A Civil Contract

leave such matters in his own, more experienced hands, but Adam said he thought he ought to see Drummond himself. “My family has always banked with Drummond’s,” he said. “They have always dealt fairly by us, too. I think I should prefer to talk to Drummond myself.”

Mr Wimmering might pull down the corners of his mouth, but it was certain that he could never have achieved the accommodation which old Mr Drummond granted to Adam.

Drummond’s was an old-established firm, and amongst its distinguished clients it numbered no less a personage than His Majesty King George; but the name of Deveril figured in its earliest accounts, and it had been with a heavy heart that Mr Charles Drummond had awaited the arrival of the new Lord Lynton. He feared that demands were going to be made which it would be impossible for him to grant. He was not entirely unacquainted with Adam, but he had had no opportunity to form an opinion of his character. He remembered him only as an unassuming young officer, quite unlike his magnificent father; and although that was admittedly a point in his favour it in no way prepared Mr Drummond for a client who not only took him frankly into his confidence, but who said, with a smile that was as charming as it was rueful: “In these circumstances, sir, it must seem outrageous of me to ask you to let me continue drawing on an account which is already grossly overdrawn, but I hope I can satisfy you of my ability to pay off the debt. I have worked out, as well as I’m able — but the exact worth of some of my assets must be conjectural — a sort of balance between my debts and my expectations, which, naturally, you will wish to study.”

He had then laid papers before Mr Drummond, who had peered at them with misgiving. By the time he had recovered from the shock of discovering that Adam’s expectations were not dependent either upon a sure thing at Newmarket, or some speculation calculated to shorten a respectable banker’s days, he had made another discovery, which he later imparted to his son.

“The young man’s like his grandfather. Same quiet ways, same cool head on his shoulders: he’ll do!”

From Charing Cross Adam took a hackney coach to Mount Street, and, with a heart beating uncomfortably fast, trod up the steps to the front door. He was conducted to Lord Oversley’s book-room; and his lordship, exclaiming: “Adam, my dear boy!” got up from his chair, and came quickly to meet him, grasping his hand, and scanning his face with shrewd, kindly eyes. “Poor lad, you look hagged to death! No wonder, of course! But you are well again, aren’t you? I see you limp a trifle: does your leg pain you still?”

“No, indeed, sir: I’m very well. As for looking hagged, that’s the fault of my black coat, perhaps.”

Oversley nodded understandingly. He was a pleasant-faced man, rather more than fifty years of age, dressed fashionably but without extravagance, and distinguished by an easy affability. He pulled forward a chair for Adam. “I don’t mean to tell you how sorry I am: you must know how I feel upon this occasion! Your father was one of my oldest cronies, and though our ways fell apart we remained good friends. Now, I’m not going to stand on ceremony with you, Adam: how badly are things left?”

“Very badly, sir,” Adam replied. “I hope to emerge free of debt, and that, I’m afraid, is the best that can be said.”

“I feared as much. I saw your father in Brooks’s, not a sennight before the accident — ” He broke off, and after a moment’s hesitation said: “I want to speak to you about that. It caused the deuce of a lot of talk: mere humbug to pretend it didn’t! It was bound to do so, and it was bound to bring his creditors down on you like a swarm of locusts.” He cast another of his shrewd glances at Adam. “Ay, you’ve been having a devilish time of it. But that’s not what I want to say. I’ve thought about that accident a great deal. He didn’t mean it. He may have been all to pieces, but I’m as sure as I sit here that he wasn’t riding to break his neck. That’s what you’ve been thinking, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know!” Adam said. “I try not to think of it!”

“Well, you’ll think of it now, my boy!” said Oversley trenchantly. “If he had meant to put a period to his existence he’d have found a surer way to do it than that! Good God, no man knew better than Bardy Lynton that riding for a fall is no more likely to end in a broken neck than in a broken shoulder! No, no, he never meant it! I knew Bardy! He was too game to cry craven, and too much of a right one, for all his faults, to leave you to stand the roast!” He paused, and laid his hand on Adam’s knee, gripping it slightly. “God knows you’ve cause enough, but don’t think too hardly of him! He came into his inheritance too young. When a lad of his cut is as well-breeched as he was, and has no check on him — ”

