Page:All the Year Round - Series 2 - Volume 2.pdf/247

 ; as every tolerably successful man can afford to be."

"I suppose you wonder how I found your address?"

"Not the least in the world. Unfortunately I know too well that it is in the archives of the Post-Office Directory. Behold the painful evidences of the fact!" and he pointed to a table covered with papers. "Petitions, begging letters, all kinds of unreadable literature."

"Yes; but I don't study the Post-Office Directory, as a rule."

"No; but you looked at it to-day, because you had an object in view. Given the object, you will not hesitate to depart from your usual course, Mrs. Creswell."

"I will not pretend to ignore your sarcasm, nor will I say whether it is deserved or undeserved; though perhaps my presence here just now should have induced you to spare me."

"I did not mean to be sarcastic; I simply gave utterance to a thought that came into my mind. You said you came on a matter of business? I must be rude enough to remind you that I am very busy just now."

"I will detain you a very short time; but, in the first place, let us drop this fencing. You know my husband is dead?"

Joyce bowed.

"And that I am left with a large, a very large, fortune at my disposal?"

"I heard so, not merely when I was down at Helmingham the other day, but here in London. It is common talk."

"You were down in Helmingham the other day? Ah, of course! However, suppose I had come to you to say" and she paused.

Joyce looked at her with great composure. "To say!" he repeated.

"I must go through with it," she muttered beneath her breath. "To say that the memory of old days is always rising in my mind, the sound of old words always ringing in my ears, the remembrance of old looks almost driving me mad! Suppose I had come to say all this; and this besides, share that fortune with me!"

"To say that to me!"

"To you!"

"It is excessively polite of you, and of course I am very much flattered, necessarily. But, Mrs. Creswell, there is one thing that would prevent my accepting your very generous offer."

"And that is"

"I am engaged to be married."

"I had heard some report of that kind; but, knowing you as I do, I had set very little store by it. Walter Joyce, I have followed your fortunes, so far as they have been made public, for many months, and I have seen how, step by step, you have pushed yourself forward. You have done well, very well; but there is a future for you far beyond your present, if you but take advantage of the opportunity which I now offer you. With the fortune which I offer you—a fortune, mind; not a few thousand pounds such as you are anticipating with Maud Creswell, but with a fortune at your back, and your talents, you may do anything; there is no position which might not be open to you."

"You are drawing a tempting picture."

"I am drawing a true one; for in addition to your own brains, you would have those of a woman to aid you: a woman, mind, who has done for herself what she proposes to do for you; who has raised herself to the position she always longed for—a woman with skill to scheme, and courage to carry out. Do you follow me?"

"Perfectly."

"And you agree?"

"I think not. I'm afraid it's impossible. I know it's not an argument that will weigh with you at all, or that, perhaps, you will be able to understand; but you see, my word is pledged to this young lady."

"Is that all? I should think some means might be found to compensate the young lady for her loss."

Walter Joyce's face was growing very dark, but Marian did not perceive it.

"No, it is not all," he said, coldly; "the thing would be impossible, even if that reason did not exist."

She saw that her shaft had missed its mark, but she was determined to bring him down, so tried another.

"Ah, Walter," she said, "do you answer me like this? In memory of the dear old days"

"Stop!" he cried, bringing his hand down heavily on the writing-table before him, and springing to his feet. "Stop!" he cried, in a voice very different from the cold polite tone in which he had hitherto spoken: "don't name those times, or what passed in them, for in your mouth such allusions would be almost blasphemy. Marian Creswell—and the mere fact that I have to call you by that name ought to have told you what would be my answer to your proposition before you came here—perhaps if I were starving I might take an alms of you, but under no other circumstance would I touch a farthing of that