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полная версияA Woman Intervenes

Barr Robert
A Woman Intervenes

CHAPTER XVII

John Kenyon walked along Cheapside feeling very much downhearted over his rebuff with Longworth. The pretended forgetfulness of the young man, of course, he took at its proper value. He, nevertheless, felt very sorry the interview had been so futile, and, instead of going back to Wentworth and telling him his experience, he thought it best to walk off a little of his disappointment first. He was somewhat startled when a man accosted him; and, glancing up, he saw standing there a tall footman, arrayed in a drab coat that came down to his heels.

'I beg your pardon, sir,' said the footman, 'but Miss Longworth would like to speak to you.'

'Miss Longworth!' cried Kenyon, in surprise; 'where is she?'

'She is here in her carriage, sir.'

The carriage had drawn up beside the pavement, and John Kenyon looked round in confusion to see that Miss Longworth was regarding him and the footman with an amused air. An elderly woman sat in the carriage opposite her, while a grave and dignified coachman, attired somewhat similarly to the footman, kept his place like a seated statue in front. John Kenyon took off his hat as he approached the young woman, whom he had not seen since the last day on the steamer.

'How are you, Mr. Kenyon?' said Edith Longworth brightly, holding out her hand to the young man by her carriage. 'Will you not step in? I want to talk with you, and I am afraid the police will not allow us to block such a crowded thoroughfare as Cheapside.'

As she said this, the nimble footman threw open the door of the carriage, while John, not knowing what to say, stepped inside and took his seat.

'Holborn,' said the young woman to the coachman; then, turning to Kenyon, she continued: 'Will you not tell me where you are going, so that I may know where to set you down?'

'To tell the truth,' said John, 'I do not think I was going anywhere. I am afraid I have not yet got over the delight of being back in London again, so I sometimes walk along the streets in rather a purposeless manner.'

'Well, you did not seem delighted when I first caught sight of you. I thought you looked very dejected, and that gave me courage enough to ask you to come and talk with me. I said to myself, "There is something wrong with the mica-mine," and, with a woman's I curiosity, I wanted to know all about it. Now tell me.'

'There is really very little to tell. We have hardly begun yet. Wentworth is to-day looking over the figures I gave him, and I have been making a beginning by seeing some people who I thought might be interested in the mine.'

'And were they?'

'No; they were not.'

'Then, that was the reason you were looking so distressed.'

'I suppose it was.'

'Well, now, Mr. Kenyon, if you get discouraged after an interview with the first person you think will be interested in the mine, what will you do when a dozen or more people refuse to have anything to do with it?'

'I'm sure I do not know. I am afraid I am not the right person to float a mine on the London market. I am really a student, you see, and flatter myself I am a man of science. I know what I am about when I am in a mine, miles away from civilization; but when I get among men, I feel somehow at a loss. I do not understand them. When a man tells me one thing to-day, and to-morrow calmly forgets all about it, I confess it—well, confuses me.'

'Then the man you have seen to-day has forgotten what he told you yesterday. Is that the case?'

'Yes; that is partly the case.'

'But, Mr. Kenyon, the success of your project is not going to depend upon what one man says, or two, or three, is it?'

'No; I don't suppose it is.'

'Then, if I were you, I would not feel discouraged because one man has forgotten. I wish I were acquainted with your one man, and I would make him ashamed of himself, I think.'

Kenyon flushed as she said this, but made no reply.

The coachman looked round as he came to Holborn, and Miss Longworth nodded to him; so he went on without stopping into Oxford Street.

'Now, I take a great interest in your mine, Mr. Kenyon, and hope to see you succeed with it. I wish I could help you, or, rather, I wish you would be frank with me, and tell me how I can help you. I know a good deal about City men and their ways, and I think I may be able to give you some good advice—at least, if you would have the condescension to consult me.'

Kenyon smiled.

'You are making game of me now, Miss Longworth. Of course, as you said on board ship, it is but a very small matter.'

'I never said any such thing. When did I say that?'

'You said that fifty thousand pounds was a small matter.'

'Did I? Well, I am like your man who has forgotten; I have forgotten that. I remember saying something about its being too small an amount for my father to deal with. Was not that what I said?'

'Yes, I think that was it. It conveyed the idea to my mind that you thought fifty thousand pounds a trifling sum indeed.'

Edith Longworth laughed.

'What a terrible memory you have! I do not wonder at your City man forgetting. Are you sure what you told him did not happen longer ago than yesterday?'

