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One Of Them

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Год написания книги
2017
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“Were they happy in this theory?” you ask, perhaps. It is very hard to answer the question. They were undoubtedly what is called “jolly;” they laughed much, and seemed marvellously free from care and anxiety.

“And so, Trover,” said Stocmar, as he sipped his claret luxuriously, – “and so you tell me this is a bad season with you out here, – few travellers, no residents, and little stirring in the way of discounts and circular notes.”

“Wretched! miserable!” cried the banker. “The people who come out from England nowadays are mostly small twenty-pounders, looking sharp to the exchanges, and watching the quotations like money-brokers.”

“Where are the fast men all gone to? That is a problem puzzles me much,” said Paten.

“They have gone over to Puseyism, and stained glass, and Saint Winifred’s shin-bones, and early Christian art,” broke in Stocmar. “I know them well, and their velvet paletots cut in the mediaeval fashion, and their hair cut straight over the forehead.”

“How slow a place must become with such fellows!” sighed Paten.

“The women are mostly pretty; they dress with a sort of quaint coquetry very attractive, and they have a kind of demure slyness about them, with a fascination all its own.”

“We have the exact type you describe here at this moment now,” said the banker. “She never goes into society, but steals furtively about the galleries, making copies of old Giottos, and such-like, and even penetrating into the monasteries with a special permission from the Cardinal-Secretary to examine the frescos.”

“Is she young? Is she pretty?” asked Stocmar.

“She is both, and a widow, I believe, – at least, her letters come to the bank addressed Mrs. Penthony Morris.”

Paten started, but a slight kick under the table from Stocmar recalled him to caution and self-possession.

“Tell us more about her, Trover; all that you know, in fact.”

“Five words will suffice for that. She lives here with the family of a certain Sir William Heathcote, and apparently exercises no small influence amongst them; at least, the tradespeople tell me they are referred to her for everything, and all the letters we get about transfers of stock, and suchlike, are in her hand.”

“You have met her, and spoken with her, I suppose?” asked Stocmar.

“Only once. I waited upon her, at her request, to confer with her about her daughter, whom she had some intention of placing at the Conservatoire at Milan, as a preparation for the stage, and some one had told her that I knew all the details necessary.”

“Have you seen the girl?”

“Yes, and heard her sing. Frightened enough she was, poor thing; but she has a voice like Sontag’s, just a sort of mellow, rich tone they run upon just now, and with a compass equal to Malibran’s.”

“And her look?”

“Strikingly handsome. She is very young; her mother says nigh sixteen, but I should guess her at under fifteen certainly. I thought at once of writing to you, Stocmar, when I saw her. I know how eagerly you snatch up such a chance as this; but as you were on your way out, I deferred to mention her till you came.”

“And what counsel did you give her, Trover?”

“I said, ‘By all means devote her to the Opera. It is to women, in our age, what the career of politics is to men, the only royal road to high ambition.’”

“That is what I tell all my young prime donne,” said Stocmar. “I never fail to remind them that any débutante may live to be a duchess.”

“And they believe you?” asked Paten.

“To be sure they do. Why, man, there is an atmosphere of credulity about a theatre that makes one credit anything, except what is palpably true. Every manager fancies he is making a fortune; every tenor imagines he is to marry a princess; and every fiddler in the orchestra firmly believes in the time when a breathless audience will be listening to his ‘solo.’”

“I wish, with all my heart, I was on the stage, then,” exclaimed Paten. “I should certainly like to imbibe some of this sanguine spirit.”

“You are too old a dram-drinker, Ludlow, to be intoxicated with such light tipple,” said Stocmar. “You have tasted of the real ‘tap.’”

“That have I,” said he, with a sigh that told how intensely he felt the words; and then, as if to overcome the sad impression, he asked, “And the girl, is she to take to the stage?”

“I believe Stocmar will have to decide the point; at least, I told her mother that he was on his way to Italy, and that his opinion on such a matter might be deemed final. Our friend here,” continued Trover, as he pointed laughingly to Stocmar, – “our friend here buys up these budding celebrities just as Anderson would a yearling colt, and, like him too, would reckon himself well paid if one succeed in twenty.”

“Ay, one in fifty, Trover,” broke in Stocmar. “It is quite true. Many a stone does not pay for the cutting; but as we always get the lot cheap, we can afford to stand the risk.”

“She’s a strange sort of woman, this Mrs. Morris,” said Trover, after a pause, “for she seems hesitating between the Conservatoire and a convent.”

“Is the girl a Catholic?”

“No; but her mother appears to consider that as a minor circumstance; in fact, she strikes me as one of those people who, when they determine to go to a place, are certain to cut out a road for themselves.”

“That she is!” exclaimed Paten.

“Oh, then, you are acquainted with her?” cried Trover.

“No, no,” said he, hurriedly. “I was merely judging from your description of her. Such a woman as you have pictured I can imagine, just as if I had known her all my life.”

“I should like to see both mother and daughter,” broke in Stocmar.

“I fancy she will have no objection; at least, she said to me, ‘You will not fail to inform me of your friend Mr. Stocmar’s arrival here;’ and I promised as much.”

“Well, you must arrange our meeting speedily, Trover, for I mean to be at Naples next week, at Barcelona and Madrid the week after. The worthy Public, for whose pleasure I provide, will, above all things, have novelty, – excellence, if you can, but novelty must be procured them.”

“Leave it to me, and you shall have an interview tomorrow or the day after.”

A strange telegraphic intelligence seemed to pass from Paten to the manager, for Stocmar quickly said, “By the way, don’t drop any hint that Paten is with me; he has n’t got the best of reputations behind the scenes, and it would, perhaps, mar all our arrangements to mention him.”

Trover put a finger to his lips in sign of secrecy, and said, “You are right there. She repeatedly questioned me on the score of your own morality, Stocmar, expressing great misgivings about theatrical folk generally.”

“Take my word for it, then, the lady is a fast one herself,” said Stocmar; “for, like the virtuous Pangloss, she knows what wickedness is.”

“It is deuced hard to say what she is,” broke in Trover. “My partner, Twist, declares she must have been a stockbroker or a notary public. She knows the whole share-list of Europe, and can quote you the ‘price current’ of every security in the Old World or the New; not to say that she is deeply versed in all the wily relations between the course of politics and the exchanges, and can surmise, to a nicety, how every spoken word of a minister can react upon the money-market.”

“She cannot have much to do with such interests, I take it,” said Paten, in assumed indifference.

“Not upon her own account, certainly,” replied Trover; “but such is her influence over this old Baronet, that she persuades him to sell out here, and buy in there, just as the mood inclines her.”

“And is he so very rich?” asked Stocmar.

“Twist thinks not; he suspects that the money all belongs to a certain Miss Leslie, the ward of Sir William, but who came of age a short time back.”

“Now, what may her fortune be?” said Stocmar, in a careless tone; “in round numbers, I mean, and not caring for a few thousands more or less.”

“I have no means of knowing. I can only guess it must be very large. It was only on Tuesday last she bought in about seven-and-twenty thousand ‘Arkansas New Bonds,’ and we have an order this morning to transfer thirty-two thousand more into Illinois ‘Sevens.’”

“All going to America!” cried Paten. “Why does she select investment there?”
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