Families -- Fiction; Forgery -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
"My instructions were to give reasonable time, and not to proceed with
the arrest if there was any possibility of the money being forthcoming,
or a part of it, not less than two hundred and fifty--cash."
"Can you wait till this evening?" pleaded the rector, hopelessly, "while
I see what can be done. You've taken me at a disadvantage. My son is not
here now. He won't be back till after midday."
"If there is any likelihood of your being able to do anything by evening,
of course--"
"He'll wait. He must wait," cried Mrs. Swinton, taking up her muff. "I'll
have to see father about it."
"You must wait till this evening, my man."
"All right, then. Until six o'clock?"
"Yes."
"Very well, six o'clock," the man agreed, and withdrew.
"I can't bear to think of your going to your father again, Mary," sighed
the rector, bitterly. "Dick has been a shocking muddler in his
affairs--as bad as his father, without his father's excuse. God knows,
I've been too busy with parish affairs to attend properly to my own,
whereas he--"
"He is young, John," pleaded the indulgent mother, "and ought to be in
receipt of a handsome allowance from his grandfather. He has only been
spending what really should be his."
"Sophistry, my darling, sophistry!"
"At any rate, I'm going up to my father to get money from him, by hook or
by crook. We must have it, or we are irretrievably ruined."
CHAPTER VI
A KINSHIP SOMETHING LESS THAN KIND
"Pull the blinds higher and raise my pillows, do you hear, woman? I want
to see what that lazy scamp of a husband of yours is about--loafing for a
certainty, if he thinks no one can see him."
Herresford addressed his housekeeper, the wife of Ripon, the
head-gardener. Mrs. Ripon bit her lip as she tugged at the blind cords
savagely, and gave her master a defiant look, which he was quick to see.
It apparently amused him, for he smiled grimly.
"Oh, yes, yes, I know what you want to say," he snarled: "that I grind
you all down, and treat you as slaves. That, my good woman, is where you
make a mistake. Yet, you are slaves--slaves, do you hear? And I intend to
see that you don't rob me, for to waste the time that I pay for is to rob
me."
"Well, sir, if we don't suit you, we can go."
"My good woman, you'd have gone long ago, if it hadn't suited my
convenience to retain you. Ripon is a good gardener; you are a good
housekeeper. You both know the value of money. We happen to suit each
other. Your husband has more sense than you. He does the work of two men,
and he's paid for it. If the positions were reversed, he would be quite
as hard a master as I; that's why I like him. He gets quite as much out
of those under his control as I get out of him--only he doesn't pay 'em
double."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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