'Yes, it happened some time before.'

'Ah, I thought so; I am afraid it is your own terrible memory, and not his forgetfulness, that is to blame.'

'Oh, I am not blaming him at all. A man has every right to change his mind, if he wants to do so.'

'I thought only a woman had that privilege.'

'No; for my part I freely accord it to everybody, only sometimes it is a little depressing.'

'I can imagine that; in fact, I think no one could be a more undesirable acquaintance than a man who forgets to-day what he promised yesterday, especially if anything particular depends upon it. Now, why cannot you come to our house some evening and have a talk about the mine with my cousin or my father? My father could give you much valuable advice with reference to it, and I am anxious that my cousin should help to carry this project on to success. It is better to talk with them there than at their office, because they are both so busy during the day that I am afraid they might not be able to give the time necessary to its I discussion.'

John Kenyon shook his head.

'I am afraid,' he said, 'that would do no good. I do not think your cousin cares to have anything to do with the mine.'

'How can you say that? Did he not discuss the matter with you on board ship?'

'Yes; we had some conversation about it there, but I imagine that—I really do not think he would care to go any farther with it.'

'Ah, I see,' said Edith Longworth. 'My cousin is the man who "forgot to-day what he said yesterday."'

'What am I to say, Miss Longworth? I do not want to say "Yes," and I cannot truthfully say "No."'

'You need say nothing. I know exactly how it has been. So he does not want to have anything to do with it. What reason did he give?'

'You will not say anything to him about the matter? I should be very sorry if he thought that I talked to anyone else of my conference with him.'

'Oh, certainly not; I will say nothing to him at all.'

'He gave no particular reason; he simply seemed to have changed his mind. But I must say this: he did not appear to be very enthusiastic when I discussed it with him on board ship.'

'Well, you see, Mr. Kenyon, it rests with me now to maintain the honour of the Longworth family. Do you want to make all the profit there is to be made in the mica-mine—that is, yourself and your friend Mr. Wentworth?'

'How do you mean—"all the profit"?'

'Well, I mean—would you share the profit with anyone?'

'Certainly, if that person could help us to form the company.'

'Very well; it was on that basis you were going to take in my cousin as a partner, was it not?'

'Yes.'

'Then I should like to share in the profits of the mine if he does not take an interest in it. If you will let me pay the preliminary expenses of forming this company, and if you will then give me a share of what you make, I shall be glad to furnish the money you need at the outset.'

John Kenyon looked at Miss Longworth with a smile.

'You are very ingenious, Miss Longworth, but I can see, in spite of your way of putting it, that what you propose is merely a form of charity. Suppose we did not succeed in forming our company, how could we repay you the money?'

'You would not need to repay the money. I would take that risk. It is a sort of speculation. If you form the company, then I shall expect a very large reward for furnishing the funds. It is purely selfishness on my part. I believe I have a head for business. Women in this country do not get such chances of developing their business talents as they seem to have in America. In that country there are women who have made fortunes for themselves. I believe in your mine, and I am convinced you will succeed in forming your company. If you or Mr. Wentworth were capitalists, of course there would be no need of my assistance. If I were alone, I could not form a company. You and Mr. Wentworth can do what I cannot do. You can appear before the public and attend to all preliminaries. On the other hand, I believe I can do what neither of you can do; that is, I can supply a certain amount of money from time to time to pay the expenses of forming the company—because a company is not formed in London for nothing, I assure you. Perhaps you think you have simply to go and see a sufficient number of people and get your company formed. I fancy you will find it not so easy as all that. Besides this business interest I have in it, I have a very friendly interest in Mr. Wentworth.'

As she said this, she bent over towards John Kenyon, and spoke in a lower tone of voice:

 

'Please do not tell him so, because I think that he is a young man who has possibilities of being conceited.'

'I shall say nothing about it,' said Kenyon dolefully.

'Please do not. By the way, I wish you would give me Mr. Wentworth's address, so that I may communicate with him if a good idea occurs to me, or if I find out something of value in forming our company.'

Kenyon took out a card, wrote the address of Wentworth upon it, and handed it to her.

'Thank you,' she said 'You see, I deeply sympathized with Mr. Wentworth for what he had to pass through on the steamer.'

'He is very grateful for all you did for him on that occasion,' replied Kenyon.

'I am glad of that. People, as a general thing, are not grateful for what their friends do for them. I am glad, therefore, that Mr. Wentworth is an exception. Well, suppose you talk with him about what I have said, before you make up your own mind. I shall be quite content with whatever share of the profits you allow me.'

