“Women can understand well enough when they want money,” cried the sharp lady; “and the short and the long of it is, Mr. Ludgate, that I will see and settle accounts with Allen myself; and bring him to reason, if you won’t; and this minute, too.”
“Bless me! upon my faith, Allen’s better than we thought: here’s bank-notes within the account,” said Mr. Ludgate.
“Ay, I thought he could not be so very impertinent as to refuse when I sent to him myself. But this is only one five pound note: I sent for ten. Where is the other?”
“I want the other myself,” said her husband.
The tone was so peremptory, that she dared not tempt him further; and away she went to Messrs. Run and Raffle’s, where she had the pleasure of buying a bargain of things that were of no manner of use to her, and for which she paid twice as much as they were worth. These cheap days proved dear days to many.
Whilst Mrs. Ludgate spent the morning at Messrs. Run and Raffle’s, her husband was with Tom Lewis, lounging up and down Bond-street. Tom Lewis being just one step above him in gentility, was invited to parties where Ludgate could not gain admittance, was bowed to by people who never bowed to Leonard Ludgate, could tell to whom this livery or that carriage belonged, knew who everybody was, and could point out my lord this, and my lady that, in the park or at the play. All these things made him a personage of prodigious consequence in the eyes of our hero, who looked upon him as the mirror of fashion. Tom knew how to take advantage of this admiration, and borrowed many a guinea from him in their morning walks: in return, he introduced Mr. Ludgate to some of his friends, and to his club.
New occasions, or rather new necessities, for expense occurred every day, in consequence of his connexion with Lewis. Whilst he aimed at being thought a young man of spirit, he could not avoid doing as other people did. He could not think of economy! That would be shabby! On his fortune rested his claims to respect from his present associates; and, therefore, it was his constant aim to raise their opinion of his riches. For some time, extravagance was not immediately checked by the want of money, because he put off the evil day of payment. At last, when bills poured in upon him, and the frequent calls of tradesmen began to be troublesome, he got rid of the present difficulty by referring them to Allen. “Go to Allen; he must settle with you: he does all my business.”
Allen sent him account after account, stating the sums he paid by his order. Ludgate thrust the unread accounts into his escritoire, and thought no more of the matter. Allen called upon him, to beg he would come to some settlement, as he was getting more and more, every day, into his debt. Leonard desired to have an account, stated in full, and promised to look over it on Monday: but Monday came, and then it was put off till Tuesday; and so on, day after day.
The more reason he had to know that his affairs were deranged, the more carefully he concealed all knowledge of them from his wife. Her ignorance of the truth not only led her daily into fresh extravagance, but was, at last, the cause of bringing things to a premature explanation. After spending the morning at Messrs. Run and Raffle’s, she returned home with a hackney-coach full of bargains. As she came into the parlour, loaded with things that she did not want, she was surprised by the sight of an old friend, whom she had lately treated entirely as a stranger. It was Lucy, who had in former days been her favourite companion. But Lucy had chosen to work, to support herself independently, rather than to be a burden to her friends; and Mrs. Ludgate could not take notice of a person who had degraded herself so far as to become a workwoman at an upholsterer’s. She had consequently never seen Lucy since this event took place, except when she went to Mr. Beech the upholsterer’s, to order her new furniture. She then was in company with Mrs. Pimlico: and, when she saw Lucy at work in a back parlour with two or three other young women, she pretended not to know her. Lucy could scarcely believe that this was done on purpose; and, at all events, she was not mortified by the insult. She was now come to speak to Mrs. Ludgate about the upholsterer’s bill.
“Ha! Lucy, is it you?” said Mrs. Ludgate, as soon as she entered. “I’ve never seen you in Weymouth-street before! How comes it you never called, if it was only to see our new house? I’m sure I should always be very happy to have you here — when we’ve nobody with us; and I’m quite sorry as I can’t ask you to stay and take a bit of mutton with us to-day, because I’m engaged to dine in Bond-street, with Mrs. Pimlico’s cousin, pretty Mrs. Paget, the bride whom you’ve heard talk of, no doubt. So you’ll excuse me if I run away from you, to make myself a little decent; for it’s horrid late!”
