It was ten o’clock, and Lucian and Haidee were breakfasting. They invariably spent a good hour over this meal, for both were possessed2 of hearty3 appetites, and Lucian always read his letters and his newspapers while he ate and drank. He was alternately devoting himself to his plate and to a leading article in the Times, when the footman entered and announced that Mr. Pepperdine wished to see him. Lucian choked down a mouthful, uttered a joyous4 exclamation5, and rushed into the hall. Mr. Pepperdine, in all the glories of a particularly horsy suit of clothes, was gazing about him as if he had got into a museum. He had visited Lucian’s house before, and always went about in it with his mouth wide open and an air of expectancy—there was usually something fresh to see, and he never quite knew where he might come across it.
‘My dear uncle!’ cried Lucian, seizing him in his arms and dragging him into the dining-room, ‘why didn’t you let me know you were coming? Have you breakfasted? Have some more, any way—get into that chair.’
Mr. Pepperdine solemnly shook hands with Haidee,{141} who liked him because he betrayed such ardent6 and whole-souled admiration7 of her and had once bought her a pair of wonderful ponies8, assured himself by a careful inspection9 that she was as pretty as ever, and took a chair, but not at the table. He had breakfasted, he said, at his hotel, two hours earlier.
‘Then have a drink,’ said Lucian, and rang the bell for whisky and soda10. ‘How is everybody at Simonstower?’
‘All well,’ answered Mr. Pepperdine, ‘very well indeed, except that Keziah has begun to suffer a good deal from rheumatism11. It’s a family complaint. I’m glad to see you both well and hearty—you keep the roses in your cheeks, ma’am, and the light in your eyes, something wonderful, considering that you are a townbird, as one may say. There are country maidens12 with less colour and brightness, so there are!’
‘You said that so prettily13 that I shall allow you to smoke a cigar, if you like,’ said Haidee. ‘Lucian, your case.’
Mr. Pepperdine shook his head knowingly as he lighted a cigar and sipped14 his whisky and soda. He knew a pretty woman when he saw her, he said to himself, and it was his opinion that Mrs. Lucian Damerel was uncommonly15 pretty. Whenever he came to see her he could never look at her enough, and Haidee, who accepted admiration on principle, used to smile at him and air her best behaviour. She was sufficiently16 woman of the world to overlook the fact that Mr. Pepperdine was a tenant-farmer and used the language of the people—he was a handsome man and a dandy in his way, and he was by no means backward, in spite of his confirmed bachelorhood, of letting a pretty woman see that he had an eye for beauty. So she made herself very agreeable to Mr. Pepperdine and told him stories of the ponies, and Lucian chatted of various things, and Mr. Pepperdine, taking in the general air of comfort and luxury which surrounded these young people, felt that his nephew had begun life in fine style and was uncommonly clever.{142}
They went into Lucian’s study when breakfast was over, and Lucian lighted a pipe and began to chat carelessly of Simonstower and old times there. Mr. Pepperdine, however, changed the subject somewhat abruptly17.
‘Lucian, my boy,’ he said, ‘I’ll tell you what’s brought me here: I want you to lend me a thousand pounds for a twelvemonth. Will you do that?’
‘Why, of course!’ exclaimed Lucian. ‘I shall be only too pleased—for as long as ever you like.’
‘A year will do for me,’ answered Mr. Pepperdine. ‘I’ll explain matters,’ and he went on to tell Lucian the story of the Bransby defalcations, and his own loss, and of the late Lord Simonstower’s generosity18. ‘He was very good about it, was the old lord,’ he said: ‘it made things easy for me while he lived, but now he’s dead, and I can’t expect the new lord to be as considerate. I’ve had a tightish time lately, Lucian, my boy, and money’s been scarce; but you can have your thousand pounds back at the twelvemonth end—I’m a man of my word in all matters.’
‘My dear uncle!’ exclaimed Lucian, ‘there must be no talk of that sort between us. Of course you shall have the money at once—that is as soon as we can get to the bank. Or will a cheque do?’
‘Aught that’s of the value of a thousand pounds’ll do for me,’ replied Mr. Pepperdine. ‘I want to complete a certain transaction with the money this afternoon, and if you give me a cheque I can call in at your bank.’
Lucian produced his cheque-book and wrote out a cheque for the amount which his uncle wished to borrow. Mr. Pepperdine insisted upon drawing up a formal memorandum19 of its receipt, and admonished20 his nephew to put it carefully away with his other business papers. But Lucian never kept any business papers—his usual practice was to tear everything up that looked like a business document and throw the fragments into the waste-paper basket. He would treasure the most obscure second-hand21 bookseller’s catalogue as if it had{143} been a gilt-edged security, but bills and receipts and business letters annoyed him, and Mr. Pepperdine’s carefully scrawled22 sheet of notepaper went into the usual receptacle as soon as its writer had left the room. And as he crumpled23 it up and threw it into the basket, laughing at the old-fashioned habits of his uncle, Lucian also threw off all recollection of the incident and became absorbed in his new tragedy.