'Ah, that is not business, Miss Longworth.'

'No, it is not; but I am dealing with you—that is, with Mr. Wentworth—and I am sure both of you will do what is right. Perhaps it would be better not to tell him who is to furnish the money. Just say you have met a friend to-day who offers, for a reasonable share of the profits, to supply all the money necessary for the preliminary expenses. You will consult with him about it, will you not?'

'Yes, if it is your wish.'

'Certainly it is my wish; and I also wish you to do it so diplomatically that you will conceal my name from him more successfully than you concealed my cousin's name from me this afternoon.'

'I am afraid I am very awkward,' said John, blushing.

'No; you are very honest, that's all. You are not accomplished in the art of telling what is not true. Now, this is where we live; will you come in?'

'Thank you, no; I'm afraid not,' said John. 'I must really be going now.'

'Let the coachman take you to your station.'

'No, no, it is not worth the trouble; it is only a step from here.'

'It is no trouble. Which is your station—South Kensington?'

'Yes.'

'Very well. Drive to South Kensington Station, Parker,' she said to the coachman; and then, running up the steps, she waved her hand in good-bye, as the carriage turned.

And so John Kenyon, feeling abashed at his own poverty, was driven in this gorgeous equipage to the Underground Railway station, where he took the train for the City.

As he stepped from the carriage at South Kensington, young Mr. Longworth came out of the station on his way home, and was simply dumfounded to see Kenyon in the Longworths' carriage.

John passed him without noticing who he was, and just as the coachman was going to start again, Longworth said to him:

'Parker, have you been picking up fares in the street?'

'Oh no, sir,' replied the respectable Parker; 'the young gentleman as just left us came from the City with Miss Longworth.'

'Did he, indeed? Where did you pick him up, Parker?'

'We picked him up in Cheapside, sir.'

'Ah, indeed;' and with that, muttering some imprecations on the cheek of Kenyon, he stepped into the carriage and drove home.

CHAPTER XVIII

George Wentworth was a very much better man than John Kenyon to undertake the commercial task they hoped to accomplish. Wentworth had mixed with men, and was not afraid of them. Although he had suffered keenly from the little episode on the steamer, and although at that trying time he appeared to but poor advantage so far as an exhibition of courage was concerned, the reason was largely because the blow had been dealt him by a woman, and not by a man. If one of Wentworth's fellow-men so far forgot himself as to make an insulting or cutting remark to him, Wentworth merely shrugged his shoulders and thought no more about it. On the other hand, notwithstanding his somewhat cold and calm exterior, John Kenyon was as sensitive as a child, and a rebuff such as he received from the Longworths was enough to depress him for a week. He had been a student all his life, and had not yet learnt the valuable lesson of knowing how to look at men's actions with an eye to proportion. Wentworth said to himself that nobody's opinion amounted to very much, but Kenyon knew too little of his fellows to have arrived at this comforting conclusion.

George Wentworth closed his door when he was alone, drew the mass of papers, which Kenyon had left, towards him on his desk, and proceeded systematically to find a flaw in them if possible. He said to himself: 'I must attack this thing without enthusiasm, and treat Kenyon as if he were a thief. I must find an error in the reasoning or something shaky about the facts.' He perused the papers earnestly, making pencil-marks on the margin here and there. At first he said to himself: 'It is quite evident that the mining of the mica will pay for the working of the mine. We can look upon the demand for mica as being in a certain sense settled. It has paid for the working of the mine so far, also a small dividend, and there is no reason to think it should not go on doing so. Now, the uncertain quantity is this other stuff, and the uncertain thing about this uncertain quantity is the demand for it in the markets of the world, also how much the carriage of it is going to cost.' Wentworth had a theory that all things were possible if you only knew a man who knew the man. There is always the man in everything—the man who is the authority on iron; the man who is the authority on mines; the man who is the authority on the currency, and the man who knows all about the printing trade. If you want any information on any particular subject, it was not necessary to know the man, but it was very essential to know a man who can put his finger on the man. Get a note of introduction from a man who knows the man, and there you are!

Wentworth touched his bell, and a boy answered his summons.

'Ask Mr. Close to step in here for a moment, will you, please?'

The boy disappeared, and shortly after an oldish man with a very deferential look, who was perpetually engaged in smoothing one hand over the other, came in, and, in a timid manner, closed the door softly behind him.

