The Woman with One Hand, and Mr. Ely's Engagement

"Flattering, upon my word!" Mr. Ely was just able to articulate.

But Miss Truscott only looked at him and laughed.

"But the morning after, that stage had passed away, and with it all the things which appertained to it had gone-whether you call it Pompey or Mr. Ely, it is just the same, those things had gone-I was sane again, in my right mind. Love claimed me on that day, and, of course when love claimed me I was his. For to think" – she bore herself quite straight, with her head a little back, so that, in some strange way, she seemed to have grown in stature before their very eyes-"for to think that this to me means love" – she motioned to Mr. Ely with her hand-"this little gentleman of stocks and shares-it is the most foolish thing that ever yet I heard. None knows better than this gentleman himself that love is just the thing he does not even care to understand; and to me, love, with the eternity of meaning the little word conveys, is all the world."

She favoured Mr. Ely with her most sweeping curtsey, the sweetest mockery of laughter in her eyes.

"Mr. Ely, I wish you, sir, good day. For the engagement-ring which cost you twenty pounds I hope that you will find a wearer soon."

She went to the window, and stood just outside, with her finger on her lips.

"One word in confidence. Next time you ask a girl to be your wife, do not insist upon it as your chiefest qualification for the married state that you are indeed a business man!"

She passed down the steps, and across the lawn, and went away; and directly she was out of sight they heard her voice upraised in a burst of joyous song.

CHAPTER XVI

THUNDER IN THE AIR

There was silence in the room-an awkward silence. For some moments nobody seemed to think that there was anything left to say. It was noticeable that neither of the trio seemed to care to look the other in the face. Mr. Ely stood with his hands thrust to the extremest depths of his trouser pockets, staring moodily, not to say savagely, at the window through which Miss Truscott had disappeared. Mr. Ash stroked his chin with something of an embarrassed air-he did not seem to know where to rest his eyes. From the expression of her countenance, and from her bearing altogether, Mrs. Clive seemed to have had the faculty of speech knocked out of her.

As perhaps was natural, Mr. Ely was the first who found his tongue. He pointed his words by looking at Mrs. Clive out of the corners of his eyes.

"That's a nice way in which to bring up a girl!"

His tone was distinctly venomous. Mr. Ash continued to stroke his chin.

"It does seem," he hazarded, in a sort of deprecatory undertone, "it does seem as though she had imbibed some curious ideas."

"That's the sort of girl to do anybody credit."

"I confess," said Mr. Ash with a little cough, as though he wished to apologise for his confession, "I confess that I am surprised."

Mrs. Clive, blissfully unconscious that it could enter into anybody's philosophy to think of attacking her, remained sublimely statuesque.

"I say, without the slightest hesitation, that the person who is responsible for the education of that young woman has committed a crime against society."

Mr. Ely turned on Mrs. Clive with something that was very like a snarl. The old lady started. For the first time it seemed to occur to her that the words were spoken with intention. Mr. Ash, who was still engaged upon his chin, did not appear to be able to go quite as far as his friend.

"That-eh-is perhaps a strongish thing to say-hardly crime-but it really does appear that blame rests somewhere-it really does."

But Mr. Ely was not to be gainsayed. No toning down of truths for him!

"I said, and I say again, that the person who is responsible for the bringing up of that young woman has committed a crime against society." He turned so that he looked Mrs. Clive straight in the face. "A girl is entrusted to her aunt to receive her education. If that aunt betrays her trust-miseducates the child! – then I challenge contradiction when I say that that aunt pulls away one of the props, the absence of whose support threatens to undermine the very fabric of society."

"Eh-there is-eh-of course one must admit that there is a certain substratum of truth in that."

"Is it possible" – smoothing the front of her dress with her two hands, it was evident that Mrs. Clive was awaking to the nature of the outrageous attack of which she was being made the victim-"is it possible that these remarks are directed against me?"

Thrusting his thumbs into his waistcoat armholes, Mr. Ely began to stride about the room.

"Oh, it's easy to throw about oneself the cloak of womanhood, and to claim that the privilege of sex exonerates from blame, but I should like to know, if this is to be the fate of the coming generation of young women, what will our future mothers be?"

Imitating Mr. Ely, Mr. Ash also thrust his thumbs into his waistcoat armholes.

"Just so! What will our future mothers be?"

"Our future mothers! Am I not a mother, then?"

But neither of the gentlemen paid the slightest attention to Mrs. Clive.