Coming in from the theatre that night he found a little pile of letters waiting for him on the hall table, and he took them into his study and opened them carelessly. There was a long epistle from Mrs. Berenson—he read half of it and threw that and the remaining sheets away with an exclamation of impatience24. There was a note from the great actor-manager who was going to produce the new tragedy—he laid that open on his desk and put a paper-weight upon it. The rest of his letters were invitations, requests for autographs, gushing25 epistles from admiring readers, and so on—he soon bundled them all together and laid them aside. But there was one which he had kept to the last—a formal-looking affair with the name of his bank engraved26 on the flap of the envelope, and he opened it with some curiosity. The letter which it enclosed was short and formal, but when Lucian had read it he recognised in some vague and not very definite fashion that it constituted an epoch27. He read it again and yet again, with knitted brows and puzzled eyes, and then he put it on his desk and sat staring at it as if he did not understand the news which it was meant to convey to him.
It was a very commonplace communication this, but Lucian had never seen anything of its sort before. It was just a brief, politely worded note from his bankers, informing him that they had that day paid a cheque for one thousand pounds, drawn28 by him in favour of Simpson Pepperdine, Esquire, and that his account was now overdrawn29 by the sum of ￡187, 10s. 0d. That was all—there was not even a delicately expressed request to him to put the account in credit.{144}
Lucian could not quite realise what this letter meant; he said nothing to Haidee of it, but after breakfast next morning he drove to the bank and asked to see the manager. Once closeted with that gentleman in his private room he drew out the letter and laid it on the desk at which the manager sat.
‘I don’t quite understand this letter,’ he said. ‘Would you mind explaining it to me?’
The manager smiled.
‘It seems quite plain, I think,’ he said pleasantly. ‘It means that your account is overdrawn to the amount of ￡187, 10s. 0d.’
Lucian sat down and stared at him.
‘Does that mean that I have exhausted30 all the money I placed in your hands, and have drawn on you for ￡187, 10s. 0d. in addition?’ he asked.
‘Precisely, Mr. Damerel,’ answered the manager. ‘Your balance yesterday morning was about ￡820, and you drew a cheque in favour of Mr. Pepperdine for ￡1000. That, of course, puts you in our debt.’
Lucian stared harder than ever.
‘You’re quite sure there is no mistake?’ he said.
The manager smiled.
‘Quite sure!’ he replied. ‘But surely you have had your pass-book?’
Lucian had dim notions that a small book bound in parchment had upon occasions been handed to him over the counter of the bank, and on others had been posted by him to the bank at some clerk’s request; he also remembered that he had once opened it and found it full of figures, at the sight of which he had hastily closed it again.
‘I suppose I have,’ he answered.
‘I believe it is in our possession just now,’ said the manager. ‘If you will excuse me one moment I will fetch it.’
He came back with the pass-book in his hand and offered it to Lucian.
‘It is posted up to date,’ he said.{145}
Lucian took the book and turned its pages over.
‘Yes, but—’ he said. ‘I—do I understand that all the money that has been paid in to my account here is now spent? You have received royalties31 on my behalf from Mr. Robertson and from Mr. Harcourt of the Athen?um?’
‘You will find them all specified32 in the pass-book, Mr. Damerel,’ said the manager. ‘There will, I presume, be further payments to come from the same sources?’
‘Of course there will be the royalties from Mr. Robertson every half-year,’ answered Lucian, turning the pages of his pass-book. ‘And Mr. Harcourt produces my new tragedy at the Athen?um in December.’
‘That,’ said the manager, with a polite bow, ‘is sure to be successful.’
‘But,’ said Lucian, with a childlike candour, ‘what am I to do if you have no money of mine left? I can’t go on without money.’
The manager laughed.
‘We shall be pleased to allow you an overdraft33,’ he said. ‘Give us some security, or get a friend of stability to act as guarantor for you—that’s all that’s necessary. I suppose the new tragedy will bring you a small fortune? You did very well out of your first play, if I remember rightly.’
‘I can easily procure34 a guarantor,’ answered Lucian. His thoughts had immediately flown to Darlington. ‘Yes,’ he continued, ‘I think we shall have a long run—longer, perhaps, than before.’
Then he went away, announcing that he would make the necessary arrangements. When he had gone, the manager, to satisfy a momentary35 curiosity of his own, made a brief inspection of Lucian’s account. He smiled a little as he totalled it up. Mr. and Mrs. Lucian Damerel had gone through seventeen thousand pounds in four years, and of that amount twelve thousand represented capital.
Lucian carried the mystifying pass-book to his club{146} and began to study the rows of figures. They made his head ache and his eyes burn, and the only conclusion he came to was that a few thousands of pounds are soon spent, and that Haidee of late had been pretty prodigal36 with her cheques. One fact was absolutely certain: his ten thousand, and her two thousand, and the five thousand which he had earned, were all gone, never to return. He felt somewhat depressed37 at this thought, but recovered his spirits when he remembered the value of his pictures, his books, and his other possessions, and the prospects38 of increased royalties in the golden days to be. He went off to seek out Darlington in the city as joyously40 as if he had been embarking41 on a voyage to the Hesperides.