'Close,' said Wentworth, 'who is it that knows everything about the china trade?'

'About the china trade, sir?'

'Yes, about the china trade.'

'Wholesale or retail, sir?'

'I want to get at somebody who knows all about the manufacture of china.'

'Ah, the manufacture, sir,' said Close, in a tone that indicated this was another matter altogether; 'the manufacture, sir; yes, sir, I really do not know who could tell everything about the manufacture of china, sir, but I know of a man who could put you on the right track.'

'Very well; that is quite as good.'

'I would see Mr. Melville, if I were you, sir—Mr. Melville, of the great Scranton China Company.'

'And what is his address?'

'His address is–' And here the old man stooped over and wrote it on a card. 'That will find him, sir. If you can drop a note to Mr. Melville, sir, and say you want to learn who knows all about the production of china, he will be able to tell you just the man, sir. He is in the wholesale china trade himself, sir.'

'Would he be in at this hour, do you think?'

'Oh yes, sir, he is sure to be in his office now.'

'Very well, then; I think I will just run over and see him.'

'Very good, sir; anything more, sir?'

'Nothing more, Close, thank you.'

When the valuable Close had departed as softly and apologetically as he had entered, Wentworth picked up one of the specimens of spar which Kenyon had taken from the mine, and put it into his pocket. In two minutes more he was in a cab, dashing through the crowded streets towards Melville's office. By the side of the door of the china company's warehouse, inside the hall, were two parallel rows of names—one under the general heading of 'Out,' the other under the heading of 'In.' It appeared that Mr. Smith was out and Mr. Jones was in, but, what was more to the purpose, the name of Richard Melville happened to be in the column of those who were inside. After a few moments' delay, Wentworth was ushered into the office of this gentleman.

'Mr. Melville,' he said, 'I have been recommended to come to you for information regarding the china trade. The information I want, you will, perhaps, not be able to give me, but I believe you can tell me to whom I should apply for it.' Saying this, he took out of his pocket the specimen of mineral which he had brought with him. 'What I want to know is, how much of this material you use each year in the manufacture of china; what price you pay for it; and I should like to get at an estimate, if possible, of the quantity used in England every year.'

Melville picked up the specimen and turned it round and round, looking at it attentively.

'Well,' he said at last, 'I could tell you anything you wished about the wholesale china trade, but about the manufacture of it I am not so well informed. Where did you get this?'

'That,' said Wentworth, 'is from a mine in which I am interested.'

'Ah, where is the mine situated, may I ask?'

'It is in America,' said Wentworth vaguely.

'I see. Have you considered the question of carriage in proposing to put it on the English market? That, as you know, is an important question. The cost of taking a heavy article a long distance is a great factor in the question of its commercial value.'

'I recognise that,' said Wentworth; 'and it is to enable me to form some estimate of the value of this material that I ask for particulars of its price here.'

'I understand, but I am not able to answer your questions. If you have time to wait and see Mr. Brand, our manager of the works, who is also one of the owners, he could easily tell you everything about this mineral—whether used at all or not. He comes up to London once every fortnight, and to-day is his day. I am expecting him here at any time. You might wait, if you liked, and see him.'

'I do not think that will be necessary. I will write, if you will allow me, just what I want to know, and in two or three minutes he could jot down the information I require. Then I will call again to-morrow, if you don't mind.'

'Not in the least. I will submit the matter to him. You can leave me this piece of mineral, I suppose?'

'Certainly,' said Wentworth, writing on a sheet of paper the questions: 'First, What quantity of this mineral is used in your works in a year? second, What price per ton do you pay for it? third, Will you give me, if possible, an estimate of how much of this is used in England?'

'There,' he said, 'if you will give him this slip of paper, and show him the specimen of mineral, I shall be very much obliged.'

'By the way,' said Melville, 'is this mine in operation?'

'Yes, it is.'

'Is there anyone else beside yourself interested in it in this country?'

'Yes,' said Wentworth, with some hesitation; 'John Kenyon, a mining expert, is interested in it, and Mr. Longworth—young Mr. Longworth of the City.'

'Any relation to John Longworth?'

'His nephew.'

'Ah, well, anything that Longworth has an interest in is reasonably sure of being successful.'

'I am perhaps going too far in saying he has an interest in the mine, but in coming from America he seemed desirous of going in with us. My partner. John Kenyon, of whom I spoke just now, is with him at the present moment, I believe.'

