CHAPTER XII. A FAMILY JAR.
And so the great secret was out, and Robert walked home with his head ina whirl, and the blood tingling in his veins. He had shivered as hecame up at the damp cold of the wind and the sight of the mist-mottledlandscape. That was all gone now. His own thoughts tinged everythingwith sunshine, and he felt inclined to sing and dance as he walkeddown the muddy, deeply-rutted country lane. Wonderful had been the fateallotted to Raffles Haw, but surely hardly less important that which hadcome upon himself. He was the sharer of the alchemist's secret, andthe heir to an inheritance which combined a wealth greater than that ofmonarchs, to a freedom such as monarchs cannot enjoy. This was a destinyindeed! A thousand gold-tinted visions of his future life rose upbefore him, and in fancy he already sat high above the human race,with prostrate thousands imploring his aid, or thanking him for hisbenevolence.
How sordid seemed the untidy garden, with its scrappy bushes and gauntelm trees! How mean the plain brick front, with the green wooden porch!It had always offended his artistic sense, but now it was obtrusive inits ugliness. The plain room, too, with the American leather chairs, thedull-coloured carpet, and the patchwork rug, he felt a loathing for itall. The only pretty thing in it, upon which his eyes could rest withsatisfaction, was his sister, as she leaned back in her chair by thefire with her white, clear beautiful face outlined against the darkbackground.
"Do you know, Robert," she said, glancing up at him from under her longblack lashes, "Papa grows unendurable. I have had to speak very plainlyto him, and to make him understand that I am marrying for my own benefitand not for his."
"Where is he, then?"
"I don't know. At the Three Pigeons, no doubt. He spends most of histime there now. He flew off in a passion, and talked such nonsense aboutmarriage settlements, and forbidding the banns, and so on. His notionof a marriage settlement appears to be a settlement upon the bride'sfather. He should wait quietly, and see what can be done for him."
"I think, Laura, that we must make a good deal of allowance for him,"said Robert earnestly. "I have noticed a great change in him lately. Idon't think he is himself at all. I must get some medical advice. But Ihave been up at the Hall this morning."
"Have you? Have you seen Raffles? Did he send anything for me?"
"He said that he would come down when he had finished his work."
"But what is the matter, Robert?" cried Laura, with the swift perceptionof womanhood. "You are flushed, and your eyes are shining, and reallyyou look quite handsome. Raffles has been telling you something! Whatwas it? Oh, I know! He has been telling you how he made his money.Hasn't he, now?"
"Well, yes. He took me partly into his confidence. I congratulate you,Laura, with all my heart, for you will be a very wealthy woman."
"How strange it seems that he should have come to us in our poverty.It is all owing to you, you dear old Robert; for if he had not taken afancy to you, he would never have come down to Elmdene and taken a fancyto some one else."
"Not at all," Robert answered, sitting down by his sister, and pattingher hand affectionately. "It was a clear case of love at first sight.He was in love with you before he ever knew your name. He asked me aboutyou the very first time I saw him."
"But tell me about his money, Bob," said his sister. "He has not toldme yet, and I am so curious. How did he make it? It was not from hisfather; he told me that himself. His father was just a country doctor.How did he do it?"
"I am bound over to secrecy. He will tell you himself."
"Oh, but only tell me if I guess right. He had it left him by an uncle,eh? Well, by a friend? Or he took out some wonderful patent? Or hediscovered a mine? Or oil? Do tell me, Robert!"
"I mustn't, really," cried her brother laughing. "And I must not talk toyou any more. You are much too sharp. I feel a responsibility about it;and, besides, I must really do some work."
"It Is very unkind of you," said Laura, pouting. "But I must put mythings on, for I go into Birmingham by the 1.20."
"To Birmingham?"
"Yes, I have a hundred things to order. There is everything to be got.You men forget about these details. Raffles wishes to have the weddingin little more than a fortnight. Of course it will be very quiet, butstill one needs something."
"So early as that!" said Robert, thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps it isbetter so."
