The visitor drew a card from a very dainty case and laid it on Mr.
Chelm"s desk.
"My name is Prime, sir,--Francis Prime. I have come to consult you on a business matter."
"Pray sit down, Mr. Prime. What is it I can do for you?"
"You knew my father, I think?"
"Ralph Prime, of New York? Most a.s.suredly. I had a high regard for him."
"I am his only son. He died, as you may be aware, five years ago in reduced circ.u.mstances, because he preferred to remain honest. An odd erratic choice, was it not?"
"I was sorry to hear he had been unfortunate," answered Mr. Chelm quietly.
"Yes, sir, paradoxical as it may seem, my father was an honest man. One might have supposed his only son would inherit that trait, if nothing else. But it must have skipped a generation. I am not what I seem. I am a sham." He sat in silence for some minutes stroking his mustache.
"I judge that you have got into some difficulty, Mr. Prime. If so, I am very sorry to hear it. Be frank with me, and as your father"s friend I will do what I can for you. But as a lawyer I must ask you to conceal nothing." So saying Mr. Chelm made a move as if to close the door.
"Pray, do not trouble yourself, sir. My story is already known to so many people that privacy is immaterial. Let me, instead, ask permission to light a cigarette,--that is, if you do not object to smoking and are sufficiently at leisure to hear me to the end."
"Certainly. Make it a cigar and I will join you; and pray try one of these if you will, for my time is quite at your disposal," answered Mr.
Chelm, who it was evident to me was amused and puzzled by his visitor.
"Thank you." He settled himself comfortably in his chair, and after a preliminary puff, said: "I am no ordinary felon. I am even not, strictly speaking, amenable to the laws. I am however, as I have told you already, a sham. The world believes me to be a young fellow of fortune, whose only concern is with the cut of his coat and the smile of his mistress. The world for once is in error. I am nothing of the sort.
Appearances are against me, I admit. Even you I fancy were deceived. No, my dear sir, while every one judges me to be a mere b.u.t.terfly of fashion, I am an idealist at heart. And the worst of it is that no one will believe me. All that I want is a chance, an opportunity to prove I am that which I claim; but n.o.body will give it to me. If I venture to suggest that I am in earnest, the statement excites sneers or ridicule.
For nearly two years I have been trying to find something to do, and without success. I have exhausted my own city, and have now come to yours. Your name was familiar to me as one which my father respected, and it occurred to me to tell you my story. I am quite prepared to be informed that there are a thousand applicants for every vacancy, and that such a case as mine is not especially deserving. In one sense of the word you would be right; there are others who suffer more acutely than I, but few who suffer more unjustly. And the whole cause is to be found in a single phrase,--I am a gentleman."
"You are indeed to be pitied," said Mr. Chelm, with an amused laugh.
"And what is more, it is not my fault. I am not responsible for it; I was born so. My case is precisely opposite to that of most of my contemporaries. They find it easy enough to get occupation, but very difficult to be gentlemen; I know how to behave like a gentleman, but can find nothing to do. Gentlemen are evolved, not made. Would to Heaven I had been consulted on the subject! But I awoke one day and found myself what I am. Let me rehea.r.s.e to you briefly my qualifications. I was sent to school abroad, and was graduated from college at home. I speak fluently three modern languages besides my own, and have a bowing acquaintance with two dead ones. I have read widely enough in history, political economy, literature, science, and music to be superficial. I can write verses, play on the piano and flute, fence, flirt, and lead the cotillon. All this the public seem to recognize and give me credit for; but when I ask them to take me seriously, as they would the veriest beggar in the street, the frivolous look incredulous and giggle, and the practical frown and point me to the door. And why? Simply,--and this will, it may be, antic.i.p.ate your criticism,--simply because I wear well-fitting clothes, address a lady with gallantry, and change my coat for dinner. Let me add at once, if you have no a.s.sistance to offer as to how I shall find employment except to go from office to office with a long face and baggy trousers, I must respectfully decline to take the step. It has become a matter of pride with me: I draw the line there.
Call it volatile, foolish, obstinate, what you will,--I propose to be a gentleman to the last. I will starve with a smile on my face and a flawless coat on my back, though it be my only one. As I have said, gentlemen are evolved, not made; and we owe it to our sons to keep up the standard of the race. They will not even allow, sir, that I am an American. I am received with scorn, and denied my birthright, not only by those to whom I apply for work, but by the Arabs of the street and the public press. I am not complaining; I am merely stating the facts of the case. They even cast Ike in my teeth,--Ike the imperious, beautifully ugly Ike," he added, stooping down to pat the bull-terrier, who showed his teeth and growled affectionately. "Now, Mr. Chelm, you have my story. I am in earnest. Will you help me?"
"I can understand your difficulties to some extent, Mr. Prime, and am not altogether without sympathy for you," began the lawyer gravely, after a short reflection. "The times are hard for everybody undeniably, and especially for young men in your position. It is a comparatively easy matter to draw a cheque to alleviate distress, but finding work for anybody to-day is next to impossible. However, as one can never tell what may turn up, let me ask you a blunt question. What are you fit for?
