Lord Stranleigh Abroad

“Well, they kept on with their conservation scheme after a time, and both on this property and on Miss Maturin’s, dams have been erected on all the streams that empty into the river; streams on either side that take their rise from outlying parts of the estate. They have built roads through the forest, and have caused to be formed innumerable lakes, all connected by a serviceable highway that constitutes one of the most interesting automobile drives there is in all the United States; a drive smooth as a floor, running for miles through private property, and therefore overshadowed by no speed limit.”

“By Jove, Ned,” exclaimed Stranleigh, “you must take me over that course.”

“I’ll do better than that, my boy. Constance Maturin is one of the best automobilists I know, and she will be your guide, for these dams are of the most modern construction, each with some little kink of its own that no one understands better than she does. There is a caretaker living in a picturesque little cottage at the outlet of every lake, and in each cottage hangs a telephone, so that no matter how far you penetrate into the wilderness, you are in touch with civilisation. From this house I could call up any one of these water-wardens, or send out a general alarm, bringing every man of the corps to the ’phone, and the instructions given from here would be heard simultaneously by the whole force. I think the organisation is admirable, but it runs into a lot of money.”

“‘But what good came of it at last, Quoth little Peterkin,’”

asked Stranleigh. “Do these artificial lakes run any dynamos, or turn any spindles? Now tell me all about the war, and what they dammed each streamlet for.”

“Ah, you have me there! The ladies have not taken me into their counsel: I’ve got troubles enough of my own. One phase of the subject especially gratifies me: their activities have in no instance despoiled the landscape; rather the contrary. These lakes, wooded to their brims, are altogether delightful, and well stocked with fish. A great many of them overflow, causing admirable little cascades, which, although not quite so impressive as Niagara, are most refreshing on a hot day, while the cadence of falling waters serves as an acoustic background to the songs of the birds; a musical accompaniment, as one might call it.”

“Bravo, Ned; I call that quite poetical, coming as it does from a successful man of business. I find myself eager for that automobile ride through this forest lakeland. When do you say Miss Maturin will arrive?”

“I don’t know. I expect my sister will call me up by telephone. Sis regards this house as her own. She is fond of leaving the giddy whirl of society, and settling down here in the solitude of the woods. I clear out or I stay in obedience to her commands. You spoke of a house-party a while ago. There is to be no house-party, but merely my sister and her husband, with Miss Maturin as their guest. If you would rather not meet any strangers, I suggest that we plunge further into the wilderness. At the most remote lake on this property, about seven miles away, quite a commodious keeper’s lodge has been built, with room for, say, half a dozen men who are not too slavishly addicted to the resources of civilisation. Yet life there is not altogether pioneering. We could take an automobile with us, and the telephone would keep us in touch with the outside world. Fond of fishing?”

“Very.”

“Then that’s all right. I can offer you plenty of trout, either in pond or stream, while in a large natural lake, only a short distance away, is excellent black bass. I think you’ll enjoy yourself up there.”

Stranleigh laughed.

“You quite overlook the fact that I am not going. Unless ejected by force, I stay here to meet your sister and Miss Maturin.”

For a moment Trenton seemed taken aback. He had lost the drift of things in his enthusiasm over the lakes.

“Oh, yes; I remember,” he said at last. “You objected to meet anyone who might wish you to invest good money in wild-cat schemes. Well, you’re quite safe as far as those two ladies are concerned, as I think I assured you.”

Ned was interrupted, and seemed somewhat startled by a sound of murmured conversation ending in a subdued peal of musical laughter.

“Why, there’s Sis now,” he said, “I can tell her laugh anywhere.”

As he rose from his chair, the door opened, and there entered a most comely young woman in automobile garb, noticeably younger than Trenton, but bearing an unmistakable likeness to him.

“Hello, Ned!” she cried. “I thought I’d find you here,” then seeing his visitor, who had risen, she paused.

“Lord Stranleigh,” said Trenton. “My sister, Mrs. Vanderveldt.”

“I am very glad to meet you, Lord Stranleigh,” she said, advancing from the door and shaking hands with him.

“Why didn’t you telephone?” asked her brother.

His sister laughed merrily.

