Hard Pressed Part 14

"I think I can manage that," Phillips said. "I'll tell you what my plan is when we get back to my rooms."

CHAPTER XXII

A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE

Major Carden sat over the breakfast which his daughter had prepared for him. He had been unusually late the night before, and showed it in the additional pinkness of his cheeks and the slightly red rims under his eyes. Not that he was feeling much the worse for the previous evening's pleasure; indeed, in his philosophical moments, the Major was fond of speculating which was the wiser--to take his fill of enjoyment's cup with its concomitants in the morrow of suffering and tribulation, or abandon such courses, however delightful. One mode of life was jolly to a point, but, on the other hand, the man who exercised prudence and some measure of control had a compensation in his economy. As a matter of fact, the Major never had been economical. "Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof" summed up his religion to its fullest extent. After a stimulant he knew he would be himself again, so he ate his breakfast with a zest that was truly amazing after the carousal of the night.

For Major Carden always appeared to be in the best of health and spirits. Beyond his impecuniosity he had little to trouble him, and at the moment things appeared to be going very well indeed. He saw his way to make money out of Phillips, and had also been offered a roving commission on the Continent to purchase horses for the Army. This would entail his being away for three or four months, but his travelling allowance was liberal, he would put up at the best hotels, and enjoy himself in a manner consonant with his mission and dignity. He would tell his daughter that he was going abroad on some journalistic commission, for the Major, to do him justice, would have been loth for Alice to know all the expedients he resorted to in earning his precarious living.

His love for his daughter was the one wholesome spot in his otherwise shady existence. He had been a selfish man all his life, had spent his own fortune and his wife's, and had broken the heart of that unhappy woman in a gentlemanly way. There had been no violence, no open unkindness, but the refinement of neglect that undermines health and spirit. When the crash finally came the Major removed to London with his young daughter. He told her just as much as he considered necessary, with the consequence that she regarded him as one of the best and most self-denying of men. Alice had few friends, and none knew anything about the Major's means, so that the journalistic fiction remained una.s.sailable, and Alice could speak freely of her father as adding high intellectual qualities to his other gifts. His frequent late absences from home were explained in this way, and if he never said anything definite about his work, his diffidence might be attributed to natural modesty.

In the circ.u.mstances, therefore, the Major was not sorry his daughter had had an invitation to spend a holiday at Haredale Park. He had thought of inviting himself also, but his new commission put that out of the question. After he had finished his breakfast he helped himself to a liberal dose of brandy and soda, and had just lighted his first cigar when his daughter came in.

"You are very late," she said with playful fondness. "I declare you grow worse and worse."

"Not my fault, my dear," the Major protested. "These things are inevitable amongst newspaper men. I thought I should be at home by eleven, but something important turned up at the last moment and they told me off to attend to it. They are good enough to say they can depend on me, Alice. That is one of the advantages of being steady. If anything goes wrong at the office the first thing they say is, 'Where is Carden?'"

Alice smiled affectionately. To her this was quite natural. For a girl who had spent so many years in London she was wonderfully simple.

"I suppose it can't be helped," she said. "How few men there are who would have endured your misfortunes and turned to and made a living as you are doing! I wish I were clever."

"Oh, so you are, my dear, so you are," the Major said magnanimously.

"The great thing is pluck and perseverance. Without egotism, I think I am endowed with those qualities, and to some extent so are you, and you will make a name as an artist yet. Stick to it, my child, stick to it.

At the same time, it is good to have an occasional change, and I am glad you are going to Haredale Park. I suppose you can manage to put your painting pupils off for a week or two? Probably you will find it lonely when I am away. I shall only be able to run over from the Continent occasionally."

"Oh, I shall miss you," Alice said. "But I shall be safe enough. The landlady is always motherly, and she will see I come to no harm."

The Major dismissed the subject with a flourish of his cigar. He had rather feared his daughter might give way to tears. He thought she might ask him to take her along with him and so put him to the pain of refusal. Possibly the girl was looking too eagerly forward to her visit to Haredale Park to think of anything else. She had not forgotten the days when Major Carden was a man of position and they occupied a fine house in the country, when she had her horse and plunged into the dear delights of country life. It was good to feel she was going back to it, even though it was only for a little time. She had already made her modest preparations. She only hoped there would not be too many visitors at Haredale Park. But May Haredale had a.s.sured her they lived very quietly and had not many friends.

"I am getting nervous about it," she said. "It will seem so different to the life I have been leading here. If I had only foreseen this I might have saved up and bought myself another dress or two. Still, I know I shall enjoy myself."

"Of course you will," the Major said heartily. "But you won't get much gaiety at Haredale. They don't go in for society much. You see, there are very few of the old families left. Times change, my dear, and we change with them. I don't suppose, plainly speaking, that Sir George is much better off than I am. I happen to know that much depends upon the Blenheim colt winning this year's Derby. I was in the Post Club yesterday with one or two of my----"

The Major coughed hastily as if his cigar smoke had gone the wrong way.

"What am I talking about?" he exclaimed. "Anybody would think I am still interested in sport. Do you know, beyond an occasional day at a small meeting, I have no time for that sort of thing. I was in the Post Club on business, purely on business. It is a very sad thing to see young men wasting so much of their time and money on horses. But I can't prevent them from talking and am bound to hear the gossip that goes on.

