Gustave would not be intimidated, but replied firmly--
"Knavery!"
"Gustave!" cried Sandow furiously, "you dare"--
"Naturally that word applies only to Mr. Jenkins. The remarkable attention with which that honourable personage received me, the constant sounding of my praises, the popularity of my name, and the brilliant success of my pen, which were to work wonders here as they had done at home--all this roused my suspicions and induced me to undertake the journey. You don"t know the place, Frank, or at all events have only glanced superficially at it. But now that I have opened your eyes you will seek for the proof of my a.s.sertions, and let the whole thing drop."
Sandow did not seem much disposed to profit by the means of escape which his brother offered to him.
"Who says I shall?" asked he harshly. "Do you think I can give up without an effort the hundreds of thousands already invested there, merely because you have some sentimental objections to urge. The land is as good or as bad as in many other districts, and the immigrants have to struggle with climate and soil everywhere. These difficulties will be easily overcome by perseverance. It would not be the first German colony which had flourished under most unfavourable circ.u.mstances."
"After hundreds and thousands had been ruined! That is enriching foreign soil with German blood at too great a cost."
Sandow bit his lips; he evidently controlled himself with difficulty, and his voice was hoa.r.s.e and stifled as he replied.
"What business had you to go there on your own account? Such exaggerated conscientiousness is here quite misplaced, and also quite useless. And if I did not accept Jenkins" offer there are plenty of others who would; and I must acknowledge that he applied to me first."
"First to you--a German--that was certainly a sign of remarkable respect from an American."
It was singular that the same man who a quarter of an hour before, had shown himself so anxious to conceal the choice of his heart from his austere brother, since it might displease him, now boldly defied him, under circ.u.mstances in which he could not be so profoundly interested.
Sandow, though ignorant of his conversation with Jessie, was astonished to the highest degree at this conduct.
"You seem to be now playing the part of moral hero," said he with bitter sarcasm; "that does not suit very well with the extremely material motives which brought you here. You should have first made things clear to yourself. If you want a share in my house you must set its interest before everything, and in that interest I require you to write this article, and take care that it appears in a suitable place.
Do you hear, Gustave? Under any circ.u.mstances you will do that!"
"To bring my countrymen here to rot in that swamp of fever and misery!
No."
"Consider the subject well before you give such a decided refusal,"
warned Sandow with an icy calm, under which lay a half-concealed threat. "It is the first demand I make on you; if you fail me now, any future accommodation is impossible. It is quite in my power to draw back from the proposed arrangement; think of that!"
"Frank, you would not force me"--
"I force you to nothing; I only explain to you that we part if you persist in your refusal. If you are prepared for the consequences, well and good. I hold to my conditions."
He bent over his writing table, and took from it some papers which he placed in his pocket-book. Gustave stood silently by, his eyes fixed on the floor, a dark cloud on his brow.
"Just at the moment when Frida is on her way here," murmured he.
"Impossible. I cannot sacrifice that."
"Well?" asked Sandow, turning to him.
"Give me time for consideration. The thing has come so suddenly, so unexpectedly. I will think it over."
The elder brother was quite contented with this partial submission; he had certainly not doubted that his threat would produce its effect.
"Good! a week sooner or later does not matter. I hope you will have sense to see that one must act according to circ.u.mstances. But come now, it is high time that we were at the office. And once more, Gustave, give yourself up to my guidance for the future, and undertake no more extravagances like this journey. You see, it only gives rise to differences between us, and increases the difficulties of your position."
"Decidedly," said Gustave, half aloud, while he prepared to follow his brother. "My position is tolerably difficult, worse than I had antic.i.p.ated."
It was afternoon of the same day, and Jessie awaited with some anxiety and a great deal of curiosity the arrival of the young visitor. Gustave had told her in the morning that he should try to leave business earlier than usual, in order to meet Miss Palm at the station, and bring her to the house before his brother came home. At the appointed hour, then, he entered the drawing-room, leading a young girl.
"Miss Frida Palm," said he, introducing her. "My protegee, from this moment _our_ protegee, since you are so good as to afford her an asylum in your house."
Jessie felt painfully impressed by this mode of introduction. So he did not even venture to introduce the girl to her as his betrothed.
"Protegee," that was a word open to so many interpretations. He intended evidently to leave himself a means of retreat, should his brother show himself unyielding. Miss Clifford pitied with her whole heart the young creature who had given herself to such an egoist, and consequently her reception was warmer than she had at first intended.
"You are very welcome, Miss Palm," said she kindly; "I have heard all about you, and you may confide yourself to me without fear. I am not accustomed to neglect my protegees."
The "I" was slightly but distinctly accented, but he, at whom the remark was directed, remained, alas, totally unmoved. He seemed extremely pleased that his plan had succeeded, and the young stranger replied in a low, rather trembling voice--
"You are very kind, Miss Clifford, and I only hope that I may deserve your goodness."
Jessie placed her visitor beside her, and while the usual remarks on the weather, her journey, and arrival were made, she took the opportunity of examining her more closely. She was certainly a very young girl, almost a child, who had evidently scarcely reached her sixteenth year, but the delicate childish features bore an expression of seriousness and decision, astonishing at such an age. The large, dark eyes generally rested on the ground, but when they were raised for a moment, they gave a glance full of shyness and restraint which suited ill with the energetic features. The dark hair was simply drawn back from her face, and the deep mourning dress made the young stranger appear even paler than she naturally was.
"You are an orphan?" asked Jessie, with a glance at the dress.
"I lost my mother six months ago," was the short, touching answer.
That touched a kindred string in Jessie"s bosom. She still mourned too for her beloved parents, and by the recollection came an expression of pain in her face.
"In that our fates are alike. I am an orphan too, and it is only a year since my father was torn from me. Yours is, no doubt, much longer dead."
The girl"s lips trembled, and she replied almost inaudibly--
"In my childhood. I scarcely knew him."
"Poor child," said Jessie, with overflowing sympathy. "It must indeed be sad to stand so alone and desolate in the world."
"Oh! I am not desolate. I have found a protector, the n.o.blest and best of men!"
In these words lay a truly affecting devotion, and the look which at the same moment was cast upon Gustave, betrayed an almost enthusiastic grat.i.tude; the latter, however, received it all with enraging indifference, with the air of a sultan, as Jessie angrily considered.
He appeared to look upon it as a richly deserved compliment, and replied in his usual jesting manner--
"You see, Miss Clifford, what my reputation with Frida is. I should be happy if you would come round to this opinion too, which, alas, I dare not hope."
Jessie ignored this remark. To her the manner in which he received the devotion of his future wife, and treated it as a subject for jesting was quite revolting, and she returned to Miss Palm.
"At present I must welcome you alone. You do not yet know my guardian, but in a short time you will meet him, and I hope with all my heart that you will succeed in gaining his sympathy."
Frida made no reply; she looked in the same timid manner at the speaker, and then dumbly at the ground. Jessie was rather surprised at this strange reception of her kindly meant words, but Gustave joined in the conversation, with the remark--
"At first you must have great consideration for Frida. It will be difficult for her to accustom herself to her new surroundings, and the part which she is forced to play in the house oppresses and terrifies her."
"Forced at your desire!" Jessie could not refrain from adding.
"Yes, that cannot now be altered. At all events she knows the conditions, and also that there is no other way of reaching our end.
Frida, you confide entirely in me, don"t you?"