What can you do?"
"Here again, sir, the world would tell you that I was fit for nothing except to play the lute beneath a lady"s window. But if you will believe me, I am not without business knowledge. Gentleman as I am, I have long cherished an ambition to become a merchant prince (it is well to aspire high),--a genuine merchant-prince, however, and not the counterfeit article who acc.u.mulates millions for his children to squander. I have views upon the subject. I am an idealist, as I have told you, and there was a time when I thought my father very rich, and that I should be able to carry out my theories. Since then I have resolved to win back before I die the fortune he lost; and with a view to that I devote several hours in each day (if this should be breathed abroad, my reputation for consummate emptiness might suffer) to the study of exports and imports, markets and exchanges, and all that relates to commercial affairs. You asked me what I am fit for, Mr. Chelm. My father was a banker. I should like to follow in his footsteps. But supplicants cannot be choosers.
Procure me a clerkship in any line of business, and I shall try to prove myself worthy of your patronage."
"Humph! I wish I could help you, with all my heart. But, frankly, I know of nothing at the moment. Bankers are discharging their clerks, not engaging new ones. I will make inquiries however, and see if it is possible to do anything for you. You have applied to all your friends in New York, you say, without avail?"
"Entirely. The few who have any faith in my professions are powerless to give me employment."
"Let me see: to-day is Wednesday. Can you call again on Sat.u.r.day, Mr.
Prime? Mind, I promise nothing. In fact, I have every reason to believe that I shall be unsuccessful."
The appointment thus made was due to my touching the electric bell in my office,--a signal agreed upon as an indication of my desire to a.s.sist any applicant for aid. Accordingly, when I entered Mr. Chelm"s room after his visitor was gone, I was greeted with a bantering smile.
"How now, my fair philanthropist! What scheme have you to relieve the plight of this knight-errant?"
"In the first place," I said, "who is he? Do you believe his story? What sort of a person was his father?"
"Three questions in one breath! The last is the easiest to answer. This young man"s father was one of the wealthiest bankers in New York fifteen years ago. I knew him well: a man who was the very soul of honor, shrewd and liberal in his business notions, and in his bearing the pattern of a finished gentleman,--one of your genuine aristocrats; and, like his son, a bit of a dandy. He came to grief, as so many of us do, through misplaced confidence. Certain parties whom he trusted implicitly made a wreck of his entire fortune. It was said at the time that he might have saved a large portion of it, had he been willing to take advantage of a legal technicality as against his creditors. But, as his son said, he preferred to remain honest. He died not many years ago, and left this boy very little, I fancy, but an untarnished name. Of the son I know really nothing. I have never seen him before. He is not unlike his father in appearance, and is even more fastidious in his dress. That may be from bravado, of course. What he says about gentlemen not having a fair chance in this country has a certain amount of truth in it."
"A great deal of truth, it seems to me," I answered.
"Very likely. But it is to be borne in mind that the so-called gentlemen have a heavy score against them in the past. They have had their innings; and now that they are out, democracy is not disposed to let them off too easily. The sins of the forefathers being visited on the children is a proverb as stable as the hills in its logical results."
"Yes. But do you not think it is cruel to turn the cold shoulder on a man merely because he dresses well?"
"Undoubtedly. But they have themselves to blame for it. The world has not yet got accustomed to the idea that a man with a flawless coat on his back means to do anything. Not so very long ago such a thing was unknown. I am willing to admit that when the gentlemen consent to work, they make the best workers; but the burden of evidence, as we lawyers say, is on them."
"The world refuses to believe because it is envious. There isn"t one of the business men who decline to give Mr. Prime a chance who wouldn"t give half his fortune to be like him if he could."
"You are a philosopher as well as a philanthropist, young lady, I see.
You may not be far wrong. But if Mr. Prime knew what a champion he has, he would cease to despair. You asked, I think, if I believed his story.
It is quite evident what your opinion is," said Mr. Chelm, with a laugh.
"Very well then, I do believe it; and I want to help him."
"Romance against the lawyers, ha! ha!"
"I am a very determined young person when I make up my mind. You cannot laugh me out of it, Mr. Chelm."
"Heaven forbid! But what do you propose to do?"
"Give him a chance."
The lawyer rubbed his chin reflectively. "I am perfectly willing to resign in his favor, but otherwise I know of no vacancy either in your or my gift to fill," he said with a smile.
"I cannot spare you yet. I have another plan."
"And that?"
"A very romantic one, as you have predicted. I propose to set him up in business."
"As a gentleman?"
"He is that already. No, as a banker."
"Indeed!"
"What do you think of my idea?"
"I have heard only the beginning of it. It is natural enough to feel the inclination to set a handsome young man up as a banker; but I fail to comprehend yet the details of the scheme."
"I shall leave them to you."
"To me? But I regret to say, Miss Harlan, that I know of no banking-house at present that would employ the services of this embryo merchant-prince."