“I came down like a wolf on the fold, didn’t I? Why didn’t I telephone? Strategy, my dear boy, strategy. This is a surprise attack, and I’d no wish that the garrison, forewarned, should escape. I am sure, Lord Stranleigh, that he has been descanting on the distraction of the woods and the camp, or perhaps the metropolitan dissipation of Philadelphia, depending on whether the yearning for sport, or his business in town was uppermost in his mind.”

“My dear Sis,” cried Ned with indignation, “that is a libellous statement. I never so much as mentioned Philadelphia, did I, Stranleigh? You can corroborate what I say.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Stranleigh, lightly. “Your attempt to drag me into your family differences at this point of the game is futile. I’m going to lie low, and say nothing, as Brer Rabbit did, until I learn which of you two is the real ruler of this house. I shall then boldly announce myself on the side of the leader. My position here is much too comfortable to be jeopardised by an injudicious partisanship.”

“As for who’s boss,” growled Ned, “I cravenly admit at once that Sis here is monarch of all she surveys.”

“In that case,” rejoined Stranleigh, heaving a deep sigh of apparent relief, “I’m on the side of the angels. Mrs. Vanderveldt, he did mention Philadelphia and his office there, speaking much about business interests, coal-mines, and what not, during which recital I nearly went to sleep, for I’m no business man. He also descanted on the lakes and the waterfalls and the fishing, and on trout and black bass, and would doubtless have gone on to whales and sea-serpents had you not come in at the opportune moment. Please accept me as your devoted champion, Mrs. Vanderveldt.”

“I do, I do, with appreciation and gratitude,” cried the lady merrily. “I’ve long wished to meet you, Lord Stranleigh, for I heard such glowing accounts of you from my brother here, with most fascinating descriptions of your estates in England, and the happy hours he spent upon them while he was your guest in the old country. I hope we may be able to make some slight return for your kindness to this frowning man. He is always on nettles when I am talking; so different from my husband in that respect.”

“Poor man, he never has a chance to get a word in edgewise,” growled Ned. “My soul is my own, I’m happy to say.”

“Ah, yes,” laughed the lady, “pro tem. But although I am saying so much for myself, I speak with equal authority for my friend Constance Maturin.”

“Did you bring her with you, or is she coming later?” asked Trenton with some anxiety.

“She is here, dear brother, but I could not induce her to enter this room with me. Doubtless she wishes to meet you alone. She is a dear girl, Lord Stranleigh, and it will be my greatest joy to welcome her as a sister-in-law.”

A warm flush was added to the frown on her brother’s brow, but he made no remark.

“Gracious me!” cried the lady, laughing again “have I once more put my foot in it? Why Ned, what a fine confidential friend you are. If I were a young man, and so sweet a girl had promised to marry me, I should proclaim the fact from the house-tops.”

“You wouldn’t need to,” groaned Ned, “if you had a sister.”

“Never mind him,” said Stranleigh, “you have betrayed no secret, Mrs. Vanderveldt. His own confused utterances when referring to the young lady, rendered any verbal confession unnecessary. I suspected how the land lay at a very early stage of our conversation.”

“Well, I think he may congratulate himself that you do not enter the lists against him. You possess some tact, which poor Ned has never acquired, and now I’ll make him sit up by informing him that Connie Maturin took a special trip over to England recently, in order to meet you.”

“To meet me?” cried Stranleigh in astonishment.

“Yes, indeed, and an amazed girl she was to learn that you had sailed for America. She came right back by the next boat. She has a great plan in her mind which requires heavy financing. My brother here isn’t rich enough, and I, of course, am much poorer than he is, so she thought if she could interest you, as the leading capitalist of England – ”

“Good heavens, girl,” interrupted Ned, the perspiration standing out on his brow, “do show some consideration for what you are saying! Why, you rattle on without a thought to your words. Lord Stranleigh just made it a proviso that – . Oh, hang it all, Sis; you’ve put your foot in it this time, sure enough.”

The lady turned on him now with no laughter on her lips, or merriment in her tone.

“Why, Ned, you’re actually scolding me. I promised Connie Maturin to help her, and my way of accomplishing anything is to go directly for it.”

