The Master of the Ceremonies
Page 66
commission, which will go for futureloans."
"There, Sir Matthew, sign that, please," he said aloud.
"Barclay, you're a gentleman. I'm a made man, and you shall have allthe other bills taken up."
He scratched his name across the bill, passed it back, and Barclaycounted out some notes and gave them in exchange.
"That's your sort," cried Sir Matthew, counting the notes. "Why,Barclay, the bill was for a hundred. Here are only notes for sixty."
"Quite right, Sir Matthew: the other is for the discount."
"Oh, but--"
"My dear Sir Matthew, if you are dissatisfied, pray give me the notes,and I'll tear up the bill. You forget the risk. Those are my terms."
"Oh, but, Barclay."
"What's he making you smart, Matt?" cried Sir Harry, joining them."Just his way."
"I've offered to cancel the bill, if Sir Matthew likes," said Barclay.
"Have you got any money at all, Matt?"
"Yes, some, but--"
"Hang it! Come along then, man; we've no time to lose. Come on andchance it."
Sir Harry took his friend's arm, and hurried him out, and Barclay wasnodding his head thoughtfully as the door closed, but only for anotherto open, and Mrs Barclay to enter and sit down, making the entries ofhis two transactions as a matter of course.
"Old woman," said Barclay quietly.
"Jo-si-ah!" she said, turning to him quickly, and laying her hand uponhis.
"I try to think Claire Denville a good girl."
"I'm sure she is," cried Mrs Barclay. "Oh, Josiah, why do you talklike that?"
"Because things look ugly, old lady, and I shall be very sorry if you'vebeen deceived."
"Oh, but, my dear," panted Mrs Barclay, "I'm sure."
"One can't be sure of anything with a pretty well-flattered woman. Youknow what you said about that row at Denville's, when Sir Harry Paynewas found with Claire that night."
"Yes: I said it was May, and I'm sure of it."
"You're not sure, old lady--you can't be. Suppose it was Claire afterall."
"I say it was May. Claire Denville couldn't do such a thing."
"I don't know. I hope not," said Barclay. "I want to believe in her.Well, Joseph?"
"Two chaises to-night, sir, Moggridge says. Sir Harry Payne and SirMatthew Bray."
"That will do. Well, old lady?"
"It can't be for Claire, Jo-si-ah, I'm sure," cried Mrs Barclay. "Shewouldn't look at that miserable fop."
"Suppose he is jackal for Rockley, old lady?"
"Oh, Jo-si-ah, don't. It must be for her sister May."
"No, I think not. She and Burnett have got on all right lately, andPayne hasn't been near her, that I know. Look here, old woman, I won'tbelieve it if I can help it, but it looks very much as if Claire isreally going off to-night."
"Then she shan't," cried Mrs Barclay, beginning to cry. "If the poorgirl has been worked upon just when she was poor and miserable, and hasbeen weak enough to consent, she shall find she has got a friend whowill stand by her, and give her good advice, and stop her. Jo-si-ah, Ilove that girl as if she was my own child--and--"
"Well?"
"I shall go down to their house and see her and talk to her, and I shallstop with her till I know she's safe. That is, mind, if it's true. Butit ain't."
"Well," said Barclay, "you shall do so, for I don't want her to gowrong. Only mind this, it is suspicious that she has not been near youlately."
"Not it," said Mrs Barclay, "bless her! She's had some reason, and--there, that's her knock, I'll swear."
She ran out of the room, and came back directly with Claire, lookingmore pale and troubled than ever, leaning upon her arm.
Mrs Barclay darted a triumphant look at her husband, and Barclay tookClaire's hand in a grave distant manner that made the visitor wince.
Volume Three, Chapter IV.
MRS BARCLAY HAS HER TURN.
Claire winced again, and involuntarily glanced at the door, repentingthat she had come, as she saw Mrs Barclay frown and make a series ofgrimaces at her lord, all of which were peculiar enough to a stranger,but which simply meant to the initiated: "Go away and leave us together:I can manage her better than I could if you stayed here."
