Chapter XVII--A Business Transaction

by Bram Stoker

　　When Stephen had sent off her letter to the bank she went out for astroll; she knew it would be no use trying to get rest before dinner.That ordeal, too, had to be gone through. She found herselfunconsciously going in the direction of the grove; but when shebecame aware of it a great revulsion overcame her, and she shuddered.Slowly she took her way across the hard stretch of finely-kept grasswhich lay on the side of the house away from the wood. The greensward lay like a sea, dotted with huge trees, singly, or in clumps asislands. In its far-stretching stateliness there was somethingsoothing. She came back to the sound of the dressing-gong with abetter strength to resist the trial before her. Well she knew heraunt would have something to say on the subject of her interferencein Leonard Everard's affairs.Her fears were justified, for when they had come into the drawing-room after dinner Miss Rowly began:'Stephen dear, is it not unwise of you to interfere in Mr. Everard'saffairs?''Why unwise, Auntie?''Well, my dear, the world is censorious. And when a young lady, ofyour position and your wealth, takes a part in a young man's affairstongues are apt to wag. And also, dear, debts, young men's debts,are hardly the subjects for a girl's investigation. Remember, thatwe ladies live very different lives from men; from some men, I shouldsay, for your dear father was the best of men, and I should thinkthat in all his life there was nothing which he would have wishedconcealed. But, my dear, young men are less restrained in their waysthan we are, than we have to be for our own safety and protection.'The poor lady was greatly perturbed at having to speak in such a way.Stephen saw her distress; coming over to her, she sat down and tookher hand. Stephen had a very tender side to her nature, and sheloved very truly the dear old lady who had taken her mother's placeand had shown her all a mother's love. Now, in her loneliness andwoe and fear, she clung to her in spirit. She would have liked tohave clung to her physically; to have laid her head on her bosom, andhave cried her heart out. The time for tears had not come. Hourlyshe felt more and more the weight that a shameful secret is to carry.She knew, however, that she could set her aunt's mind at rest on thepresent subject; so she said:'I think you are right, Auntie dear. It would have been better if Ihad asked you first; but I saw that Leonard was in distress, andwormed the cause of it from him. When I heard that it was only debtI offered to help him. He is an old friend, you know, Auntie. Wewere children together; and as I have much more money than I can everwant or spend, I thought I might help him. I am afraid I have letmyself in for a bigger thing than I intended; but as I have promisedI must go on with it. I dare say, Auntie, that you are afraid that Imay end by getting in love with him, and marrying him. Don't you,dear?' This was said with a hug and a kiss which gave the old ladydelight. Her instinct told her what was coming. She nodded her headin acquiescence. Stephen went on gravely:'Put any such fear out of your mind. I shall never marry him. I cannever love him.' She was going to say 'could never love him,' whenshe remembered.'Are you sure, my dear? The heart is not always under one's owncontrol.''Quite sure, Auntie. I know Leonard Everard; and though I havealways liked him, I do not respect him. Why, the very fact of hiscoming to me for money would make me reconsider any view I hadformed, had nothing else ever done so. You may take it, Auntie dear,that in the way you mean Leonard is nothing to me; can never beanything to me!' Here a sudden inspiration took her. In its light aserious difficulty passed, and the doing of a thing which had a fearof its own became easy. With a conviction in her tone, which initself aided her immediate purpose, she said:'I shall prove it to you. That is, if you will not mind doingsomething which will save me an embarrassment.''You know I will do anything, my dearest, which an old woman can dofor a young one!' Stephen squeezed the mittened hand which she heldas she went on:'As I said, I have promised to lend him some money. The firstinstalment is to be given him to-morrow; he is to call for it in theafternoon. Will you give it to him for me?''Gladly, my dear,' said the old lady, much relieved. Stephencontinued:'One other thing, Auntie, I want you to do for me: not to think ofthe amount, or to say a word to me about it. It is a large sum, andI dare say it will frighten you a little. But I have made up my mindto it. I am learning a great deal out of this, Auntie dear; and I amquite willing to pay for my knowledge. After all, money is theeasiest and cheapest way of paying for knowledge! Don't you agreewith me?'Miss Rowly gulped down her disappointment. She felt that she oughtnot to say too much, now that Stephen had set aside her graver fears.She consoled herself with the thought that even a large amount ofmoney would cause no inconvenience to so wealthy a woman as Stephen.Beyond this, as she would have the handing over of the money toLeonard, she would know the amount. If advisable, she couldremonstrate. She could if necessary consult, in confidence, withHarold. Her relief from her greater fear, and her gladness at thisnew proof of her niece's confidence, were manifested in the extraaffection with which she bade her good-night.Stephen did not dare to breathe freely till she was quite alone; andas