The Firm of Girdlestone Read online

  CHAPTER II.

  CHARITY A LA MODE.

  It was a dull October morning in Fenchurch Street, some weeks after theevents with which our story opened. The murky City air looked murkierstill through the glazed office windows. Girdlestone, grim and grey, asthough he were the very embodiment of the weather, stooped over hismahogany table. He had a long list in front of him, on which he waschecking off, as a prelude to the day's work, the position in the marketof the various speculations in which the capital of the firm wasembarked. His son Ezra lounged in an easy chair opposite him, lookingdishevelled and dark under the eyes, for he had been up half the night,and the Nemesis of reaction was upon him.

  "Faugh!" his father ejaculated, glancing round at him with disgust."You have been drinking already this morning."

  "I took a brandy and seltzer on the way to the office," he answeredcarelessly. "I needed one to steady me."

  "A young fellow of your age should not want steadying. You have astrong constitution, but you must not play tricks with it. You musthave been very late last night. It was nearly one before I went tobed."

  "I was playing cards with Major Clutterbuck and one or two others.We kept it up rather late."

  "With Major Clutterbuck?"

  "Yes."

  "I don't care about your consorting so much with that man. He drinksand gambles, and does you no good. What good has he ever done himself?Take care that he does not fleece you." The merchant feltinstinctively, as he glanced at the shrewd, dark face of his son, thatthe warning was a superfluous one.

  "No fear, father," Ezra answered sulkily; "I am old enough to choose myown friends."

  "Why such a friend as that?"

  "I like to know men of that class. You are a successful man, father,but you--well, you can't be much help to me socially. You need some oneto show you the ropes, and the major is my man. When I can stand alone,I'll soon let him know it."

  "Well, go your own way," said Girdlestone shortly. Hard to all theworld, he was soft only in this one direction. From childhood everydiscussion between father and son had ended with the same words.

  "It is business time," he resumed. "Let us confine ourselves tobusiness. I see that Illinois were at 112 yesterday."

  "They are at 113 this morning."

  "What! have you been on 'Change already?"

  "Yes, I dropped in there on my way to the office. I would hold on tothose. They will go up for some days yet."

  The senior partner made a pencil note on the margin of the list.

  "We'll hold on to the cotton we have," he said.

  "No, sell out at once," Ezra answered with decision, "I saw youngFeatherstone, of Liverpool, last night, or rather this morning. It washard to make head or tail of what the fool said, but he let fall enoughto show that there was likely to be a drop."

  Girdlestone made another mark upon the paper. He never questioned hisson's decisions now, for long experience had shown him that they werenever formed without solid grounds. "Take this list, Ezra," he said,handing him the paper, "and run your eye over it. If you see anythingthat wants changing, mark it."

  "I'll do it in the counting-house," his son answered. "I can keep myeye on those lazy scamps of clerks. Gilray has no idea of keeping themin order."

  As he went out he cannoned against an elderly gentleman in a whitewaistcoat, who was being shown in, and who ricochetted off him into theoffice, where he shook hands heartily with the elder Girdlestone.It was evident from the laboured cordiality of the latter's greetingthat the new-comer was a man of some importance. He was, indeed, noneother than the well-known philanthropist, Mr. Jefferson Edwards, M.P.for Middlehurst, whose name upon a bill was hardly second to that ofRothschild.

  "How do, Girdlestone, how do?" he exclaimed, mopping his face with hishandkerchief. He was a fussy little man, with a brusque, nervousmanner. "Hard at it as usual, eh? Always pegging away. Wonderful man.Ha, ha! Wonderful!"

  "You look warm," the merchant answered, rubbing his hands. "Let meoffer you some claret. I have some in the cupboard."

  "No, thank you," the visitor answered, staring across at the head of thefirm as though he were some botanical curiosity. "Extraordinary fellow.'Iron' Girdlestone, they call you in the City. A good name, too--ha! ha!--an excellent name. Iron-grey, you know, and hard to look at,but soft here, my dear sir, soft here." The little man tapped him withhis walking-stick over the cardiac region and laughed boisterously,while his grim companion smiled slightly and bowed to the compliment.

  "I've come here begging," said Mr. Jefferson Edwards, producing aportentous-looking roll of paper from an inner pocket. "Know I've cometo the right place for charity. The Aboriginal Evolution Society, mydear boy. All it wants are a few hundreds to float it off. Noble aim,Girdlestone--glorious object."

  "What _is_ the object?" the merchant asked.

  "Well, the evolution of the aborigines," Edwards answered in someconfusion. "Sort of practical Darwinism. Evolve 'em into higher types,and turn 'em all white in time. Professor Wilder gave us a lectureabout it. I'll send you round a _Times_ with the account. Spoke abouttheir thumbs. They can't cross them over their palms, and they haverudimentary tails, or had until they were educated off them. They woreall the hair off their backs by leaning against trees. Marvellousthings! All they want is a little money."

  "It seems to be a praiseworthy object," the merchant said gravely.

  "I knew that you would think so!" cried the little philanthropistenthusiastically. "Of course, bartering as you do with aboriginalraces, their development and evolution is a matter of the deepestimportance to you. If a man came down to barter with you who had arudimentary tail and couldn't bend his thumb--well, it wouldn't bepleasant, you know. Our idea is to elevate them in the scale ofhumanity and to refine their tastes. Hewett, of the Royal Society, wentto report on the matter a year or so back, and some rather painfulincident occurred. I believe Hewett met with some mishap--in fact, theygo the length of saying that he was eaten. So you see we've had ourmartyrs, my dear friend, and the least that we can do who stay at homeat ease is to support a good cause to the best of our ability."

  "Whose names have you got?" asked the merchant.

  "Let's see," Jefferson Edwards said, unfolding his list. "Spriggs, ten;Morton, ten; Wigglesworth, five; Hawkins, ten; Indermann, fifteen;Jones, five; and a good many smaller amounts."

  "What is the highest as yet?"

  "Indermann, the tobacco importer, has given fifteen."

  "It is a good cause," Mr. Girdlestone said, dipping his pen into theink-bottle. "'He that giveth'--you know what the good old Book says.Of course a list of the donations will be printed and circulated?"

  "Most certainly."

  "Here is my cheque for twenty-five pounds. I am proud to have had thisopportunity of contributing towards the regeneration of those poor soulswhom Providence has placed in a lower sphere than myself."

  "Girdlestone," said the member of Parliament with emotion, as hepocketed the cheque, "you are a good man. I shall not forget this, myfriend; I shall never forget it."

  "Wealth has its duties, and charity is among them," Girdlestoneanswered with unction, shaking the philanthropist's extended hand."Good-bye, my dear sir. Pray let me know if our efforts are attendedwith any success. Should more money be needed, you know one who may berelied on."

  There was a sardonic smile upon the hard face of the senior partner ashe closed the door behind his visitor. "It's a legitimate investment,"he muttered to himself as he resumed his seat. "What with hisParliamentary interest and his financial power, it's a very legitimateinvestment. It looks well on the list, too, and inspires confidence.I think the money is well spent."

  Ezra had bowed politely as the great man passed through the office, andGilray, the wizened senior clerk, opened the outer door. JeffersonEdwards turned as he passed him and clapped him on the shoulder.

  "Lucky fellow," he said in his jerky way. "Good employer--model tofollow--
great man. Watch him, mark him, imitate him--that's the way toget on. Can't go wrong," and he trotted down the street in search offresh contributions towards his latest fad.