“Oh, heaven help me,” murmured Ned, “the law courts have already taught me that.”

“Mrs. Vanderveldt,” said the Earl of Stranleigh, very quietly, “please turn to your champion, and ignore this wretched man, whose unnecessary reticence is finding him out.”

The only person to be embarrassed by this tangle of concealments and revelations was Constance Maturin, who had indulged in neither the one nor the other. The Earl of Stranleigh found it difficult to become acquainted with her. She seemed always on her guard, and never even approached the subject which he had been given to understand chiefly occupied her thoughts.

On the day set for their automobile ride, Miss Maturin appeared at the wheel of the very latest thing in runabouts; a six-cylindered machine of extraordinary power, that ran as silently and smoothly as an American watch, and all merely for the purpose of carrying two persons. Stranleigh ran his eye over the graceful proportions of the new car with an expert’s keen appreciation, walking round it slowly and critically, quite forgetting the girl who regarded him with an expression of amusement. Looking up at last, he saw a smile playing about her pretty lips.

“I beg your pardon,” he said.

“I’m not sure that I shall grant it,” she replied, laughing. “To be ignored in this callous fashion for even the latest project of engineering, is not in the least flattering.”

“Not ignored, Miss Maturin,” said Stranleigh, “for I was thinking of you, although I may have appeared absorbed in the machine.”

“Thinking of me!” she cried. “You surely can’t expect me to believe that! The gaze of a man fascinated by a piece of machinery is quite different from that of a man fascinated by a woman. I know, because I have seen both.”

“I am sure you have seen the latter, Miss Maturin. But what I have just been regarding is an omen.”

“Really? How mysterious! I thought you saw only an automobile.”

“No, I was looking through the automobile, and beyond, if I may put it that way. I am quite familiar with the plan of this car, although this is the first specimen that I have examined. The car is yours by purchase, I suppose, but it is mine by manufacture. Your money bought it, but mine made it, in conjunction with the genius of a young engineer in whom I became interested. Perhaps you begin to see the omen. Some time ago I was fortunate enough to be of assistance to a young man, and the result has been an unqualified success. To-day perhaps I may be permitted to aid a young woman with a success that will be equally gratifying.”

Stranleigh gazed steadily into the clear, honest eyes of the girl, who returned his look with a half-amused smile. Now she seemed suddenly covered with confusion, and flushing slightly, turned her attention to the forest that surrounded them. Presently she said —

“Do you men worship only the god of success? You have used the word three or four times.”

“Most men wish to be successful, I suppose, but we all worship a goddess, too.”

“I’m sorry,” said Miss Maturin, “that Mrs. Vanderveldt mentioned my search for a capitalist. I have abandoned the quest. I am now merely your guide to the lakes. Please take a seat in this automobile of yours, Lord Stranleigh, and I will be your conductor.”

The young man stepped in beside her, and a few moments later they were gliding, rather than running over a perfect road, under the trees, in a machine as noiseless as the forest. The Earl of Stranleigh had seen many beautiful regions of this world, but never any landscape just like this. Its artificiality and its lack of artificiality interested him. Nothing could be more businesslike than the construction of the stout dams, and nothing more gently rural than the limpid lakes, with the grand old forest trees marshalled round their margins like a veteran army that had marched down to drink, only to be stricken motionless at the water’s edge.

It seemed that the silence of the motor-car had enchanted into silence its occupants. The girl devoted her whole attention to the machine and its management. Stranleigh sat dumb, and gave himself up to the full enjoyment of the Vallombrosic tour.

For more than half an hour no word had been spoken; finally the competent chauffeur brought the auto to a standstill at a view-point near the head of the valley, which offered a prospect of the brawling main stream.

“We have now reached the last of the lakes in this direction,” she said quietly. “I think your automobile is admirable, Lord Stranleigh.”

The young man indulged in a deep sigh of satisfaction.

“As a landscape gardener on a marvellous scale, you are without a competitor, Miss Maturin.”

The girl laughed very sweetly.

“That is a compliment to nature rather than to me. I have merely let the wilderness alone, so far as road-making and dam-building would allow me.”

