VII.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Love is more pleasant than marriage, for the same reason that romances are more amusing than history.
--CHAMFORT.
"He draweth out the thread of his verbosity, finer than the staple of his argument."
--LOVES LABOR LOST.
Young Mandeville having finished his story, looked at his uncle. Hefound him sitting in an attitude of extreme absorption, his right armstretched before him on the table, his face bent thoughtfully downwardsand clouded with that deep melancholy that seemed its most naturalexpression, "He has not heard me," was the young man's first mortifyingreflection. But catching his uncle's eye which at that moment raiseditself, he perceived he was mistaken and that he had rather beenlistened to only too well.
"You must forgive me if I have seemed to rhapsodize," the young manstammered. "You were so quiet I half forgot I had a listener and went onmuch as I would if I had been thinking aloud."
His uncle smiled and throwing off the weight of his reflections whateverthey might be, arose and began pacing the floor. "I see you are pastsurgery," quoth he, "any wisdom of mine would be only thrown away."
Young Mandeville was hurt. He had expected some token of approval on hisuncle's part, or at least some betrayal of sympathy. His looks expressedhis disappointment.
"You expected to convert me by this story," continued the elder, pausingwith a certain regret before his nephew; "nothing could convert mebut--"
"What?" inquired Mandeville after waiting in vain for the other tofinish.
"Something which we will never find in the whirl of New York fashionablelife. A woman with faith to reward and soul to understand suchunqualified trust as yours."
"But I believe Miss Preston is such a girl and will be such a woman. Herlooks, her last words prove it."
"Nothing proves it but time and as for your belief, I have believedtoo." Then as if fearing he had said too much, assumed his mostbusiness-like tone and observed, "But we will drop all that; you haveresolved to quit music and enter Wall Street, your object money and thesocial consideration which money secures. Now, why Wall Street?"
"Because I can think of no other means for attaining what I desire, inthe space of time I would consent to keep a young lady of Miss Preston'sposition waiting."
"Humph! and you have money, I suppose, which you propose to risk on thehazard?"
"Some! enough to start with; a small amount to you, but sufficient if Iam fortunate."
"And if you are not?"
The young man opened his arms with an expressive gesture, "I am donefor, that is all."
"Bertram," his uncle exclaimed with a change of tone, "has it everstruck you that Mr. Preston might have as strong a prejudice againstspeculation as against the musical profession?"
"No, that is, pardon me but I have sometimes thought that even in theevent of success I should have to struggle against his inheritedinstincts of caste and his natural dislike of all things new, evenwealth, but I never thought of the possibility of my arousing hisdistrust by speculating in stocks and engaging in enterprises so nearlyin accord with his own business operations."
"Yet if I guess aright you would run greater risk of losing the supportof his countenance by following the hazardous course you propose, thanif you continued in the line of art that now engages you."
"Do you know--"
"I know nothing, but I fear the chances, Bertram."
"Then I am already defeated and must give up my hopes of happiness."
A smile thin and indefinable crossed the other's face. "No," said he,"not necessarily." And sitting down by his nephew's side, he asked if hehad any objections to enter a bank. "In a good capacity," he exclaimed.
"No indeed; it would be an opportunity surpassing my hopes. Do you knowof an opening?"
"Well," said he, "under the circumstances I will let you into the secretof my own affairs. I have always had one ambition, and that was to be atthe head of a bank. I have not said much about it, but for the last fiveyears I have been working to this end, and to-day you see me thepossessor of at least three-fourths of the stock of the Madison Bank. Ithas been deteriorating for some time, consequently I was enabled to buyit low, but now that I have got it I intend to build up the concern. Iam able to throw business of an important nature in its way, and I dareprophesy that before the year is out you will see it re-established upona solid and influential footing."
"I have no doubt of it, sir; you have the knack of success, any thingthat you touch is sure to go straight."
"Unhappily yes, as far as business operations go. But no matter aboutthat;--" as if the other had introduced some topic incongruous to theone they were considering--"the point is this. In two weeks time I shallbe elected President of the Bank; if you will accept the position ofassistant cashier,--the best I can offer in consideration of your totalignorance of all details of the business,--it is open to you--"
"Uncle! how generous! I--"
"Hush! your duties will be nominal, the present cashier is fullycompetent; but the leisure thus afforded will offer you abundantopportunity to make yourself acquainted with all matters connected withthe banking system as well as with such capitalists as it would be wellfor you to know. So that when the occasion comes, I can raise you to thecashier's place or make such other disposal of your talents as will bestinsure your rapid advance."
The young man's eyes sparkled; with a sudden impetuous movement hejumped to his feet and grasped his uncle's hand. "I can never thank youenough; you have made me your debtor for life. Now let any one ask mewho is my father, and I will say--"
"He was Edward Sylvester's brother. But come, come, this extremegratitude is unnecessary. You have always been a favorite with me,Bertram, and now that I have no child, you seem doubly near; it is mypleasure to do what I can for you. But--" and here he surveyed him witha wistful look, "I wish you were entering into this new line from loveof the business rather than love of a woman. I fear for you my boy. Itis an awful thing to stake one's future upon a single chance and thatchance a woman's faith. If she should fail you after you had compassedyour fortune, should die--well you could bear that perhaps; but if sheturned false, and married some one else, or even married you and then--"
"What?" came in silvery accents from the door, and a woman richly clad,her trailing velvets filling the air at once with an oppressive perfume,entered the room and paused before them in an attitude meant to be arch,but which from the massiveness of her figure and the scornful carriageof her head, succeeded in being simply imperious.
