Mortomley's Estate: A Novel. Vol. 2 (of 3)Riddell, J. H., Mrs.
General
Mortomley's Estate: A Novel. Vol. 2 (of 3)
Riddell, J. H., Mrs.
Bankruptcy -- Fiction; England -- Fiction
If all his future had depended upon holding his peace at that moment,
Rupert must have answered,
"That you seem to have done remarkably well for yourself at any rate."
"You are right," said Mr. Dean briskly, appropriating the remark as a
compliment. "And in doing well for myself, I have done well for others.
I have employed clerks and servants. I have paid good salaries. I have
never set myself up as being ashamed of my business, and my business has
not been ashamed of me. I have never tried to push out of my own rank in
life, but I have sat at banquets side by side with a lord, and many a
time I have spoken after an earl at a public meeting. I might have stood
for member of parliament, and may yet be in the House if after a year or
two I feel disposed to interest myself in politics. Contrast my position
with that of your clever uncle and say whether you do not agree with me
that the true meaning of genius is success. Will not your sister be a
vast deal better off at Elm Park with everything money can buy, than
your little Mrs. Mortomley at Homewood with the sheriff's officer in
possession? Am not I right in what I say? Have not I reason on my side?"
"You have so much reason," answered Rupert a little sadly, "that before
long I shall come and ask your advice as to how I am to compass success.
To-night I have to take Leytonstone on my way back to Whip's Cross, a
ride all round Robin Hood's Barn, is it not?"
"What are you going to Leytonstone for?" asked Mr. Dean.
"I--I have to see a man about a picture he wants me to paint for him,"
hesitated Rupert, for he did not wish to state the real errand on which
he was bound, and, plausible romancer though he could be on occasion,
Mr. Dean's question took him by surprise.
"Ah!" remarked Mr. Dean, a comfortable feeling of conscious
righteousness diffusing a heightened colour over his face, already
highly coloured with the glow of virtue and thirty-four port. "You must
give up all that sort of work if you wish to be successful. I have never
opened a ledger on Sunday, and I have tried to put business out of my
mind altogether. If a man is to be successful, he must conform to all
the usages of the country in which he happens to be placed. Now we are
placed in England, and I do not know any country in which religion is
made so easy; and if you think of it, religion is a most useful
institution. It teaches the poor their proper place, and--"
Rupert could stand no more of this. "I have lived in a house, Mr. Dean,"
he answered, "where, I think, there was one genuine Christian at any
rate, and I agree with you and him, that Sunday labour for gentle or
simple is a thing to be avoided; but my work to-night is a work of
necessity, and the Bible pronounces no curse on our performing it in
such a case as that!"
"No, no, certainly not; I suppose you are short of money. Well, good
evening; tell Mrs. Mortomley I will try to forget all she said to-day."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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