she lay quiet in her bed in the dark she thought before sleepcame.Her first feeling was one of thankfulness that immediate danger wasswerving from her. Things were so shaping themselves that she neednot have any fear concerning Leonard. For his own sake he would haveto keep silent. If he intended to blackmail her she would have theprotection of her aunt's knowledge of the loan, and of herparticipation in it. The only weapon that remained to him was herletter; and that she would get from him before furnishing the moneyfor the payment of his other debts.These things out of the way, her thoughts turned to the matter of thegreater dread; that of which all along she had feared to think for amoment: Harold!Harold! and her treatment of him!The first reception of the idea was positive anguish. From themoment he had left her till now there had been no time when aconsideration of the matter was possible. Time pressed, orcircumstances had interfered, or her own personal condition hadforbidden. Now, when she was alone, the whole awful truth burst onher like an avalanche. Stephen felt the issue of her thinking beforethe thinking itself was accomplished; and it was with a smotheredgroan that she, in the darkness, held up her arms with fingers linkedin desperate concentration of appeal.Oh, if she could only take back one hour of her life, well she knewwhat that hour would be! Even that shameful time with Leonard on thehill-top seemed innocuous beside the degrading remembrance of herconduct to the noble friend of her whole life.Sadly she turned over in her bed, and with shut eyes put her burningface on the pillow, to hide, as it were, from herself her abjectdepth of shame.Leonard lounged through the next morning with what patience he could.At four o'clock he was at the door of Normanstand in his dogcart.This time he had a groom with him and a suitcase packed for a night'suse, as he was to go on to London after his interview with Stephen.He had lost sight altogether of the matter of Stephen's letter, orelse he would have been more nervous.He was taken into the blue drawing-room, where shortly Miss Rowlyjoined him. He had not expected this. His mental uneasinessmanifested itself in his manner, and his fidgeting was not unobservedby the astute old lady. He was disconcerted; 'overwhelmed' wouldbetter have described his feelings when she said:'Miss Norman is sorry she can't see you to-day as she is making avisit; but she has given me a message for you, or rather a commissionto discharge. Perhaps you had better sit down at the table; thereare writing materials there, and I shall want a receipt of somesort.''Stephen did not say anything about a receipt!' The other smiledsweetly as she said in a calm way:'But unfortunately Miss Norman is not here; and so I have to do thebest I can. I really must have some proof that I have fulfilled mytrust. You see, Mr. Everard, though it is what lawyers call a"friendly" transaction, it is more or less a business act; and I mustprotect myself.'Leonard saw that he must comply, for time pressed. He sat down atthe table. Taking up a pen and drawing a sheet of paper towards him,he said with what command of his voice he could:'What am I to write?' The old lady took from her basket a foldedsheet of notepaper, and, putting on her reading-glasses, said as shesmoothed it out:'I think it would be well to say something like this--"I, LeonardEverard, of Brindehow, in the Parish of Normanstand, in the County ofNorcester, hereby acknowledge the receipt from Miss Laetitia Rowly ofnine hundred pounds sterling lent to me in accordance with myrequest, the same being to clear me of a pressing debt due by me.'When he had finished writing the receipt Miss Rowly looked it over,and handing it back to him, said:'Now sign; and date!' He did so with suppressed anger.She folded the document carefully and put it in her pocket. Thentaking from the little pouch which she wore at her belt a roll ofnotes, she counted out on the table nine notes of one hundred poundseach. As she put down the last she said:'Miss Norman asked me to say that a hundred pounds is added to thesum you specified to her, as doubtless the usurers would, since youare actually behind the time promised for repayment, requiresomething extra as a solatium or to avoid legal proceedings alreadyundertaken. In fact that they would "put more salt on your tail."The expression, I regret to say, is not mine.'Leonard folded up the notes, put them into his pocket-book, andwalked away. He did not feel like adding verbal thanks to thedocument already signed. As he got near the door the thought struckhim; turning back he said:'May I ask if Stephen said anything about getting the document?''I beg your pardon,' she said icily, 'did you speak of any one?''Miss Norman, I meant!' Miss Rowly's answer to this came so smartlythat it left an added sting. Her arrow was fledged with two feathersso that it must shoot true: her distrust of him and his ownimpotence.'Oh no! Miss Norman knows nothing of this. She simply asked me togive you the money. This is my own doing entirely. You see, I mustexercise my judgment on my dear niece's behalf. Of course it may notbe necessary to show her the receipt; but if it should ever beadvisable it is always there.'He looked at her with anger, not unmixed with admiration, as, bowingrather lower than necessary, he went out of the door, saying sottovoce, between his teeth:'When my turn comes out you go! Neck and crop! Quick! Normanstandisn't big enough to hold us both!'