After running off this speech, with an air and a volubility worthy of her betters, she set before Lucy some of her bargains, and was then retreating to make herself decent; but Lucy stopped her, by saying, “My dear Mrs. Ludgate, I am sorry to detain you, but Mr. Beech, the upholsterer, knowing I have been acquainted with you, has sent me to speak to you about his bill. He is in immediate want of money, because he is fitting out one of his sons for the East Indies.”
“Well! but his son’s nothing to me! I sha’n’t think of paying the bill yet, I can assure him; and you may take it back, and tell him so.”
“But,” said Lucy, “if I take back such an answer, I am afraid Mr. Beech will send the bill to Mr. Ludgate; and that was what you particularly desired should not be done.”
“Why, no; that’s what I can’t say I should particularly wish, just at present,” said Mrs. Ludgate, lowering her tone “because, to tell you a bit of a secret, Lucy, I’ve run up rather an unconsciable bill, this year, with my milliner and mantua-maker; and I would not have all them bills come upon him all in a lump, and on a sudden, as it were; especially as I laid out more on the furniture than he counts. So, my dear Lucy, I’ll tell you what you must do: you must use your influence with Beech to make him wait a little longer. I’m sure he may wait well enough; and he shall be paid next month.”
Lucy declared that her influence, on the present occasion, would be of no avail; but she had the good-nature to add, “If you are sure the bill can be paid next month, I will leave my two years’ salary in Mr. Beech’s hands till then; and this will perhaps satisfy him, if he can get bills from other people paid, to make up the money for his son. He said thirty guineas from you on account would do, for the present; and that sum is due to me.”
“Then, my dearest Lucy, for Heaven’s sake, do leave it in his hands! You were a good creature to think of it; but you always were a good creature.”
“Your mother used to be kind to me, when I was a child; and I am sure I ought not to forget it,” said Lucy, the tears starting into her eyes: “and you were once kind to me; I do not forget that,” continued Lucy, wiping the tears from her cheeks.—”But do not let me detain you; you are in a hurry to dress to go to Mrs. Pimlico’s.”
“No — pray — I am not in a hurry now,” said Mrs. Ludgate, who had the grace to blush at this instant. “But, if you must go, do take this hat along with you. I assure you it’s quite the rage: I got it this morning at Run and Raffle’s, and Mrs. Pimlico and Mrs. Paget have got the same.”
Lucy declined accepting the hat, notwithstanding this strong and, as Mrs. Ludgate would have thought it, irresistible recommendation. “Now you must have it: it will become you a thousand times better than that you have on,” cried Mrs. Ludgate, insisting the more the more Lucy withdrew; “and, besides, you must wear it for my sake. You won’t? Then I take it very ill of you that you are so positive; for I assure you, whatever you may think, I wish to be as kind to you now as ever. Only, you know, one can’t always, when one lives in another style, be at home as often as one wishes.”
Lucy relieved her ci-devant friend from the necessity of making any more awkward apologies, by moving quickly towards the door. “Then you won’t forget,” continued Mrs. Ludgate, following her into the passage, “you won’t forget the job you are to do for me with Beech?”
“Certainly I shall not. I will do what I have promised: but I hope you will be punctual about the pa
yment next month,” said Lucy, “because I believe I shall be in want of my money at that time. It is best to tell you exactly the truth.”
“Certainly! certainly! you shall have your money before you want it, long and long; and my only reason for borrowing it from you at all is, that I don’t like to trouble Mr. Ludgate, till he has settled accounts with Allen, who keeps all our money from us in a strange way; and, in my opinion, uses Leonard exceedingly ill and unfairly.”
“Allen!” cried Lucy, stopping short. “Oh, Belle! how can you say so? How can you think so? But you know nothing of him, else you could not suspect him of using any one ill, or unfairly; much less your husband, the son of his old friend.”
“Bless me! how she runs on! and how she colours! I am sure I didn’t know I was upon such tender ground! I did not know Allen was such a prodigious favourite!”
“I only do him justice in saying that I am certain he could not do an unfair or unhandsome action.”
