Chapter XXI--The Duty of Courtesy

by Bram Stoker

　　Leonard was getting tired of waiting when he received his summons toNormanstand. But despite his impatience he was ill pleased with thesummons, which came in the shape of a polite note from Miss Rowlyasking him to come that afternoon at tea-time. He had expected tohear from Stephen.'Damn that old woman! You'd think she was working the whole show!'However, he turned up at a little before five o'clock, spruce anddapper and well dressed and groomed as usual. He was shown, asbefore, into the blue drawing-room. Miss Rowly, who sat there, roseas he entered, and coming across the room, greeted him, as hethought, effusively. He actually winced when she called him 'my dearboy' before the butler.She ordered tea to be served at once, and when it had been broughtshe said to the butler:'Tell Mannerly to bring me a large thick envelope which is on thetable in my room. It is marked L.E. on the outside.' Presently anelderly maid handed her the envelope and withdrew. When tea was overshe opened the envelope, and taking from it a number of folios,looked over them carefully; holding them in her lap, she saidquietly:'You will find writing materials on the table. I am all ready now tohand you over the receipts.' His eyes glistened. This was good newsat all events; the debts were paid. In a rapid flash of thought hecame to the conclusion that if the debts were actually paid he neednot be civil to the old lady. He felt that he could have been rudeto her if he had actual possession of the receipts. As it was,however, he could not yet afford to have any unpleasantness. Therewas still to come that lowering interview with his father; and hecould not look towards it satisfactorily until he had the assuranceof the actual documents that he was safe. Miss Rowly was, in her ownway, reading his mind in his face. Her lorgnon seemed to follow hisevery expression like a searchlight. He remembered his formerinterview with her, and how he had been bested in it; so he made uphis mind to acquiesce in time. He went over to the table and satdown. Taking a pen he turned to Miss Rowly and said:'What shall I write?' She answered calmly:'Date it, and then say, "Received from Miss Laetitia Rowly thereceipts for the following amounts from the various firms hereunderenumerated."' She then proceeded to read them, he writing andrepeating as he wrote. Then she added:'"The same being the total amount of my debts which she has kindlypaid for me."' He paused here; she asked.'Why don't you go on?''I thought it was Stephen--Miss Norman,' he corrected, catching sightof her lorgnon, 'who was paying them.''Good Lord, man,' she answered, 'what does it matter who has paidthem, so long as they are paid?''But I didn't ask you to pay them,' he went on obstinately. Therewas a pause, and then the old lady, with a distinctly sarcasticsmile, said:'It seems to me, young man, that you are rather particular as to howthings are done for you. If you had begun to be just a little bit asparticular in making the debts as you are in the way of having thempaid, there would be a little less trouble and expense all round.However, the debts have been paid, and we can't unpay them. But ofcourse you can repay me the money if you like. It amounts in all tofour thousand three hundred and seventeen pounds, twelve shillingsand sixpence, and I have paid every penny of it out of my own pocket.If you can't pay it yourself, perhaps your father would like to doso.'The last shot told; he went on writing: '"Kindly paid for me,"' shecontinued in the same even voice:'"In remembrance of my mother, of whom she was an acquaintance." Nowsign it!' He did so and handed it to her. She read it overcarefully, folded it, and put it in her pocket. She then stood. Herose also; and as he moved to the door--he had not offered to shakehands with her--he said:'I should like to see, Miss Norman.''I am afraid you will have to wait.''Why?''She is over at Heply Regis. She went there for Lady Heply's ball,and will remain for a few days. Good afternoon!' The tone in whichthe last two words were spoken seemed in his ears like the crow ofthe victor after a cock-fight.As he was going out of the room a thought struck her. She felt hedeserved some punishment for his personal rudeness to her. Afterall, she had paid half her fortune for him, though not on hisaccount; and not only had he given no thanks, but had not evenoffered the usual courtesy of saying good-bye. She had intended tohave been silent on the subject, and to have allowed him to discoverit later. Now she said, as