"Much better, Robert. Would it not be dreadful if Hector came back firstand there was a scene? If I were once married I should not mind. Whyshould I? But of course Raffles knows nothing about him, and it would beterrible if they came together."
"That must be avoided at any cost."
"Oh, I cannot bear even to think of it. Poor Hector! And yet what couldI do, Robert? You know that it was only a boy and girl affair. And howcould I refuse such an offer as this? It was a duty to my family, was itnot?"
"You were placed in a difficult position--very difficult," her brotheranswered. "But all will be right, and I have no doubt Hector will see itas you do. But does Mr. Spurling know of your engagement?"
"Not a word. He was here yesterday, and talked of Hector, but indeed Idid not know how to tell him. We are to be married by special licence inBirmingham, so really there is no reason why he should know. But now Imust hurry or I shall miss my train."
When his sister was gone Robert went up to his studio, and havingground some colours upon his palette he stood for some time, brush andmahlstick in hand, in front of his big bare canvas. But how profitlessall his work seemed to him now! What object had he in doing it? Was itto earn money? Money could be had for the asking, or, for that matter,without the asking. Or was it to produce a thing of beauty? But he hadartistic faults. Raffles Haw had said so, and he knew that he was right.After all his pains the thing might not please; and with money he couldat all times buy pictures which would please, and which would be thingsof beauty. What, then, was the object of his working? He could see none.He threw down his brush, and, lighting his pipe, he strolled downstairsonce more.
His father was standing in front of the fire, and in no very goodhumour, as his red face and puckered eyes sufficed to show.
"Well, Robert," he began, "I suppose that, as usual, you have spent yourmorning plotting against your father?"
"What do you mean, father?"
"I mean what I say. What is it but plotting when three folk--you and sheand this Raffles Haw--whisper and arrange and have meetings without aword to me about it? What do I know of your plans?"
"I cannot tell you secrets which are not my own, father."
"But I'll have a voice in the matter, for all that. Secrets or nosecrets, you will find that Laura has a father, and that he is not a manto be set aside. I may have had my ups and downs in trade, but I havenot quite fallen so low that I am nothing in my own family. What am I toget out of this precious marriage?"
"What should you get? Surely Laura's happiness and welfare are enoughfor you?"
"If this man were really fond of Laura he would show properconsideration for Laura's father. It was only yesterday that I asked himfor a loan-condescended actually to ask for it--I, who have been withinan ace of being Mayor of Birmingham! And he refused me point blank."
"Oh, father! How could you expose yourself to such humiliation?"
"Refused me point blank!" cried the old man excitedly. "It was againsthis principles, if you please. But I'll be even with him--you see if Iam not. I know one or two things about him. What is it they call him atthe Three Pigeons? A 'smasher'--that's the word-a coiner of falsemoney. Why else should he have this metal sent him, and that great smokychimney of his going all day?"
"Why can you not leave him alone, father?" expostulated Robert. "Youseem to think of nothing but his money. If he had not a penny he wouldstill be a very kind-hearted, pleasant gentleman."
Old McIntyre burst into a hoarse laugh.
"I like to hear you preach," said he. "Without a penny, indeed! Do youthink that you would dance attendance upon him if he were a poor man?Do you think that Laura woul
d ever have looked twice at him? You know aswell as I do that she is marrying him only for his money."
Robert gave a cry of dismay. There was the alchemist standing in thedoorway, pale and silent, looking from one to the other of them with hissearching eyes.
"I must apologise," he said coldly. "I did not mean to listen to yourwords. I could not help it. But I have heard them. As to you, Mr.McIntyre, I believe that you speak from your own bad heart. I will notlet myself be moved by your words. In Robert I have a true friend. Lauraalso loves me for my own sake. You cannot shake my faith in them. Butwith you, Mr. McIntyre, I have nothing in common; and it is as well,perhaps, that we should both recognise the fact."
He bowed, and was gone ere either of the McIntyres could say a word.
"You see!" said Robert at last. "You have done now what you cannotundo!"
"I will be even with him!" cried the old man furiously, shaking hisfist through the window at the dark slow-pacing figure. "You just wait,Robert, and see if your old dad is a man to be played with."