Darlington was somewhat surprised to see Lucian in Lombard Street. He knew all the details of Lucian’s business within ten minutes, and had made up his mind within two more.
‘Of course, I’ll do it with pleasure, old chap,’ he said, with great heartiness42. ‘But I think I can suggest something far preferable. These people don’t seem to have given you any particular advantages, and there was no need for them to bother you with a letter reminding you that you owed them a miserable43 couple of hundred. Look here: you had better open two accounts with us; one for yourself and one for Mrs. Damerel, and keep them distinct—after all, you know, women rather mix things up. Give Robertson and Harcourt instructions to pay your royalties into your own account here, and pay your household expenses and bills out of it. Mrs. Damerel’s account won’t be a serious matter—mere pinmoney, you know—and we can balance it out of yours at periodic intervals44. That’s a much more convenient and far simpler thing than giving the other people a guarantee for an overdraft.’
‘It seems to be so, certainly,’ said Lucian. ‘Thanks, very many. And what am I to do in arranging this?’
‘At present,’ answered Darlington, ‘you are to run away as quickly as possible, for I’m over the ears in{147} work. Come in this afternoon at three o’clock, and we will settle the whole thing.’
Lucian went out into the crowded streets, light-hearted and joyous as ever. The slight depression of the morning had worn off; all the world was gold again. A whim45 seized him: he would spend the three hours between twelve and three in wandering about the city—it was an almost unknown region to him. He had read much of it, but rarely seen it, and the prospect39 of an acquaintance with it was alluring47. So he wandered hither and thither48, his taste for the antique leading him into many a quaint46 old court and quiet alley49, and he was fortunate enough to find an old-fashioned tavern50 and an old-world waiter, and there he lunched and enjoyed himself and went back to Darlington’s office in excellent spirits and ready to do anything.
There was little to do. Lucian left the private banking51 establishment of Darlington and Darlington a few minutes after he had entered it, and he then carried with him two cheque-books, one for himself and one for Haidee, and a request that Mrs. Damerel should call at the office and append her signature to the book wherein the autographs of customers were preserved. He went home and found Haidee just returned from lunching with Lady Firmanence: Lucian conducted her into his study with some importance.
‘Look here, Haidee,’ he said, ‘I’ve been making some new business arrangements. We’re going to bank at Darlington’s in future—it’s much the wiser plan; and you are to have a separate account. That’s your cheque-book. I say—we’ve rather gone it lately, you know. Don’t you think we might economise a little?’
Haidee stared, grew perplexed52, and frowned.
‘I think I’m awfully53 careful,’ she said. ‘If you think——’
Lucian saw signs of trouble and hastened to dispel54 them.
‘Yes, yes,’ he said hurriedly, ‘I know, of course, that you are. We’ve had such a lot of absolutely necessary{148} expense, haven’t we? Well, there’s your cheque-book, and the account is your own, you know.’
Haidee asked no questions, and carried the cheque-book away. When she had gone, Lucian wrote out a cheque for ￡187, 10s. and forwarded it to his former bankers, with a covering letter in which he explained that it was intended to balance his account and that he wished to close the latter. That done, he put all thoughts of money out of his mind with a mighty55 sigh of relief. In his own opinion he had accomplished56 a hard day’s work and acquitted57 himself with great credit. Everything, he thought, had been quite simple, quite easy. And in thinking so he was right—nothing simpler, nothing easier, could be imagined than the operation which had put Lucian and Haidee in funds once more. It had simply consisted of a brief order, given by Eustace Darlington to his manager, to the effect that all cheques bearing the signatures of Mr. and Mrs. Damerel were to be honoured on presentation, and that there was to be no limit to their credit.
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1
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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2
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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3
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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4
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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5
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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6
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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7
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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8
ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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9
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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10
soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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11
rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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12
maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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13
prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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14
sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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16
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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17
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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18
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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19
memorandum
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| n.备忘录，便笺 | |
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20
admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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21
second-hand
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| adj.用过的，旧的，二手的 | |
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22
scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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24
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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25
gushing
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| adj.迸出的；涌出的；喷出的；过分热情的v.喷，涌( gush的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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26
engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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27
epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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28
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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29
overdrawn
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| 透支( overdraw的过去分词 )； (overdraw的过去分词) | |
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30
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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31
royalties
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| 特许权使用费 | |
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32
specified
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| adj.特定的 | |
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33
overdraft
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| n.透支，透支额 | |
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34
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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35
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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36
prodigal
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| adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的 | |
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37
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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38
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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39
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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40
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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41
embarking
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| 乘船( embark的现在分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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42
heartiness
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| 诚实，热心 | |
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43
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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44
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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45
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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46
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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47
alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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48
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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49
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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50
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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51
banking
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| n.银行业，银行学，金融业 | |
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52
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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53
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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54
dispel
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| vt.驱走，驱散，消除 | |
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55
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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56
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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57
acquitted
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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