'Very well. I will submit this specimen to Mr. Brand as you desire, and will let you know to-morrow what he says.'

With that Wentworth took his leave, and in going out through the hall he met the manager of the china works, although he didn't know at the time who he was. He was a very shrewd-faced individual, who walked with a brisk business step which showed he believed that time was money.

'Well, Melville,' he said when he entered, 'I am a little late to-day, am I not?'

'You are a little behind the usual time, but not much.'

'By the way–' began the manager, and then his eye wandered to the specimen on the desk before Melville. 'Hello!' he cried, 'where did you get this?'

'That was left here a moment ago by a gentleman whom I wanted to wait until you came, but he seemed to be in a hurry. He is going to call again to-morrow.'

'What is his name?'

'Wentworth. Here's his card.'

'Ah, of a firm of accountants, eh? How did he come to have this?'

'He wanted to get some information about it, and I told him I would show it to you. Here is the note he left.'

 

The manager turned the crystal over and over in his hand, put on his eyeglasses and peered into it, then picked up the piece of paper and looked at what Kenyon had written.

'Did he say where he had got this?'

'Yes; he says there is a mine of it in America.'

'In America, eh? Did he say how much of this stuff there was?

'No; he didn't tell me that. The mine is working, however.'

'It is very curious! I never heard of it.'

'I gathered from him,' said Mr. Melville, 'that he wishes to do something with the mine over here. He did not say much, but he told me his partner—I forget his name—was talking at the present moment with young Longworth about it.'

'Longworth—who's he?'

'He's a man who goes in for mines or other investments; that is, his uncle does—a very shrewd old fellow, too. He is always on the right side of the market, no matter how it turns.'

'Then, he would be a man certain to know the value of the property if he had it, wouldn't he?'

'I don't know anybody who knows the value of what he has better than Longworth.'

'Ah, that's a pity,' mused the manager.

'Why? Is it a mineral of any worth?'

'Worth! A quarry of this would be better for us than a gold-mine!'

'Well, it struck me, in talking with Mr. Wentworth, that he had no particular idea of its utility. He seemed to know nothing about it, and that's why he came here for information.'

Again the manager looked at the paper before him.

'I'm not so sure about that,' he said. 'He wants to know the quantity used in a year, how much of it is consumed in England, and the price we pay for it per ton. I should judge, from that, he has an inkling of its value, and wants merely to corroborate it. Yes, I feel certain that is his move. I fear nothing very much can be done with Mr. Wentworth.'

'What were you thinking of doing?'

'My dear Melville, if we could get hold of such a mine, supposing it has an unlimited quantity of this mineral in it, we could control the china markets of the world.'

'You don't mean it!'

'It's a fact, because of the purity of the mineral. The stuff that we use is heavily impregnated with iron; we have to get the iron out of it, and that costs money. Not that the stuff itself is uncommon at all, it is one of the most common substances in Nature; but anything so pure as this I have never seen. I wonder if it is a fair specimen of what they can get out of the mine? If it is, I would rather own that property than any gold-mine I know of.'

'Well, I will see Mr. Wentworth, if you like. He is going to call here about this time to-morrow, and I will find out if some arrangement cannot be made with him.'

'No, I wouldn't do that,' replied the manager, who preferred never to do things in a direct way. 'I think your best plan is to see Longworth. The chances are that a City man like him does not know the value of the property; and, if you don't mind, I will write a letter to Mr. Wentworth and give him my opinion on this mineral.'

'What shall I say to Longworth?'

'Say anything you like; you understand that kind of business better than I. Here are the facts of the case. If we can get a controlling interest in this mine, always supposing that it turns out mineral up to sample—I suspect that this is a picked specimen; of course we should have to send a man to America and see—if we could get hold of this property, it would be the greatest feat in business we have ever done, provided, of course, we get it at a cheap enough price.'

'What do you call a cheap enough price?'

'You find out what Longworth will sell the mine for.'

'But supposing Wentworth owns the mine, or as much of it as Longworth does?'

'I think, somehow, that if you know Longworth you can perhaps make better terms with him. Meanwhile I will send a letter to Wentworth. You have his address there?'

'Yes.'

'Very well.'

Taking his pen, he dashed off the following letter:

'DEAR SIR,

'I regret to say that the mineral you left at our office yesterday is of no value to us. We do not use mineral of this nature, and, so far as I know, it is not used anywhere in England.

'Yours truly,
'ADAM BRAND.'
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