A Woman Intervenes - Robert Barr (good book recommendations TXT) 📗

that perhaps her visit to England would not be, after all, so futile.

'I don't think I understand you,' said Jennie.

'Well, my dear, with a little tact on your part, I'm not at all sure but Lord Frederick Bingham might propose.'

Jennie, who was putting on her gloves, paused and looked at Lady Willow, with a merry twinkle in her eyes, and a demure smile hovering about the corners of her mouth.

'Do you imagine, then, that I have come over here to ensnare some poor unprotected nobleman--with a display of tact? Oh dear me! As if tact had anything to do with it! Never, never, never, Lady Willow! I wouldn't marry an Englishman if he were the last man left on earth.'

'Many Englishmen are very nice, my dear,' protested Lady Willow gently, with a deep sigh, for she thought of her own husband, who, having been all his life an irreclaimable reprobate, had commanded her utmost affection while he lived, and was the object of her tenderest regret now that he had taken his departure from a world that had never appreciated his talents; although its influence was, in the estimation of the widow, entirely to blame for those shortcomings which Sir Debenham had been unable to conceal.

'And yet,' continued Jennie inconsequently, as she buttoned her glove, 'I do adore a title; I wonder why that is? I suppose no woman is ever at heart a republican, and if the United States is to be wrecked, it is the women who will do the wrecking, and start a monarchy. I have no doubt the men would let us proclaim an empire now if they imagined it would please us.'

"I thought you were all sovereigns over there already,' said Lady Willow.

'Oh, we are, but that's just the trouble. There is too much competition in the queen business; there are too many of us, and so we exchange our sovereignty for the lesser titles of duchesses and countesses and all that.

'"It is no trivial thing, I ween,
To be a regular Royal Queen.
No half and half affair, I mean,
But a right down regular, regular regular regular Royal Queen."

I don't know that the words are right, but the sentiment is there. Oh dear me! I'm afraid I'm becoming quite English, you know.'

'I don't see many signs of it,' said Lady Willow, smiling in spite of herself as her voluble companion sang and danced about the room.

'Come, Lady Willow,' cried Jennie, 'get on your things; I am going to a City bank to cash a cheque, and I warn you that I will take a hansom. Lord Freddie agrees with me that a hansom is the jolliest kind of vehicle: please don't frown at me, Lady Willow--"jolliest" is Lord Freddie's word, not mine.'

'What I didn't like,' said Lady Willow, with as near an approach to severity as the kindly woman could assume, 'was your calling him Lord Freddie.'

'Oh, that's his phrase, too! He says everybody calls him Lord Freddie. But come along, and I'll call him Lord--Frederick--Bingham,' with a voice of awe and appropriate pauses between the words. 'He always seems so trivial compared with his name; he reminds me of a salesman at a remnant counter, and I don't wonder everybody calls him Lord Freddie. I'm afraid I'm a disappointed woman, Lady Willow. I suppose the men have retrograded since armour went out of fashion; they had to be big and strong then to carry so much hardware. Of course it makes a difference to a man whether his tailor cuts him a suit out of broadcloth or out of sheet iron. Yes, I begin to suspect that I've come to England several centuries too late.'

Lady Willow was too much shocked at these frivolous remarks to make any reply, so, attempting none, she went to her room to prepare for her trip to the City.

Leaving Lady Willow in the hansom, Jennie entered the bank and got the white notes, generally alluded to in fiction as 'crisp,' stuffing them with greater carelessness than their value warranted into her purse. She took from this receptacle of her wealth a bit of paper on which was written an address, and this she looked at for some moments before leaving the bank. On reaching the hansom, she handed up the slip of paper to the driver.

'Do you know where that is?' she asked.

'Yes, miss; it is just round the corner.'

'Well, drive to the opposite side of the street, and stop where I can see the door of No. 23.'

'Very good, miss.'

Arriving nearly opposite No. 23, the driver pulled up. Jennie looked across at the doorway where many hurrying men were entering and leaving. It was a large building evidently filled with offices; the girl drew a deep breath, but made no motion to leave the hansom.

'Have you business here, too?' asked Lady Willow, to whom the City was an unknown land, the rush and noise of which were unpleasantly bewildering.

'No,' said Jennie, with a doleful note in her voice, 'this is not business; it is pleasure. I want to sit here for a few minutes and think.'

'But, my dear child,' expostulated Lady Willow, 'you can't think in this babel; besides, the police will not allow the hansom to stand here unless one of us is shopping, or has business in an office.'

