Toilers of Babylon by Benjamin Farjeon

Author:Benjamin Farjeon
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781634215978
Publisher: Duke Classics

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Mr. Manners, the great contractor, sitting in his study at a table spread with legal documents and papers relating to his vast transactions, was informed by a man-servant that a stranger wished to see him.

"Who is he?" inquired Mr. Manners.

"I don't know, sir."

"Did he not give you his name?"

"I asked him for it, sir, and he said you did not know him, but that he came on very particular business, and must see you."

"Must!"

"That is what he said, sir."

Mr. Manners considered a moment. He had finished the writing upon which he had been engaged, and had a few minutes' leisure.

"What kind of man?"

"Neither one kind nor another, sir."

"What do you mean?"

"That he might be a gentleman, sir, and mightn't. It's hard to say."

"It generally is nowadays. Show him in."

The servant retired, and, ushering in Mr. Loveday, left the room.

"Well, sir?" said Mr. Manners. The contractor did not speak uncivilly, for the appearance of Mr. Loveday, who was fairly well attired, was in his favor; he might be a smaller contractor, or an inventor, or anything that was respectable.

"I have ventured to visit you, sir," said Mr. Loveday, without first seeking an introduction, "upon a matter of importance."

"My servant said upon particular business."

"He was scarcely correct, sir. I can hardly call my errand business, but it is no less important than the most important business."

"It is usual to send in a card, or a name."

"My name you will probably recognize, and I did not give it to the servant from fear that you might have refused to see me."

"This sounds like an intrusion. What may be your name?"

"Loveday, sir."

Mr. Manners did not start or betray agitation, but he looked keenly at his visitor. He was a man of method, and had on all occasions complete control over his passions. He recognized the name, the moment it was uttered, as that of the girl for whom his son had deserted him. Therefore, the name of an enemy; undoubtedly the name of an intruder.

"It is a name with which you suppose me to be familiar?"

"Yes, sir."

"I ask the question simply because there are coincidences, and I make it a rule to avoid mistakes. If you come from my son—"

"I do not, sir."

"But you are in association with him? You know him?"

"Only indirectly, sir. I have never seen your son."

"I refuse to take part in mysteries. You are related to the young woman for whom my son threw over his duty to me."

"I am the young lady's uncle."

"And your visit is in furtherance of an appeal from her or on her behalf?"

"On her behalf, but not from her. I did not inform her that I was coming."

"The information is of no interest to me. The appeal you speak of is of the usual kind. It is superfluous to ask if you are rich."

"I am not, sir."

"Poor?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very poor?"

"Very poor."

His frankness, his bearing, his aspect compelled a certain amount of respect, and it did not soften Mr. Manners to be made to feel this.

"Had you any hand in this marriage?" demanded Mr.

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