitating his wife, whose approaching confinement had thrown her into a very precarious state of health. Rather than she should know that he was aware of her folly, he at once paid the somewhat heavy remainder. He was still smarting from the irritation when he met Edward Leslie, the elder brother, exceedingly well-dressed, and in high spirits. He had just returned from an interview with a merchant who was inclined to send him abroad on very advantageous terms; the only difficulty was a small sum to start with; and Edward naturally thought he might apply to his wealthy brother-in-law for an advance on his expected salary. At any other time Allan would willingly have made the loan, but at that moment it seemed too much like victimization, as if he were a destined prey to the Leslies; he therefore not only refused point blank, but accompanied his refusal by certain inuendoes at Edward's expenses and appearance, which were as incomprehensible as offensive to the latter, and the result was a violent quarrel between them.
Meanwhile Mr. Leslie's difficulties were increasing, and he saw himself compelled to call a meeting of his creditors; this had hitherto been concealed from Constance, but it soon became necessary to apply to her, as, to her father's utter astonishment, bills of which he had not the slightest knowledge now poured in on him. She was alone in her luxurious drawing-room, looking the picture of misery, having that day heard Edward's version of her husband's extraordinary conduct, and his own disappointment, now likely to be attended with serious consequences, as, if he could not raise this money, he must relinquish this lucrative appointment—a provision for life. And now her father's position was explained to her; what was to become of them? what could she do?
"I should not have worried you with all this, my poor girl; the general opinion is in my favor; people see how this has been brought upon me, and two or three of my creditors have come forward very handsomely; Lynch offers to back me if I will start again. I called at Allan's office as I came along; I wanted to have his advice, and to know whether he would join Lynch as security if I continued the agency; but he was out, so I left a note for him, explaining what I wanted, and came on here. I missed my dinner with it all, and really should be glad of a glass of wine, Mrs. Mac—; come, dear, don't cry, there's no disgrace in my misfortunes—we have never been extravagant or thoughtless; but, Constance, I was rather surprised to see these bills among my other accounts; surely they were paid long ago?"
"I—I—I forget, father."
"Nonsense; I'm sure you had the money for them; those very sums are entered in my day-book. Now, do calm yourself, and look them over. See, why, they're dated two and three years back. I never had an account with any tradesmen longer than the quarter. I looked at your book, and couldn't make head or tail of it, or I would not have bothered you now. You really must examine into this, Constance; my character is touched by it—to leave such bills so long unpaid."
"Perhaps there is some mistake."
"None at all: either you did or did not pay those bills. If you did pay them, hunt up the receipts. I don't know the names even of some of these fellows—did you ever deal with them? Answer me at once—yes or no—did you ever owe them any thing?"
"Yes—I mean—that is—"