“Why, dear? What is it to you?”
Jervy reflected for a moment, and decided that the time had come to speak more plainly.
“In the first place,” he said, “it would only be an act of common humanity, on my part, to help Mrs. Sowler to get her money. You see that, don’t you? Very well. Now, I am no Socialist, as you are aware; quite the contrary. At the same time, I am a remarkably just man; and I own I was struck by what Mr. Goldenheart said about the uses to which wealthy people are put, by the Rules at Tadmor. ‘The man who has got the money is bound, by the express law of Christian morality, to use it in assisting the man who has got none.’ Those were his words, as nearly as I can remember them. He put it still more strongly afterwards; he said, ‘A man who hoards up a large fortune, from a purely selfish motive—either because he is a miser, or because he looks only to the aggrandisement of his own family after his death—is, in either case, an essentially unchristian person, who stands in manifest need of enlightenment and control by Christian law.’ And then, if you remember, some of the people murmured; and Mr. Goldenheart stopped them by reading a line from the New Testament, which said exactly what he had been saying—only in fewer words. Now, my dear girl, Farnaby seems to me to be one of the many people pointed at in this young gentleman’s lecture. Judging by looks, I should say he was a hard man.”
“That’s just what he is—hard as iron! Looks at his servants as if they were dirt under his feet; and never speaks a kind word to them from one year’s end to another.”
“Suppose I guess again? He’s not particularly free-handed with his money—is he?”
“He! He will spend anything on himself and his grandeur; but he never gave away a halfpenny in his life.”
Jervy pointed to the fireplace, with a burst of virtuous indignation. “And there’s that poor old soul starving for want of the money he owes her! Damn it, I agree with the Socialists; it’s a virtue to make that sort of man bleed. Look at you and me! We are the very people he ought to help—we might be married at once, if we only knew where to find a little money. I’ve seen a deal of the world, Phoebe; and my experience tells me there’s something about that debt of Farnaby’s which he doesn’t want to have known. Why shouldn’t we screw a few five-pound notes for ourselves out of the rich miser’s fears?”
Phoebe was cautious. “It’s against the law—ain’t it?” she said.
“Trust me to keep clear of the law,” Jervy answered. “I won’t stir in the matter till I know for certain that he daren’t take the police into his confidence. It will be all easy enough when we are once sure of that. You have been long enough in the family to find out Farnaby’s weak side. Would it do, if we got at him, to begin with, through his wife?”
Phoebe suddenly reddened to the roots of her hair. “Don’t talk to me about his wife!” she broke out fiercely; “I’ve got a day of reckoning to come with that lady—” She looked at Jervy and checked herself. He was watching her with an eager curiosity, which not even his ready cunning was quick enough to conceal.