“By George, I ain’t. I ain’t rich, indeed.”
“But you mean to be—with Julie’s money?”
“Oh—ah—yes; and you ought to know, Madame Gordeloup, that I am now the heir to the family estate and title.”
“Yes; the poor little baby is dead, in spite of the pills and the powders, the daisies and the buttercups! Poor little baby! I had a baby of my own once, and that died also.” Whereupon Madame Gordeloup, putting up her hand to her eyes, wiped away a real tear with the banknotes which she still held. “And I am to remind Julie that you will be the heir?”
“She will know all about that already.”
“But I will tell her. It will be something to say, at any rate—and that, perhaps, will be the difficulty.”
“Just so! I didn’t look at it in that light before.”
“And am I to propose it to her first?”
“Well; I don’t know. Perhaps as you are so clever, it might be as well.”
“And at once?”
“Yes, certainly; at once. You see, Madame Gordeloup, there may be so many buzzing about her.”
“Exactly; and some of them perhaps will have more than twenty pounds handy. Some will buzz better than that.”
“Of course I didn’t mean that for anything more than just a little compliment to begin with.”
“Oh, ah; just a little compliment for beginning. And when will it be making a progress and going on?”
“Making a progress!”
“Yes; when will the compliment become a little bigger? Twenty pounds! Oh! it’s just for a few gloves, you know; nothing more.”
“Nothing more than that, of course,” said poor Archie.
“Well; when will the compliment grow bigger? Let me see. Julie has seven thousands of pounds, what you call, per annum. And have you seen that beautiful park? Oh! And if you can make her to look at the moon with her hair down—oh! When will that compliment grow bigger? Twenty pounds! I am ashamed, you know.”
“When will you see her, Madame Gordeloup?”
“See her! I see her every day, always. I will be there today, and tomorrow, and the next day.”
“You might say a word then at once—this afternoon.”
“What! for twenty pounds! Seven thousands of pounds per annum; and you give me twenty pounds! Fie, Captain Clavering. It is only just for me to speak to you—this! That is all. Come; when will you bring me fifty?”
“By George—fifty!”
“Yes, fifty;—for another beginning. What; seven thousands of pounds per annum, and make difficulty for fifty pounds! You have a handy way with your glove. Will you come with fifty pounds tomorrow?” Archie, with the drops of perspiration standing on his brow, and now desirous of getting out again into the street, promised that he would come again on the following day with the required sum.
“Just for another beginning! And now, good morning, Captain Clavering. I will do my possible with Julie. Julie is very fond of me, and I think you have been right in coming here. But twenty pounds was too little, even for a beginning.” Mercenary wretch; hungry, greedy, ill-conditioned woman—altogether of the harpy breed! As Archie Clavering looked into her grey eyes, and saw there her greed and her hunger, his flesh crept upon his bones. Should he not succeed with Julia, how much would this excellent lady cost him?
As soon as he was gone the excellent lady made an intolerable grimace, shaking herself and shrugging her shoulders, and walking up and down the room with her dirty wrapper held close round her. “Bah,” she said. “Bah!” And as she thought of the heavy stupidity of her late visitor she shrugged herself and shook herself again violently, and clutched up her robe still more closely. “Bah!” It was intolerable to her that a man should be such a fool, even though she was to make money by him. And then, that such a man should conceive it to be possible that he should become the husband of a woman with seven thousand pounds a year! Bah!
Archie, as he walked away from Mount Street, found it difficult to create a triumphant feeling within his own bosom. He had been awkward, slow, and embarrassed, and the Spy had been too much for him. He was quite aware of that, and he was aware also that even the sagacious Doodles had been wrong. There had, at any rate, been no necessity for making a difficulty about the money. The Russian spy had known her business too well to raise troublesome scruples on that point. That she was very good at her trade he was prepared to acknowledge; but a fear came upon him that he would find the article too costly for his own purposes. He remembered the determined tone in which she had demanded the fifty pounds merely as a further beginning.
And then he could not but reflect how much had been said at the interview about money—about money for her, and how very little had been said as to the assistance to be given—as to the return to be made for the money. No plan had been laid down, no times fixed, no facilities for making love suggested to him. He had simply paid over his twenty pounds, and been desired to bring another fifty. The other fifty he was to take to Mount Street on the morrow. What if she were to require fifty pounds every day, and declare that she could not stir in the matter for less? Doodles, no doubt, had told him that these first-class Russian spies did well the work for which they were paid; and no doubt, if paid according to her own tariff, Madame Gordeloup would work well for him; but such a tariff as that was altogether beyond his means! It would be imperatively necessary that he should come to some distinct settlement with her as to price. The twenty pounds, of course, were gone; but would it not be better that he