"It is not a question of our mothers only, it is a question of our fathers, too!"

"That is so. There can be no doubt that the maternal and paternal questions are closely intertwined."

"I never thought" – Mrs. Clive produced her handkerchief-"I never thought that I should have lived to see this day!"

Mrs. Clive began to cry; but neither of the gentlemen seemed at all abashed. They had a duty to perform, and evidently meant to carry it through.

"'Our acts our judges are, for good or ill.Fatal shadows-which march by us still!'"

It was such an unusual thing for Mr. Ely to essay quotation that it was not surprising if the poet's words got slightly mangled in production. "The thing you do is like the seed you sow, it grows and grows until it assumes gigantic proportions, and blights your life and the lives of all whose paths you cross. You cannot get away from that!"

"You certainly cannot get away from that! That is well put-very well put, indeed!"

But Mrs. Clive was not to be trampled upon in silence. She turned on Mr. Ely with undaunted mien.

"May I ask, Mr. Ely, for an explanation of the language which you use?"

"Your niece, ma'am, is sufficient explanation. You say that what she is she owes to you. I presume her singular notions of morality among the rest!"

"Ahem!" Mr. Ash contented himself with clearing his throat.

"Mr. Ely, I am as much surprised at my niece's behaviour as you can possibly be."

"Surprised, madam! Why are you surprised? You say that you have handed on to her the precepts which you yourself imbibed at your mother's knee!"

"Sir!" Mrs. Clive turned towards Mr. Ash with her grandest air. "Mr. Ash, may I ask you to protect me from this gentleman?"

"I certainly understood you to say," stammered Mr. Ash, when he was thus appealed to, "that you had handed on to her the precepts which you had imbibed at your mother's knees?"

"Mr. Ash!" Up went the handkerchief to the injured lady's eyes.

"It's easy enough to cry," sneered Mr. Ely. "I believe that some people keep a stock of tears on hand. At the same time" – he turned on Mr. Ash with a sudden ferocity that was really startling-"don't suppose for a moment that I acquit you entirely from blame."

Mrs. Clive's tears were checked in the very act of starting to her eyes. Mr. Ash, about to move from the position in front of the fireplace which he had occupied until then, was apparently momentarily turned into stone. This sudden change of front seemed to take him very much aback.

"Oh, I know! I know!" continued Mr. Ely. "You may stare at me as much as you please, but I'm not to be frightened by your looks! I've not forgotten how you tried to rob me once before."

"This," exclaimed Mr. Ash, looking up, as though he apostrophised the skies, "is the most outrageous attack of which I ever heard!"

He had apparently forgotten that Mrs. Clive had just been the victim of a very similar attack in which he and his present antagonist had joined their forces.

"Bah!" cried Mr. Ely; "stuff and nonsense! Whenever there is any dirty work about I always see your hand. Who robbed me of a thousand pounds!"

"This," exclaimed Mr. Ash, extending his hands as though he were addressing an unseen audience, "is the man who robbed me of five hundred and thirty-three pounds thirteen and fourpence!"

Mr. Ely flung himself upon a seat and nursed his knee.

"If I had done what I ought to have done, I should have locked you up."

"Locked me up!" The words were gasped rather than spoken.

Mr. Ash turned to Mrs. Clive with the apparent intention of explaining to her the situation-it perhaps required explanation. "Madam, you see this man" ("this man" was the recent friend of his bosom, Frederic Ely), "he is so incapable of concealing his true character that even an inexperienced girl has found him out, and because she-very properly-refuses to have anything to do with him at any price, he turns on me! Madam," Mr. Ash became warmer as he spoke, "you are not acquainted with the intricacies of the Stock Exchange, but I think you will understand me when I tell you that I once sold him a quantity of a certain stock, and when there was a fall, so that there was a profit in my favour of five hundred and thirty-three pounds thirteen shillings, he had the audacity to say that I had bought, not sold, and he actually declared that the transaction had referred to double amount of the stock than was in reality the case, and he even preferred a claim against me for over a thousand pounds!"

"How shocking!" said Mrs. Clive. Though it may be suspected that she would have found it difficult to explain what was shocking if she had been required to do so on the spot.

Mr. Ely rose from his seat. He seemed more at his ease than he had been since he entered the room, as though falling out with Mr. Ash had relieved his mind.

"Ah," he observed, "that's the sort of man he is; if he robbed his mother he would swear that she'd robbed him. But perhaps he's not to blame. According to the new philosophy that sort of thing is in the blood."