if it was an after-thought:'By the way, I did not pay those items you put down as "debts ofhonour"; you remember you gave the actual names and addresses.''Why not?' the question came from him involuntarily. The persecutinglorgnon rose again:'Because they were all bogus! Addresses, names, debts, honour! Goodafternoon!'He went out flaming; free from debt, money debts; all but one. Andsome other debts--not financial--whose magnitude was exemplified inthe grinding of his teeth.After breakfast next morning he said to his father:'By the way, you said you wished to speak to me, sir.' There wassomething in the tone of his voice which called up antagonism.'Then you have paid your debts?''All!''Good! Now there is something which it is necessary I should callyour attention to. Do you remember the day on which I handed youthat pleasing epistle from Messrs. Cavendish and Cecil?''Certainly, sir.''Didn't you send a telegram to them?''I did.''You wrote it yourself?''Certainly.''I had a courteous letter from the money-lenders, thanking me for myexertions in securing the settlement of their claim, and saying thatin accordance with the request in my telegram they had held overproceedings until the day named. I did not quite remember havingsent any telegram to them, or any letter either. So, being at aloss, I went to our excellent postmaster and requested that he wouldverify the sending of a telegram to London from me. He courteouslylooked up the file; which was ready for transference to the G.P.O.,and showed me the form. It was in your handwriting.' He paused solong that Leonard presently said:'Well!''It was signed Jasper Everard. Jasper Everard! my name; and yet itwas sent by my son, who was christened, if I remember rightly,Leonard!' Then he went on, only in a cold acrid manner which madehis son feel as though a February wind was blowing on his back:'I think there need not have been much trouble in learning to avoidconfusing our names. They are really dissimilar. Have you anyexplanation to offer of the--the error, let us call it?' A brightthought struck Leonard.'Why, sir,' he said, 'I put it in your name as they had written toyou. I thought it only courteous.' The elder man winced; he had notexpected the excuse. We went on speaking in the same calm way, buthis tone was more acrid than before:'Good! of course! It was only courteous of you! Quite so! But Ithink it will be well in the future to let me look after my owncourtesy; as regards my signature at any rate. You see, my dear boy,a signature is queer sort of thing, and judges and juries are apt totake a poor view of courtesy as over against the conventionsregarding a man, writing his own name. What I want to tell you isthis, that on seeing that signature I made a new will. You see, myestate is not entailed, and therefore I think it only right to seethat in such a final matter justice is done all round. I thereforemade a certain provision of which I am sure you will approve.Indeed, since I am assured of the payment of your debts, I feeljustified in my action. I may say, inter alia, that I congratulateyou on either the extent of your resources or the excellence of yourfriendships, or both. I confess that the amounts brought to mynotice were rather large; more especially in proportion to the valueof the estate which you are some day to inherit. For you are ofcourse to inherit some day, my dear boy. You are my only son, and itwould be hardly--hardly courteous of me not to leave it to you. ButI have put a clause in my will to the effect that the trustee's areto pay all debts of your accruing which can be proved against you,before handing over to you either the estate itself or the remainderafter its sale and the settlement of all claims. That's all. Nowrun away, my boy; I have some important work to do.'The day after her return from Heply Regis, Stephen was walking in thewood when she thought she heard a slight rustling of leaves some waybehind her. She looked round, expecting to see some one; but theleafy path was quite clear. Her suspicion was confirmed; some onewas secretly following her. A short process of exclusions pointed tothe personality of the some one. Tramps and poachers were unknown inNormanstand, and there was no one else whom she could think of whohad any motive in following her in such a way; it must be LeonardEverard. She turned and walked rapidly in the opposite direction.As this would bring her to the house Leonard had to declare hispresence at once or else lose the opportunity of a private interviewwhich he sought. When she saw him she said at once and without anysalutation:'What are you doing there; why are you following me?''I wanted to see you alone. I could not get near you on account ofthat infernal old woman.' Stephen's face grew hard.'On account of whom?' she asked with dangerous politeness.'Miss Rowly; your aunt.''Don't you think, Mr. Everard,' she said icily, 'that it is at leastan unpardonable rudeness to speak that way, and to me, of the woman Ilove best in all the world?''Sorry!' he said in the offhand way of younger days, 'I apologise.Fact is, I was angry that she wouldn't let me see you.''Not let you see me!' she said as if amazed. 