“In that very moderation lies genius – the leaving alone. Will you forgive the inquisitiveness of a mere man whom you suspected at our outset of success-worship, if he asks what practical object you have in view?”

“Oh, I should have thought that was self-evident to an observant person like yourself,” she said airily. “These lakes conserve the water, storing it in time of flood for use in time of scarcity. By means of sluices we obtain partial control of the main stream.”

“You flatter me by saying I am observant. I fear that I am rather the reverse, except where my interest is aroused, as is the case this morning. Is conservation your sole object, then?”

“Is not that enough?”

“I suppose it is. I know little of civil engineering, absorbing craft though it is. I have seen its marvels along your own lines in America, Egypt, India, and elsewhere. As we progressed I could not help noticing that the dams built to restrain these lakes seemed unnecessarily strong.”

A slight shadow of annoyance flitted across the expressive countenance of Constance Maturin, but was gone before he saw it.

“You are shrewder than you admit, Lord Stranleigh, but you forget what I said about freshets. The lakes are placid enough now, but you should see them after a cloud-burst back in the mountains.”

“Nevertheless, the dams look bulky enough to hold back the Nile.”

“Appearances are often deceitful. They are simply strong enough for the work they have to do. American engineering practice does not go in for useless encumbrance. Each dam serves two purposes. It holds back the water and it contains a power-house. In some of these power-houses turbines and dynamoes are already placed.”

“Ah, now I understand. You must perceive that I am a very stupid individual.”

“You are a very persistent person,” said the young woman decisively.

Stranleigh laughed.

“Allow me to take advantage of that reputation by asking you what you intend to do with the electricity when you have produced it?”

“We have no plans.”

“Oh, I say!”

“What do you say?”

“That was merely an Anglicised expression of astonishment.”

“Don’t you believe me?”

“No.”

They were sitting together on the automobile seat, deep in the shade of the foliage above them, but when he caught sight of the indignant face which she turned towards him, it almost appeared as if the sun shone upon it. She seemed about to speak, thought better of it, and reached forward to the little lever that controlled the self-starting apparatus. She found his hand there before she could carry out her intention.

“I am returning, Lord Stranleigh,” she said icily.

“Not yet.”

She leaned back in the seat.

“Mr. Trenton told me that you were the most polite man he had ever met. I have seldom found him so mistaken in an impression.”

“Was it a polite man you set out to find in your recent trip to Europe?”

As the girl made no reply, Stranleigh went on —

“My politeness is something like the dams we have been considering. It contains more than appears on the surface. There is concealed power within it. You may meet myriads of men well qualified to teach me courtesy, but when this veneer of social observance is broken, you come to pretty much the same material underneath. I seldom permit myself the luxury of an escape from the conventions, but on rare occasions I break through. For that I ask your pardon. Impressed by your sincerity, I forgot for the moment everything but your own need in the present crisis.”

“What crisis?” she asked indignantly.

“The financial crisis caused by your spending every available resource on this so-called conservation policy. To all intents and purposes you are now a bankrupt. Mrs. Vanderveldt has contributed all she can, and both you and she are afraid to tell her brother the true state of the case. You fear you will get little sympathy from him, for he is absorbed in coal-mines and railways, and both of you have already felt his annoyance at the law-suit in which you have involved him. Hence your desperate need of a capitalist. A really polite man would be a more pleasant companion than I, but he is not worth that, Miss Maturin!”

Stranleigh removed his hand from the lever long enough to snap fingers and thumb, but he instantly replaced it when he saw her determination to start the machine.

“The man of the moment, Miss Maturin, is a large and reckless capitalist. I am that capitalist.”

He released his hold of the lever, and sat upright. The sternness of his face relaxed.

“Now, Miss Maturin, turn on the power; take me where you like; dump me into any of those lakes you choose; the water is crystal clear, and I’m a good swimmer,” and with this Stranleigh indulged in a hearty laugh, his own genial self once more.

“You are laughing at me,” she said resentfully.

“Indeed I am not. Another contradiction, you see! I am laughing at myself. There’s nothing I loathe so much as strenuousness, and here I have fallen into the vice. It is the influence of that brawling river below us, I think. But the river becomes still enough, and useful enough, when it reaches the great lake at Powerville, which is big enough to swallow all these little ponds.”