Mr. Ash turned pale.

"Mrs. Clive, may I ask you to withdraw?"

"That's another of his dodges; he doesn't want you to know what sort of man he is. But I don't mind telling you, not the least. He's not the sort of man I should care to choose to be trustee to my girl. He is the sort of man who regards a trusteeship as the royal road to wealth."

Mr. Ash began to grow angry, which was not surprising on the whole.

"Mrs. Clive, that man is the greatest thief in town."

"That's why he wanted me to marry his ward-that we might go halves, you know."

This remark so evidently enraged Mr. Ash that Mrs. Clive actually feared that hostilities would be commenced upon her drawing-room floor. She endeavoured to interpose.

"Gentlemen, I must beg of you to consider where you are!"

"You mustn't ask from him impossibilities; he can't realise that he's in a respectable house, you know."

Mr. Ash almost foamed at the lips.

"If you will not withdraw, Mrs. Clive, then in your presence I shall be compelled to thrash this man within an inch of his life."

"Gentlemen! I do beg of you! – I pray!"

"There's not the slightest occasion to be alarmed. Threatened men proverbially live long. Honest men know from experience that they can listen unmoved to the tall language used by the more doubtful members of society."

Mr. Ely ostentatiously jingled the money in his trouser pockets, and smiled a beatific smile.

"You hound!"

Mrs. Clive was in time to seize Mr. Ash's uplifted arm.

"Mr. Ash!" she cried.

"Hallo, Ash! What's the matter, Ash? Want to exhibit a little valour on the cheap?"

"You cur!"

Mr. Ash caught Mr. Ely by the collar, and Mr. Ely sprang at Mr. Ash's throat. The lady screamed. A very pretty fight was spoiled by the sudden appearance of other actors on the scene.

CHAPTER XVII

MR. ELY THROWS THE LADY OVER

"Guardian! Mr. Ely! What is the matter now?"

Miss Truscott and Mr. Summers were standing at the window. They had approached unperceived in the excitement of the little argument which had been taking place within. The lady's face was lighted with her sweetest, happiest smile. The gentleman, too, seemed at his ease; he had the lady's hand in his. The perfect agreement which evidently existed between the lovers was in striking contrast to the perfect disagreement which was conspicuous within. Outside the room, perfect peace; inside the room, a raging storm.

On the appearance of this united pair the combatants had the grace to let each other go. All signs of actual violence vanished into space. The old lady ceased to scream. Mr. Ash hastened to the window; his plumes were still a little ruffled.

"Lily, you have been better advised than I. I commend your choice. Rather than see you the wife of such a man as Frederic Ely, I would cut your throat."

Miss Truscott looked surprised. Mr. Ash's language was strong in an unexpected place. Mr. Summers laughed outright. Mr. Ely picked up his hat, which had been up to now reposing on a chair, and settled it upon his head.

"Mr. Summers, I can't congratulate you-I really can't. Not that I have anything to say against the lady-at least not much. But the man Ash-her guardian-is the most notorious character in town. Rather than become in any way connected with such a person as that I would march single to the silent grave. Good day, Mrs. Clive. I hope that Pompey continues in the enjoyment of good health."

Nodding slightly to Mrs. Clive, Mr. Ely swaggered from the room. Miss Truscott's look of surprise when he had gone was comical.

"Guardian, what does this mean?"

Mr. Ash still seemed a little uncomfortable, but he tried to pass it off as lightly as he could.

"Nothing, my dear, nothing. Let me beg of you to dismiss the incident wholly from your mind. Mr. Ely has revealed an unexpected phase in his character, but it was a phase which was better discovered early than late. I assure you that your engagement with my old friend Summers gives me complete content. May your days be happy and your love live long."

The lady looked her lover in the face.

"It will live long, I think."

"I am sure it will," said he.

They clasped each other by the hand; the old lady and the stockbroker turned away. There is a candour about true love which worldly minds find at times embarrassing.

Shortly afterwards the following announcement appeared in a daily paper-

"Ely-Rosenbaum. – On the 6th instant, at St. Philip's, South Kensington, Frederic Ely, Esq., of the Stock Exchange, to Ruth, sixth and youngest daughter of Myer Rosenbaum, Esq., of Queen's Gate, S.W., and the Stock Exchange. No cards."

Miss Truscott showed this to Mr. Summers. They laughed together when they read it. Not many weeks elapsed before their names appeared in the same column of the Times.