“Oh, no, no!” Adam said quickly. “Good God, what right have I — ? I didn’t know how serious matters were, but I knew it wasn’t high water with him: he often said we should soon be under the hatches. I didn’t heed him — there always seemed to be enough money — and all I cared for was a pair of colours! If I had thought less of that, and more of Fontley — ”

“Now, that’s enough!” Oversley interrupted. “You’re not a sapskull, so don’t sit there talking sickly balderdash to me! There was nothing you could have done, and if you’re thinking Bardy wanted you at home you’re out! Let alone that he was proud of you — lord, you should have seen him when you were mentioned in one of the despatches! — he didn’t want you to discover how far he had drifted into Dun territory. Always thought he could make a recover, and set all to rights! And I’m bound to own he had some astonishing runs of luck,” added his lordship reflectively. “The pity was — But so it always is with your true gamester! Well, well, mum for that! But if you mean to set the blame for this afterclap at any other door than your father’s, set it at Stephen’s rather than your own! What that young rip cost Bardy, first and last — ! I tell you that, Adam, but well say no more about it: the poor lad’s accounts are wound up now.”

There was a short silence. Adam broke it. “I don’t know. But there is one matter for which I must blame myself, sir — as much as you do, I dare say.”

Oversley replied with a heartiness assumed to conceal embarrassment: “No, I don’t. I’m not going to pitch any gammon about not knowing what you mean. The round tale is that I ought never to have let you make up to that girl of mine — and so I knew!” He smiled wryly. “You know, Adam, there’s no one I’dliefer have for a son-in-law than you, if the dibs had been in tune, but I knew they weren’t, and I ought to have hinted you away as soon as I saw which quarter the wind was in. The fact is I thought it was just a flirtation, and the lord knows you needed something to divert you at that time! I never supposed it would last, once you’d rejoined. And it’s my belief it wouldn’t have done so — at any rate with Julia! — if it hadn’t been for this shocking business, because there’s no denying that Julia’s a taking little puss, and she don’t want for suitors. She’s had ’em all dangling after her, ever since she came out, and has had as many silly nicknames foisted on to her as poor William Lamb’s wife. Sprite — Sylph — Zephyr — ! Pshaw!” said his lordship, imperfectly disguising his pride. “Enough to rum the chit’s head! Now, I don’t say she wasn’t cut up when you went back to Spain: she was. In fact, her mother would have it that she’d mope herself into a decline, but that was all flim-flam! A girl who has a dozen posies sent her in a day don’t go into a decline! And if you ask me — and I don’t say it to wound you, Adam! — she’d have forgotten that interlude if it hadn’t been for some chucklehead calling her the Unattainable. That grassed us, of course. Took to thinking herself pledged to a gallant soldier, and made such a hero of you as would have made the hair rise on your scalp! And then poor Bardy was killed, and there was no keeping it from her that you were in the suds. So now she’s declaring that she’ll never give you up, which pretty well gaps me — or it would, if I didn’t know you too well to think — Damme, Adam, this is a devilish hard thing to say to you, but — ”

“You needn’t say it, sir!” Adam interrupted, rising, and going with a quick, uneven step to the window. “Of course it’s impossible! I’ve known that ever since I first saw my father’s man of business. I should have come to you immediately — I beg your pardon! I hoped things might not be as bad as Wimmering described. In fact they are worse. I’m not in a position to offer for anyone. I never dreamed I could say it, but I wish — yes, with all my heart! — that she had forgotten me!” His voice shook; he made a gallant attempt to conceal his emotion, saying: “I shouldn’t then have been obliged to cry off, which I must do — and came here to do.”

Lord Oversley, rising also, and going to him to lay a hand on his shoulder, said: “I know, my boy, I know! And if I were a rich man — ”

He was interrupted. The door opened suddenly; a male voice was heard to exclaim: “No, dash it, Julia, you can’t — !” and he and Adam turned to see that Miss Oversley was standing on the threshold, one hand clasping the door-knob, the other holding her riding-whip and gloves.

For a moment or two she remained there, her lips parted in eagerness, her eyes, almost too large for her little delicate face, full of light. The picture she presented was lovely indeed. She was a slim creature, so fragile that it was easy to understand why her admirers called her Sylph. Even the feathery curls peeping from under a hat like a shako were ethereal; and her severely cut riding-dress seemed merely to emphasize her fairy-like charm.