having a carriage?”
“Yes?”
“So I am obliged to walk when I do come out. There are certain duties one is forced to attend to. For instance, there is my poor brother up yonder. I feel bound to see him from time to time. You see him frequently, of course?”
“Every day, necessarily. We are so near.”
“Poor fellow! yes. Very eccentric and peculiar; but you need be under no apprehension, Mr Leslie. He is quite harmless, I am sure.”
“Oh, quite harmless, Miss Marguerite. Merely original.”
“It is very good of you to call it originality; but as friends, Mr Leslie, there is no harm in our alluding to his poor brain. Softening, a medical man told me.”
“Hardening, I should say,” thought Leslie.
“Very peculiar! very peculiar! Father and uncle both so different from my dear nephew. He is in very bad spirits. Ah! Mr Leslie, I shall be very glad to see him once more as a Des Vignes should be. With him placed in the position that should be his, and that engagement carried out regarding my darling Louise’s future, I could leave this world of sorrow without a sigh.”
Leslie winced, but it was not perceptible to Aunt Marguerite, who, feeling dissatisfied with the result of her shot, fired again.
“Of course it would involve losing my darling; but at my time of life, Mr Leslie, one has learned that it is one’s duty always to study self-sacrifice. The Des Vignes were always a self-sacrificing family. When it was not for some one or other of their kindred it was for their king, and then for their faith. You know our old French motto, Mr Leslie?”
“I? No. I beg pardon.”
“Really? I should have thought that you could not fail to see that. It is almost the only trace of our former greatness that my misguided brother – ”
“Were you alluding to Mr Luke Vine?”
“No, no, no, no! To my brother, George des Vignes. Surely, Mr Leslie, you must have noted our arms upon the dining-room windows.”
“Oh, yes, of course, of course; and the motto, Roy et Foy.”
“Exactly,” said Aunt Marguerite, smiling. “I thought it must have caught your eye.” Something else was catching Duncan Leslie’s eye just then – the last flutter of the scarf Louise wore before it disappeared round the foot of the cliff.
“I shall bear it, I dare say, and with fortitude, Mr Leslie, for it will be a grand position that she will take. The De Lignys are a family almost as old as our own; and fate might arrange for me to visit them and make a long stay. She’s a sweet girl, is she not, Mr Leslie?”
“Miss Vine? Yes; you must be very proud of her,” said the young man, without moving a muscle.
“We are; we are indeed, Mr Leslie; but I am afraid I am detaining you.”
“It is curious,” said Leslie, as he walked slowly down the cliff-path. “De Ligny, De Ligny? Who is De Ligny? Well,” he added with a sigh, “I ought to thank Heaven that the name is not Pradelle.”
Volume One – Chapter Nine.
In Office Hours
“Now, my dear Mr Crampton, believe me, I am only actuated by a desire to do good.”
“That’s exactly what actuates me, sir, when I make bold, after forty years’ service with you and your father, to tell you that you have made a great mistake.”
“All men make mistakes, Crampton,” said Van Heldre to his plump, grey, stern-looking head clerk.
“Yes, sir, but if they are then worth their salt they see where they have made a mistake, and try and correct it. We did not want him.”
“As far as actual work to be done, no; but I will tell you plainly why I took on the young man. I wish to help my old friend in a peculiarly troubled period of his life.”
“That’s you all over, Mr Van Heldre,” said the old clerk, pinching his very red nose, and then arranging his thin hair with a pen-holder, “but I can’t feel that it’s right. You see, the young man don’t take to his work. He comes and goes in a supercilious manner, and treats me as if I were his servant.”
“Oh, that will soon pass off, Crampton.”
“I hope so, Mr Van Heldre, sir, but his writing’s as bad as a schoolboy’s.”
“That will improve.”
“He’s always late of a morning.”
“I’ll ask him to correct that.”
“And he’s always doing what I hate in a young man, seeing how short is life, sir, and how soon we’re gone – he’s always looking at the clock and yawning.”
“Never mind, Crampton, he’ll soon give up all that sort of thing. The young man is like an ill-trained tree. He has grown rather wild, but now he has been transplanted to an orderly office, to be under your constant supervision, he will gradually imbibe your habits and precision. It will be his making.”
“Now, now, now,” said the old clerk, shaking his head, “that’s flattering, sir. My habits and precision. No, no, sir; I’m a very bad clerk, and I’m growing old as fast as I can.”
“You are the best clerk in the west of England, Crampton, and you are only growing old at the customary rate. And now to oblige me look over these little blemishes in the young man’s character. There is a good deal of the spoiled boy in him, but I believe his heart’s right; and for more reasons than one I want him to develop into a good man of business – such a one as we can make of him if we try.”
“Don’t say another word, Mr Van Heldre. You know me, and if I say as long as the young man is honest and straightforward I’ll do my best for him, I suppose that’s sufficient.”
“More than sufficient, Crampton.”
“But you know, sir, he ought to have made some little advance in a month.”
“No, no, Crampton,” said Van Heldre, smiling, “he has not grown used to the new suit yet; have patience, and he’ll come right.”
“That’s enough, sir,” said Crampton, climbing on to a high stool in front of a well-polished desk; “now for business. The St. Aubyn has taken in all her cargo, and will sail to-morrow. We ought soon to have news of the Madelaine. By the way, I hope Miss Madelaine’s quite well, sir. Haven’t seen her for a day and a half.”
“Quite well, Crampton.”
“That’s right, sir,” said the old man, smiling, and rubbing his hands. “Bless her! I’ve only one thing against her. Why wasn’t she a boy?”
Van Heldre smiled at his old confidential man, who still rubbed his hands softly, and gazed over his silver-rimmed spectacles at a file of bills of lading hanging from the wall.
“What a boy she would have made, and what a man I could have made of him! Van Heldre and Son once more, as it ought to be. I’d have made just such a man of business of him as I made