'What do mean?''Why, I haven't been able to see you alone ever since I went to meetyou on Caester Hill.''But why should you see me alone?' she asked as if still inamazement. 'Surely you can say anything you have to say before myaunt.' With an unwisdom for which an instant later he blamed himselfhe blurted out:'Why, old girl, you yourself did not think her presence necessarywhen you asked me to meet you on the hill.''When was that?' She saw that he was angry and wanted to test him;to try how far he would venture. He was getting dangerous; she mustknow the measure of what she had to fear.He fell into the trap at once. His debts being paid, fear wasremoved, and all the hectoring side of the man was aroused. Hisantagonist was a woman; and he had already had in his life so manyunpleasant scenes with women that this was no new experience. Thiswoman had, by her own indiscretion, put a whip into his hand; and, ifnecessary to secure his own way, by God! he meant to use it! Theselast days had made her a more desirable possession in his eyes. Thevastness of her estate had taken hold on him, and his father'sremorseless intention with regard to his will would either keep himwith very limited funds, or leave him eventually a pauper if heforestalled his inheritance. The desire of her wealth had growndaily, and it was now the main force in bringing him here to-day.And to this was now added the personal desire which her presenceevoked. Stephen, at all times beautiful, had never looked morelovely. In the days since she had met him on the hilltop, a timethat to her seemed so long ago, she had grown to be a woman, andthere is some subtle inconceivable charm in completed womanhood. Thereaction from her terrible fear and depression had come, and herstrong brilliant youth was manifesting itself. Her step was springyand her eyes were bright; and the glow of fine health, accentuated bythe militant humour of the present moment, seemed to light up herbeautiful skin. In herself she was desirable, very desirable;Leonard felt his pulses quicken and his blood leap as he looked ather. Even his prejudice against her red hair had changed tosomething like hungry admiration. Leonard felt for the first momentsince he had known her that she was a woman; and that, with relationto her, he was a man.And at the moment all the man in him asserted itself. It was withhalf love, as he saw it, and half self-assertion that he answered herquestion:'The day you asked me to marry you! Oh! what a fool I was not toleap at such a chance! I should have taken you in my arms then andkissed you till I showed you how much I loved you. But that will allcome yet; the kissing is still to come! Oh! Stephen, don't you seethat I love you? Won't you tell me that you love me still?Darling!' He almost sprang at her, his arms extended to clasp her.'Stop!' Her voice rang like a trumpet. She did not mean to submitto physical violence, and in the present state of her feeling, anembrace from him would be a desecration. He was now odious to her;she positively loathed him.Before her uplifted hand and those flashing eyes, he stopped as onestricken into stone. In that instant she knew she was safe; and witha woman's quickness of apprehension and resolve, made up her mindwhat course to pursue. In a calm voice she said quietly:'Mr. Everard, you have followed me in secret, and without mypermission. I cannot talk here with you, alone. I absolutely refuseto do so; now or at any other time. If you have anything especial tosay to me you will find me at home at noon to-morrow. Remember, I donot ask you to come. I simply yield to the pressure of yourimportunity. And remember also that I do not authorise you in anyway to resume this conversation. In fact, I forbid it. If you cometo my house you must control yourself to my wish!'Then with a stately bow, whose imperious distance inflamed him morethan ever, and without once looking back she took her way home, allagitated inwardly and with fast beating heart.