Barclay comprehended from old experience all that his wife meant tosignify, and, making some excuse, he shortly left the room.
"There, that's right, my dear," said Mrs Barclay warmly. "Men are sucha nuisance when you want to have a nice cosy chat. Why dear, dear,dear, how white you look. Your bonny face oughtn't to be like that.You've been wherriting yourself over something. It isn't money, is it?"
"No, Mrs Barclay, we seem to have been a little better off lately."
"But you are in trouble, my darling? Now don't say you aren't, butspeak out plain to me. Oh, I wish I could make you believe that I am avery, very true friend, and that I want to help you. There, I know:you've been falling out with Cora Dean."
Mrs Barclay prided herself on this as being a master stroke of policyto draw Claire out and make her ready to confide in her; but Claireshook her head and smiled sadly.
"No," she said dreamily, "I am not in trouble about that. I thought Iwould call and see you to-day. There, I must go now."
"Is that all?" said Mrs Barclay in a disappointed tone. "Why, I was inhopes that you were over head and ears in trouble, and had come to mefor help."
"Mrs Barclay!" exclaimed Claire.
"No, no, no, my dear. What a stupid old woman I am! I didn't meanthat, but if you were in trouble, I hoped that, seeing how much you arealone, you had come to me for help and advice."
Claire's face worked and her lips quivered. She vainly tried to speak,and finally, utterly broken-down with the agony of her encounters on theprevious day with Louis and her sister, with the following sleeplessnight and the despair of the present day, during which she had beenvainly striving to see some way out of the difficulty, she threw herselfupon the breast offered to receive her troubles and sobbed aloud.
"I knew--I knew," whispered Mrs Barclay, soothing and caressing thepoor girl by turns. "I knew as well as if some one had told me that youwere in trouble and wanted help. There, there, cry away, my darling.Have a good long patient one, and don't hurry yourself. You'll be aworld better afterwards; and if you like then to tell me about it, why,you see, you can, and if you don't like to, why, there's no harm done."
Even if the amiable plump old soul had said nothing more than the firstsympathising words, Claire's emotion, so long pent up, would now havehad its vent, the tears seeming to relieve her overburdened brain as sheclung to her hostess, listening, and yet only half hearing her whisperedwords.
It was perhaps as well, for with all its true-heartedness there was acomic side to Mrs Barclay's well-meant sympathy; and some of heradjurations to "cry away," and not to "stop it," and the like, wouldhave provoked a smile from anyone who had been present at the scene.
"There, there, there, then, that's better," cried Mrs Barclay, beamingin Claire's face and kissing her tenderly. "Now you'll be comfortableagain; and now, my dear child, we're all alone, and if you like to makea confidant of me, you shall find you can trust me as much as myJo-si-ah can. But don't you think I'm a scandal-loving old busybody, mydear, for I don't ask you to tell me anything."
"You are always so good to me, Mrs Barclay," sighed Claire, clinging tothe ample breast.
"Oh, nonsense, my dear. I only offer to be your confidant, so as tohelp you in your trouble. For you are in trouble, my dear--dreadfultrouble, and it hurts me to see you so--hurts me, my dear, more than youthink for, so what I say is--If it does you good to come and sit with meand be comforted by having a good cry over me, just as if you were mylittle girl, why you shall, and I shan't ask you a single question; butif you think such a silly stout old woman can do you any good by givingyou advice, or--now don't be offended--finding you money; or by askingmy Jo-si-ah what to do--"
"Mrs Barclay!" cried Claire in tones of dismay, a
nd with her cheeksflushing.
"Ah, that's the way of the world, my dear," said Mrs Barclay with aquiet contented smile, as she drew Claire's head back upon her shoulder,and stroked and patted her cheek. "You don't know my Jo-si-ah. Heseems a rough harsh-spoken old money-grubber, but he's thetenderest-hearted, most generous man that ever lived. There, there, youneedn't