Marguerite Verne; Or, Scenes from Canadian Life Part 34
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"'Sunflower', a nice name to be callin' our place. I wish that Mrs.
Verne heard you Moses, it would be the last time you'd poke your nose in there, I can tell ye Mister Mosey."
"Well, now see here, Melindy. I see town is makin' you too toney, what's the use of cuttin' a fellar up so when he makes a little mistake?"
"Well, say Sunnybank, and I won't be findin' any more fault."
"Well, Sunnybank! Aint that right Melindy?"
"Leave out the _well_, and all will be well," said Melindy, spitefully.
"Melindy Jane Thrasher, you are a gettin' too cute for anything.
That was the cutest sayin' I've heerd for a long time. If you stay in town much longer you will be able to talk with any of them lawyers that's around as thick as thieves."
"Moses be keerful what you say, for some of the same fellars might have you hauled up for definition of character, and some of them can afford to do it too, for I believe there are honest ones among 'em.
Indeed, I know of one."
"And I bet I know the same chap," said Moses, jumping at the conclusion, with an accompanying exhibition of elasticity, not unworthy of the bygone arena, and then added, "and we both of us seed him this 'ere evenin'. Aint that so, eh, Melindy?"
"There, don't be silly, Moses," said the half-indignant Melindy, pouting her ripe red lips, and trying to look very prim.
When Melindy wished to administer reproof to her betrothed she always addressed him as Moses, a circ.u.mstance which had a very chilling effect upon the offender.
"Well, I vow if it aint--speak of the old fellar and he's sure to appear," cried Moses. And instantly they were recognized by the stalwart young lawyer who was on his way homeward.
"He didn't stay long. Perhaps the missus ain't in very good humor to-night," surmised Melindy.
"Perhap's he's too busy hisself. Like as not he's off on some law sc.r.a.pe now. That's just it, for Court's a settin' all this week.
Well I hope Mr. Lawson will get a good share of the pickins, for he's as honest as the sun, and when a fellar goes to him for advice he gets it in good English law, and no runnin' roundabout way that would puzzle a chap till his hair would turn gray."
Doubtless Mr. Spriggins would have expatiated on his friend's good qualities for a much longer time, but Melindy was not inclined to have him waste so many eulogistic speeches at her expense.
"How time goes! Well, it seems no time since we left, and here we are back agin," said Melindy, glancing up at the grand facade of "Sunnybank," which looked as pretentious as its neighbors on the same imposing terrace.
Mr. Spriggins was annoyed to think that it was only nine o'clock, and he must part with Melindy.
"You know what we used to learn in the little yellar book at home,"
said the latter.
"Yes, that's all very fine when a fellar hasn't anything better to do, but when a feller has sich good company, he don't think of being healthy, wealthy and wise, eh, Melindy."
"We'll not quarrel about it, anyhow," said Melindy, evidently well pleased at being reckoned such good company, then instantly exclaimed, "What time are you agoin' to start in the mornin'; perhaps you can run down, and I may have somethin' to send the folks."
A step upon the gravelled walk warned the lovers to retreat, and ere long Mr. Spriggins was wending his steps up Sydney street, muttering imprecations upon the unknown person who had so unceremoniously broken up their rendezvous.
Meanwhile Phillip Lawson was enjoying the quiet of his cosy back parlor. He was seated in his huge arm-chair enjoying the _Evening Globe_ and a choice cigar.
Lottie Lawson had once remarked that brother Phillip might go without his tea, but he could not sleep without seeing the _Globe_. And the little maid was right, for nothing is more inviting for the hurried man of business, the politician, the professional or the student than the perusal of the evening paper.
Look into the counting-rooms, the offices, the libraries--aye, even the brilliantly-illuminated parlors--and you will in each find your answer.
But we must turn to our legal friend. As Mr. Spriggins surmised, it was court week, and a very busy one for Mr. Lawson. Brighter prospects were now in store. Prosperity had dawned upon the untiring student, and he looked forward with encouraging hopes.
"Thank G.o.d I am here yet," was the young man's exclamation, as he threw aside the paper and began to ruminate upon his prospects in general.
Strange to say he did not harbor ill-will to Hubert Tracy. He pitied him with a tender pity, and mourned for the wreck of a life that had such a good beginning. But Mr. Lawson had a feeling of enmity towards his contemporaries in the far west. He could ill repress the angry feelings that arose when the scheme presented itself in all its horrid reality.