“I know nothing of the matter, I protest; only this — that short accounts, they say, make long friends; and I hope I sha’n’t affront any body by saying, it would be very convenient if he could be got to settle with Mr. Ludgate, who, I am sure, is too much the gentleman to ask any thing from him but his own; which, indeed, if it was not for me, he’d be too genteel to mention. But, as I said before, short accounts make long friends; and, as you are so much Allen’s friend, you can hint that to him.”
“I shall not hint, but say it to him as plainly as possible,” replied Lucy; “and you may be certain that he will come to settle accounts with Mr. Ludgate before night.” “I am sure I shall be mighty glad of it; and so will Mr. Ludgate,” said Belle; and thus they parted.
Mrs. Ludgate with triumph announced to her husband, upon his return home, that she had brought affairs to a crisis with Allen; and that he would come to settle his accounts this evening. The surprise and consternation which appeared in Mr. Ludgate’s countenance, convinced the lady that her interference was highly disagreeable.
CHAPTER II.
Allen came punctually in the evening to settle his accounts. When he and Leonard were by themselves, he could not help expressing some astonishment, mixed with indignation, at the hints which had been thrown out by Mrs. Ludgate.
“Why, she knows nothing of the matter,” said Ludgate. “I’ve no notion of talking of such things to one’s wife; it would only make her uneasy; and we shall be able to go on some way or other. So let us have another bottle of wine, and talk no more of business for this night.”
Allen would by no means consent to put off the settlement of accounts, after what had passed. “Short accounts,” said he, “as Mrs. Ludgate observed, make long friends.”
It appeared, when the statement of affairs was completed, that Allen had advanced above three hundred pounds for Leonard; and bills to a large amount still remained unpaid.
Now it happened that Jack, the footboy, contrived to go in and out of the room several times, whilst Mr. Ludgate and Allen were talking; and he, finding it more for his interest to serve his master’s tradesmen than his master, sent immediate notice to all whom it might concern, that Mr. Ludgate’s affairs were in a bad way, and that now or never must be the word with his creditors. The next morning bills came showering in upon Leonard whilst he was at breakfast, and amongst them came sundry bills of Mrs. Ludgate’s. They could not possibly have come at a more inauspicious moment. People bespeak goods with one species of enthusiasm, and look over their bills with another. We should rather have said people spend with one enthusiasm, and pay with another; but this observation would not apply to our present purpose, for Mr. and Mrs. Ludgate had never yet experienced the pleasure or the pain of paying their debts; they had hitherto been faithful to their maxim of “Spend to-day, and pay to-morrow.”
They agreed well in the beginning of their career of extravagance; but the very similarity of their tastes and habits proved ultimately the cause of the most violent quarrels. As they both were expensive, selfish, and self-willed, neither would, from regard to the other, forbear. Comparisons between their different degrees of extravagance commenced; and, once begun, they never ended. It was impossible to settle, to the satisfaction of either party, which of them was most to blame. Recrimination and reproaches were hourly and daily repeated; and the lady usually ended by bursting into tears, and the gentleman by taking his hat and walking out of the house.
In the meantime, the bills must be paid. Mr. Ludgate was obliged to sell the whole of his interest in the shop in Cranbourne-alley; and the ready money he received from Allen was to clear him from all difficulties. Allen came to pay him this sum. “Do not think me impertinent, Mr. Ludgate,” said he, “but I cannot for the soul of me help fearing for you. What will you do, when this money is gone? and go it must, at the rate you live, in a very short time.”
“You are very good, sir,” replied Leonard, coldly, “to interest yourself so much in my concerns; but I shall live at what rate I please. Every man is the best judge of his own affairs.”
After this repulse Allen could interfere no further. But when two months had elapsed from the date of Mrs. Ludgate’s promised payment of the upholsterer’s bill, Lucy resolved to call again upon Mrs. Ludgate. Lucy had now a particular occasion for the money: she was going to be married to Allen, and she wished to put into her husband’s hands the little fortune which she had so hardly earned by her own industry. From the time that Allen heard her conversation, when Belle came to view the house in Cranbourne-alley, he had been of opinion that she would make an excellent wife: and the circumstances which sunk Lucy below Mrs. Ludgate’s notice raised her in the esteem and affection of this prudent and sensible young man. He did not despise — he admired her for going into a creditable business, to make herself independent, instead of living as an humble companion with Mrs. Ludgate, of whose conduct and character she could not approve.