The girl made no motion towards the lever, but sat very still, lost in thought. When she spoke, her voice was exceedingly quiet.

“You complimented Nature a while ago, intending, as I suppose, to compliment me, but I think after all the greater compliment is your straight talk, which I admire, although I received it so petulantly. I shall make no apology, beyond saying that my mind is very much perturbed. Your surmise is absolutely correct. It isn’t that I’ve spent the whole of my fortune and my friend’s fortune in this conservation scheme. It is because I have built a model city on the heights above Powerville. I was promised assistance from the banks, which is now withheld, largely, I suspect, through the opposition of John L. Boscombe, a reputed millionaire. To all intents and purposes Boscombe and I are the owners of Powerville and the mills there, but although this place was founded and built up by my father, I am a minority stock-holder, and powerless. Boscombe exercises control. Any suggestions or protests of mine are ignored, for Boscombe, like my father, has little faith – no faith at all, in fact – in the business capacity of a woman.

“I have tried, as I hinted, to enlist the co-operation of other capitalists, but experience has taught me that any appeal is futile that does not impinge directly upon cupidity. If there is the least hint of philanthropy in the project, every man of money fights shy of it.”

“I am an exception,” said Stranleigh, eagerly. “Philanthropy used to be a strong point with me, though I confess I was never very successful in its exercise. What humanitarian scheme is in your mind, Miss Maturin?”

Again she sat silent for some moments, indecision and doubt on her fair brow. Presently she said, as if pulling herself together —

“I will not tell you, Lord Stranleigh. You yourself have just admitted disbelief, and my plan is so fantastic that I dare not submit it to criticism.”

“I suppose your new city is in opposition to the old town down in the valley? You alone are going to compete with Boscombe and yourself.”

“That is one way of putting it.”

“Very well, I am with you. Blow Boscombe! say I. I’ve no head for business, so I sha’n’t need to take any advice. I shall do exactly what you tell me. What is the first move?”

“The first move is to set your brokers in New York at work, and buy a block of Powerville stock.”

“I see; so that you and I together have control, instead of Boscombe?”

“Yes.”

“That shall be done as quick as telegraph can give instructions. What next?”

“There will be required a large sum of money to liquidate the claims upon me incurred through the building of the city.”

“Very good. That money shall be at your disposal within two or three days.”

“As for security, I regret – ”

“Don’t mention it. My security is my great faith in Ned Trenton, also in yourself. Say no more about it.”

“You are very kind, Lord Stranleigh, but there is one thing I must say. This may involve you in a law-suit so serious that the litigation of which Ned complains will appear a mere amicable arrangement by comparison.”

“That’s all right and doesn’t disturb me in the least. I love a legal contest, because I have nothing to do but place it in the hands of competent lawyers. No personal activity is required of me, and I am an indolent man.”

The second part of the programme was accomplished even sooner than Stranleigh had promised, but the first part hung fire. The brokers in New York could not acquire any Powerville stock, as was shown by their application to Miss Maturin herself, neither had their efforts been executed with that secrecy which Stranleigh had enjoined. He realised this when John L. Boscombe called upon him. He went directly to the point.

“I am happy to meet you, Lord Stranleigh, and if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to say that you are more greatly in need of advice at this moment than any man in America.”

“You are perfectly right, Mr. Boscombe. I am always in need of good advice, and I appreciate it.”

“An application was made to me from New York for a block of stock. That stock is not for sale, but I dallied with the brokers, made investigations, and traced the inquiry to you.”

“Very clever of you, Mr. Boscombe.”

“I learn that you propose to finance Miss Constance Maturin, who is a junior partner in my business.”

“I should not think of contradicting so shrewd a man as yourself, Mr. Boscombe. What do you advise in the premises?”

“I advise you to get out, and quick, too.”

“If I don’t, what are you going to do to me?”

“Oh, I shall do nothing. She will do all that is necessary. That woman is stark mad, Lord Stranleigh. Her own father recognised it when he bereft her of all power in the great business he founded. If she had her way, she’d ruin the company inside a year with her hare-brained schemes; love of the dear people, and that sort of guff.”