That is how I came to know so much about Sir George's affairs. Every penny he can sc.r.a.pe together goes on the stables, so you'll probably find that Miss Haredale leads a very quiet existence."

"I am glad to hear it," Alice said. "I shall be happy with her. She was the greatest friend I had at school, and I can't understand how I ever managed to lose sight of her. Is it a nice place?"

"Very pleasant," the Major said critically. "It is a grand old house, full of works of art and furniture and that kind of thing. Of course, all these things go with the estate, so that Sir George could not dispose of them, which is a precious lucky thing for the heir, for there won't be too much for him when the time comes. The stables are very fine, too, and Sir George has some of the best cattle in the country.

Oh, I have no doubt you will enjoy yourself. When do you go?"

"To-day," Alice said.

The Major appeared to be slightly embarra.s.sed.

"Oh, yes," he said, "I had forgotten. It is a trifle awkward, because I have only a little money just now. The cas.h.i.+er at the office is so careless. He omitted to draw my cheque on Friday. Till to-morrow I am not sure whether I shall be able to spare money for your fare. Next week it would be quite different."

Alice Carden kissed the speaker affectionately.

"How thoughtful you are!" she said. "You are always thinking about other people. But please don't worry about that. I have saved a little, and shall have enough to keep me for the next two or three weeks and bring me home again."

The Major expressed his gratification. For once at least he was sincere.

It was most unfortunate, he said, that he should be in temporary need of cash. He laid strict injunctions upon Alice to spend what she had freely and not for one moment to forget that she was a Carden; if she wanted more money she was to write to him without hesitation. He saw her off at Waterloo presently. He paid for the cab in the most lordly fas.h.i.+on, and insisted on his daughter travelling first cla.s.s, though he had not the money to pay for the ticket. But Alice was looking forward too eagerly to her holiday to notice these things.

"Good-bye," she cried. "You will have left for the Continent before I come back. But don't let the thought of my being alone in London interfere with your pleasure. I should like to feel you were not troubling about me."

"I'll try, my dear," the Major said. "Good-bye."

CHAPTER XXIII

A CHANGE OF AIR

About the same time that Major Carden was sitting over his breakfast, Sir George Haredale was gloomily contemplating his own. He had read most of his letters, and had impatiently pushed aside the sheaf of bills and applications for money which poured like a flood upon him at every post.

Some of them were peremptory and some imploring. But they had been coming in for so long that the master of Haredale Park was more or less hardened to them. But one communication was distinctly out of the common and worried him excessively.

"What the deuce does it mean?" he soliloquized irritably. "And who are these people, Absalom & Co.? I never had any dealings with them.

According to their note-paper they call themselves financial agents, but the whole thing looks more like a communication from money-lenders. Yet I don't see how I owe them anything. They write to remind me that in virtue of an a.s.signment made by Mr. Raymond Copley of a certain date I am in their debt to the extent of more than forty thousand pounds. What the d.i.c.kens is an a.s.signment? And what does Copley mean by doing a thing of this sort without consulting me? These people hope I shall make arrangements to liquidate the debt in the course of the next fourteen days. Why, they might just as well ask me to find as many millions. But I daresay there is nothing really alarming about the thing if I only understood it. I wish I had a head for figures. I wish my father had given me a business training. Still, Copley will put it right. Perhaps he is annoyed at the way that May has been behaving. But I hardly think he will visit her folly upon me. However, I must say the thing is alarming."

Sir George shuffled the letter into his pocket as the door opened and May entered. She was dressed for going out and was b.u.t.toning her driving gloves round her wrists. Outside on the gravel stood a smart cob in a Whitechapel cart.

"Where are you going?" Sir George asked.

"To the station to meet Alice Carden. She will be here for lunch."

"I had forgotten her," Sir George murmured. "To tell you the truth, my dear, I am rather sorry you asked her."

"But I was always fond of Alice."

"Yes, of course, why not? The girl is all right. But, between ourselves, Carden is a bit of a bad egg. He comes of an old family, and I recollect when his position was as good as ours. But he muddled his money away.

He always affected the society of those sportsmen who are ready to do anybody. He made the mistake of regarding everybody as a fool except himself, and naturally he came to grief. Those fellows always do."

"But he belongs to one or two good clubs," May protested.

"Oh, I know that. He was never actually found out. He was mixed up in one or two very queer transactions, but contrived to keep clear of trouble himself. There are scores of men who meet him on familiar terms, but precious few ask him to their houses. Still, the girl is coming here, and we must make the best of it. But I wouldn't ask her again if I were you. You can easily drop the acquaintance after the next week or so."

May discreetly refrained from discussing the matter further. There was a strong vein of loyalty in her nature. She liked Alice Carden, and was not disposed to visit any of the father's shortcomings on the daughter.

She had almost forgotten what Sir George said during her drive to the station. It was a crisp day, and a frosty sun was s.h.i.+ning. There was an exhilaration in the air almost like champagne. Before the station was reached May put her troubles behind her, not a very difficult matter for a girl in her twentieth year who boasts of a fine const.i.tution and a perfect flow of animal spirits. Her cheeks were glowing, her eyes sparkling, as she advanced to meet Alice Carden.