Mr. Sylvester rose abruptly as if unpleasantly surprised. "Ona!" heexclaimed, hastening, however, to cover his embarassment by a courteousacknowledgement of her presence and a careless remark concerning theshortness of the services that had allowed her to return from church soearly. "I did not hear you come in," he observed.
"No, I judge not," she returned with a side glance at Mandeville. "Butthe services were not short, on the contrary I thought I should neverhear the last amen. Mr. Turner's voice is very agreeable," she went on,in a rambling manner all her own, "it never interferes with yourthoughts; not that I am considered as having any," she interjected withanother glance at their silent guest, "a woman in society with areputation for taste in all matters connected with fashionable living,has no thoughts of course; business men with only one idea in theirheads, that of making money, have more no doubt. Do you know, Edward,"she went on with sudden inconsequence, which was another trait of thisamiable lady's conversation, "that I have quite come to a conclusion inregard to the girl Philip Longtree is going to marry; she may be pretty,but she does not know how to dress. I wish you could have seen herto-night; she had on mauve with old gold trimmings. Now with one of hercomplexion--But I forget you haven't seen her. Bertram, I think I shallgive a German next month, will you come? Oh, Edward!" as if the thoughthad suddenly struck her, "Princess Louise _is_ the sixth child of QueenVictoria; I asked Mr. Turner to-night. By the way, I won
der if it willbe pleasant enough to take the horses out to-morrow? Bird has beenobliging enough to get sick just in the height of the season, Mr.Mandeville. There are a thousand things I have got to do and I hatehired horses." And with a petulant sigh she laid her prayer-book on thetable and with a glance in the mirror near by, began pulling off hergloves in the slow and graceful fashion eminently in keeping with herevery movement.
It was as if an atmosphere of worldliness had settled down upon thisroom sanctified a moment before by the utterances of a pure and noblelove. Mr. Sylvester looked uneasy, while Bertram searched in vain forsomething to say.
"I seem to have brought a blight," she suddenly murmured in an easy tonesomewhat at variance with the glance of half veiled suspicion which shedarted from under her heavy lids, at first one and then the other of thetwo gentlemen before her. "No, I will not sit," she added as her husbandoffered her a chair. "I am tired almost to death and would retireimmediately, but I interrupted you I believe in the utterance of somewise saying about matrimony. It is an interesting subject and I have anotion to hear what one so well qualified to speak in regard to it--"and here she made a slow, half lazy courtesy to her husband with a lookthat might mean anything from coquetry to defiance--"has to say to ayoung man like Mr. Mandeville."
Edward Sylvester who was regarded as an autocrat among men, and whocertainly was an acknowledged leader in any company he chose to enter,bowed his head before this anomalous glance with a gesture of somethinglike submission.
"One is not called upon to repeat every inadvertent phrase he mayutter," said he. "Bertram was consulting me upon certain topics and--"
"You answered him in your own brilliant style," she concluded. "What didyou say?" she asked in another moment in a low unmoved tone which thefinal act of smoothing out her gloves on the table with hands delicateas white rose leaves but firm as marble, did not either hasten orretard.
"Oh if you insist," he returned lightly, "and are willing to bear thereflection my unfortunate remark seems to cast upon the sex, I wasmerely observing to my nephew, that the man who centered all his hopesupon a woman's faith, was liable to disappointment. Even if he succeededin marrying her there were still possibilities of his repenting anygreat sacrifice made in her behalf."
"Indeed!" and for once the delicate cheek flushed deeper than its rouge."And why do you say this?" she inquired, dropping her coquettish mannerand flashing upon them both, the haughty and implacable woman Bertramhad always believed her to be, notwithstanding her vagaries and fashion.
"Because I have seen much of life outside my own house," her husbandreplied with undiminished courtesy; "and feel bound to warn any youngman of his probable fate, who thinks to find nothing but roses andfelicity beyond the gates of fashionable marriage."
"Ah then, it was on general principles you were speaking," she remarkedwith a soft laugh that undulated through an atmosphere suddenly growntoo heavy for easy breathing. "I did not know; wives are so little aptto be appreciated in this world, Mr. Mandeville, I was afraid he mightbe giving you some homely advice founded upon personal experience." Andshe moved towards their guest with that strange smile of hers which somecalled dangerous but which he had always regarded as oppressive.
She saw him drop his eyes, and smiled again, but in a different way.This woman, whom no one accused of anything worse than levity, hailedevery tribute to her power, as a miser greets the glint of gold. With aturn of her large but elegant figure that in its slow swaying remindedyou of some heavy tropical flower, hanging inert, intoxicated with itsown fragrance, she dismissed at once the topic that had engaged them,and launched into one of her choicest streams of inconsequent talk. ButMandeville was in no mood to listen to trivialities, and being of asomewhat impatient nature, presently rose and excusing himself, took ahurried leave. Not so hurried however that he did not have time tomurmur to his uncle as they walked towards the door:
"You would make comparison between the girl I worship and other women infashionable life. Do not I pray; she is no more like them than a starthat shines is like a rose that blooms. My fate will not be like that ofmost men that we know, but better and higher."
And his uncle standing there in the grand hall-way, with the freshsplendors of unlimited wealth gleaming upon him from every side, lookedafter the young man with a sigh and repeated, "Better and higher? God inhis merciful goodness grant it."
The Sword of Damocles: A Story of New York Life Page 8