When Lucy called again upon Mrs. Ludgate to remind her of her promise, she was received with evident confusion. She was employed in directing Mr. Green, a builder, to throw out a bow in her dining-room, and to add a balcony to the windows; for Mrs. Pimlico had a bow and a balcony, and how could Mrs. Ludgate live without them?
“Surely, my dear Mrs. Ludgate,” said Lucy, drawing her aside, so that the man who was measuring the windows could not hear what she said, “surely you will think of paying Mr. Beech’s bill, as you promised, before you go into any new expense?”
“Hush! hush! don’t speak so loud. Leonard is in the next room; and I would not have him hear any thing of Beech’s bill, just when the man’s here about the balcony, for any thing in the world!”
Lucy, though she was good-natured, was not so weak as to yield to airs and capricious extravagance; and Mrs. Ludgate at last, though with a bad grace, paid her the money which she had intended to lay out in a very different manner. But no sooner had she paid this debt than she considered how she could prevail upon Mr. Green to throw out the bow, and finish the balcony, without paying him for certain alterations he had made in the house in Cranbourne-alley, for which he had never yet received one farthing. It was rather a difficult business, for Mr. Green was a sturdy man, and used to regular payments. He resisted all persuasion, and Mrs. Ludgate was forced again to have recourse to Lucy.
“Do, my dear girl,” said she, “lend me only twenty guineas for this positive man; else, you see, I cannot have my balcony.” This did not appear to Lucy the greatest of all misfortunes. “But is it not much more disagreeable to be always in debt and danger, than to live in a room without a balcony?” said Lucy.
“Why it is disagreeable, certainly, to be in debt, because of being dunned continually; but the reason I’m so anxious about the balcony, is that Mrs. Pimlico has one, and that’s the only thing in which her house is better than mine. Look just over the way: do you see Mrs. Pimlico’s beautiful balcony?”
Mrs. Ludgate who had thrust her head far out of the window, pulling Lucy along with her, now suddenly drew back, exclaiming, �
�Lord, if here is not that odious woman; I hope Jack won’t let her in.” — She shut the window hastily, ran to the top of the stairs, and called out, “Jack! I say, Jack; don’t let nurse in for your life.”
“Not if she has the child with her, ma’am?” said Jack.
“No, no, I say!”
“Then that’s a sin and a shame,” muttered Jack, “to shut the door upon your own child.”
Mrs. Ludgate did not hear this reflection, because she had gone back to the man who was waiting for directions about the balcony; but Lucy heard it distinctly. “Ma’am, nurse would come in, for she says she saw you at the window; and here she is, coming up the stairs,” cried the footboy.
The nurse came in, with Mrs. Ludgate’s child in her arms.
“Indeed, madam,” said she, “the truth of the matter is, I can’t and won’t be denied my own any longer: and it is not for my own sake I speak up so bold, but for the dear babe that I have here in my arms, that can’t speak for itself, but only smile in your face, and stretch out its arms to you. I, that am only its nurse, can’t bear it; but I have little ones of my own, and can’t see them want. I can’t do for them all: if I’m not paid my lawful due, how can I? And is it not fit I should think of my own flesh and blood first? So I must give up this one. I must! — I must!” — cried the nurse, kissing the child repeatedly, “I must leave her to her mother.”
The poor woman laid the child down on the sofa, then turned her back upon it, and, hiding her face in her apron, sobbed as if her heart would break. Lucy was touched with compassion; the mother stood abashed; shame struggled for a few instants with pride; pride got the victory. “The woman’s out of her wits, I believe,” cried Mrs. Ludgate. “Mr. Green, if you’ll please to call again to-morrow, we’ll talk about the balcony. Lucy, give me the child, and don’t you fall a crying without knowing why or wherefore. Nurse, I’m surprised at you! Did not I tell you I’d send you your money next week?”
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