"What ground for bringing the gang to the scratch and making a startling expose of our legal brethren; yes, nice brethren too."
No wonder that Mr. Lawson felt ashamed of his fraternity. If the shades of c.o.ke and Blackstone could only arise--what a reckoning would be made. What a scene--aye, one that would need a Milton to describe.
Thoughts akin to these were pa.s.sing through the young lawyer's mind when he suddenly recalled the cause. The heavy brows are contracted and a scowl appears. "The wicked flourish for a season and so may you, my happy friends, but your happiness is not of the enduring kind." Another scowl. "But if he succeeds I am miserable," muttered Phillip Lawson, his countenance betraying deep agitation. "But I will not suffer her to become a sacrifice. Heaven forbid."
There was determination in the tone and in the gesture which accompanied it.
There was indeed to be a struggle between right and wrong, and a bitter struggle, too, but an All-Wise Providence rules over all, and disposes of events in an inscrutable order, and in the way He foreordains for His own glory.
It is necessary to explain how matters stood between Hubert Tracy and the Winnipeg solicitor.
The latter had entered heartily into the affair and was looking forward to the big bonanza that he would gain. But some weeks pa.s.sed and hearing nothing further Mr. Sharpley resolved to test the matter. Receiving no answer to the first letter he despatched a second and was surprised to receive it re-addressed to himself. What did it mean? Had Mr. Lawson removed to another field or had Hubert Tracy played false?
The solicitor then wrote an acquaintance making some modest inquiries concerning Mr. Lawson's whereabouts and was further surprised to find that he was still in St. John, also that he was prospering in the profession and would one day rank as one of the leading pract.i.tioners there.
Mr. Sharpley then directed his interrogations across the sea and much chagrined charged Mr. Tracy with duplicity. But it was the latter who felt the most non-plussed. He cursed Phillip Lawson from the bottom of his heart and hoped that he might live to crush him in the dust.
"Fool that I was to listen to his palaver!" cried he, "when I could have contrived some means to silence him most effectually. It is just what I deserve. He will dog my steps to the bitter end if I cannot accomplish my work very soon."
It was while Hubert Tracy was being thus humiliated that he received a summons from Mrs. Montague Arnold and hailed it as an omen of success.
The interview was lengthy and boded no good to Marguerite.
"Depend upon me, Hubert," cried the heartless young matron as she graciously extended the tips of her taper fingers and smiled her most enchanting smile which the young gallant more than graciously acknowledged as he sprang into the cab awaiting him at the end of the court-yard.
A few moments later he was at the club, and surrounded by a host of the most abandoned profligates he joined in the ribaldry and obscene jests with a zeal that betrayed the utter depravity of his habits, and also shewed that he had taken a headlong plunge into the vortex and must soon become a hopeless wreck. And yet a short time ago, so fair to look upon, Hubert Tracy had been indeed prepossessing in appearance. His neat, well built figure, graceful but manly carriage, agreeable address and fine manners gave him a significant tone and made him much sought after in society.
There was even a pleasing expression in the young man's face that was really attractive. His chestnut locks of silken hair cl.u.s.tering in luxuriant ringlets were indeed the envy of the many less favored youth, while the hazel dreamy eyes, soft and expressive as a woman's, seemed to suggest that they had once been the pride of an indulgent mother and kind friends.
"Zounds, Tracy my fellow, you're going all to sticks! What the devil is up? Why, you look as if you had been trailed through seven cities--got the blues,--eh?"
"Worse than that, Turpin. I'm in a fair way for the Old Bailey."
"The deuce you are!" exclaimed the latter, who owing to several sharp feats performed upon some members of the club, was dubbed Turpin.
Mr. Turpin was a lucky kind of mortal who had a propensity for living on the funds of his more fortunate friends and always kept an eye to Mr. Tracy.
The latter was lavish in expenditure and thought it a streak of luck to have an individual like Turpin to cater to his caprice and a.s.sist in making his every day life free from remorse or anything approaching to it.
"'Jordan is a hard road to travel,' eh d.i.c.k?" said Hubert Tracy as he raised the c.o.c.ktail to view and stood gazing upon it, then swallowing the contents, as if anxious to get through the job, exclaimed, "Heavens d.i.c.k, I wish that were the last drink on this side of Jordan," and after a desperate effort to appear at ease the young man left his rollicking set and sought his apartments in Regent Square.
Marguerite Verne; Or, Scenes from Canadian Life Part 34
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Marguerite Verne; Or, Scenes from Canadian Life Part 34 summary
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