'Then, dear Lady Willow, do go shopping for ten minutes; I saw some lovely shops just down the street. Here are five pounds, and if you see anything that I ought to have, buy it for me. One must think now and then, you know. Our thoughts are like the letters we receive; we need to sort them out periodically, and discard those that we don't wish to keep. I want to rummage over my thoughts and see whether some of them are to be abandoned or not.'

When Lady Willow left her, Jennie sat with her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees gazing across at No. 23. The faces of none who went in or came out were familiar to her. Frequently glances were cast at her by passers-by, but she paid no heed to the crowd, nor to the fleeting admiration her pretty face aroused in many a flinty stockbroking breast, if, indeed, she was conscious of the attention she received. She awoke from her reverie when Lady Willow stepped into the hansom.

'What, back already?' she cried.

'I have been away for a quarter of an hour,' said the elder woman reproachfully. 'Besides, the money is all spent, and here are the parcels.'

'Money doesn't go far in the City, does it?' said Jennie.

'Why, what's the matter with you, my dear?' asked the elder woman; 'your voice sounds as if you had been crying.'

'Nonsense! What an idea! This street reminds me so of Broadway that I have become quite homesick, that's all. I think I'll go back to New York.'

'Have you met somebody from over there?'

'No, no. I've seen no one I knew.'

'Did you expect to?'

'Perhaps.'

'I didn't know you had any friends in the City.'

'I haven't. He's an enemy.'

'Really? An enemy who was once a friend?'

'Yes. Why do you ask so many questions?'

Lady Willow took the girl's hand, and said soothingly:

'I am sorry there was a misunderstanding.'

'So am I,' agreed Jennie.


CHAPTER XXI.


When John Kenyon entered the office of his friend next morning, Wentworth said to him:

'Well, what luck with the Longworths?'

'No luck at all,' was the answer; 'the young man seemed to have forgotten all about our conversation on board the steamer, and the old gentleman takes no interest in the matter.'

Wentworth hemmed and tapped on the desk with the end of his lead pencil.

'I never counted much on that young fellow,' he said at last. 'What appeared to be his reason?'

'I don't know exactly. He didn't give any reason. He merely said that he would have nothing to do with it, after having got me to tell him what our option on the mine was.'

'Why did you tell him that?'

'Well, it seemed, after I had talked to him a little, that there was some hope of his going in with us. I told him point-blank that I didn't care to say at what figure we had the option unless he was going in with us. He said of course he couldn't consider the matter at all unless he knew to what he was committed; and so I told him.'

'And what excuse did he make for not joining us?'

'Oh, he merely said he thought he would have nothing to do with it.'

'Now, what do you imagine his object was in pumping you if he had no intention of taking an interest in the mine?'

'I'm sure I don't know. I do not understand that sort of man at all. In fact, I feel rather relieved he is going to have nothing to do with it. I distrust him.'

'That's all very well, John, you are prejudiced against him; but you know the name of Longworth would have a very great effect upon the minds of other City men. If we can get the Longworths into this, even for a small amount, I am certain that we shall have very little trouble in floating the company.'

'Well, all I can say is, my mission to the Longworths was a failure. Have you looked over the papers?'

'Oh yes, and that reminds me. The point on which the whole scheme turns is the availability of the mineral for the making of china, isn't it?'

'That is so.'

'Well, look at this letter; it came this morning.'

He tossed the letter over to Kenyon, who read it, and then asked:

'Who's Adam Brand? He doesn't know what he is talking about.'

'Ah, but the trouble is that he does. No man in England better, I should imagine. He is the manager and part owner of the big Scranton china works. I went to see Melville of that company yesterday. He could tell me nothing about the mineral, but kept the specimen I gave him, and told me he would show it to the manager when he came in. Brand is the manager of the works, and if anybody knows the value of the mineral, he ought to be the man.'

'Nevertheless,' said Kenyon, 'he is mistaken.'

'That is just the point of the whole matter--is he? The mineral is either valueless, as he says, or he is telling a deliberate lie for some particular purpose; and I can't see, for the life of me, why a stranger should not only tell a falsehood, but write it on paper. Now, John, what do you know about china manufacture?'

'I know very little indeed about it.'

'Very well, then, how can you put your knowledge against this man's, who is a practical manufacturer?'

Kenyon looked at Wentworth, who was evidently not feeling in the best of humours.

'Do you mean to say, George, that I do not know what I am talking about when I tell you that this mineral is valuable for a certain purpose?'

'Well, you have just admitted that you know nothing about the china trade.'

'Not "nothing," George--I know something about it; but what I do