Men's Wives [5]
which had been purchased in the same bargains. If he sold his goods at an enormous price, he paid for them at a rate almost equally exorbitant. There was not an article in his shop but came to him through his Israelite providers; and in the very front shop itself sat a gentleman who was the nominee of one of them, and who was called Mr. Mossrose. He was there to superintend the cash account, and to see that certain instalments were paid to his principals, according to certain agreements entered into between Mr. Eglantine and them. Having that sort of opinion of Mr. Mossrose which Damocles may have had of the sword which hung over his head, of course Mr. Eglantine hated his foreman profoundly. "HE an artist," would the former gentleman exclaim; "why, he's only a disguised bailiff! Mossrose indeed! The chap's name's Amos, and he sold oranges before he came here." Mr. Mossrose, on his side, utterly despised Mr. Eglantine, and looked forward to the day when he would become the proprietor of the shop, and take Eglantine for a foreman; and then it would HIS turn to sneer and bully, and ride the high horse. Thus it will be seen that there was a skeleton in the great perfumer's house, as the saying is: a worm in his heart's core, and though to all appearance prosperous, he was really in an awkward position. What Mr. Eglantine's relations were with Mr. Walker may be imagined from the following dialogue which took place between the two gentlemen at five o'clock one summer's afternoon, when Mr. Walker, issuing from his chambers, came across to the perfumer's shop:-- "Is Eglantine at home, Mr. Mossrose?" said Walker to the foreman, who sat in the front shop. "Don't know--go and look" (meaning go and be hanged); for Mossrose also hated Mr. Walker. "If you're uncivil I'll break your bones, Mr. AMOS," says Mr. Walker, sternly. "I should like to see you try, Mr. HOOKER Walker," replies the undaunted shopman; on which the Captain, looking several tremendous canings at him, walked into the back room or "studio." "How are you, Tiny my buck?" says the Captain. "Much doing?" "Not a soul in town. I 'aven't touched the hirons all day," replied Mr. Eglantine, in rather a desponding way. "Well, just get them ready now, and give my whiskers a turn. I'm going to dine with Billingsgate and some out-and-out fellows at the 'Regent,' and so, my lad, just do your best." "I can't," says Mr. Eglantine. "I expect ladies, Captain, every minute." "Very good; I don't want to trouble such a great man, I'm sure. Good-bye, and let me hear from you THIS DAY WEEK, Mr. Eglantine." "This day week" meant that at seven days from that time a certain bill accepted by Mr. Eglantine would be due, and presented for payment. "Don't be in such a hurry, Captain--do sit down. I'll curl you in one minute. And, I say, won't the party renew?" "Impossible--it's the third renewal." "But I'll make the thing handsome to you;--indeed I will." "How much?" "Will ten pounds do the business?" "What! offer my principal ten pounds? Are you mad, Eglantine?--A little more of the iron to the left whisker." "No, I meant for commission." "Well, I'll see if that will do. The party I deal with, Eglantine, has power, I know, and can defer the matter no doubt. As for me, you know, I'VE nothing to do in the affair, and only act as a friend between you and him. I give you my honour and soul, I do." "I know you do, my dear sir." The last two speeches were lies. The perfumer knew perfectly well that Mr. Walker would pocket the ten pounds; but he was too easy to care for paying it, and too timid to quarrel with such a powerful friend. And he had on three different occasions already paid ten pounds' fine for the renewal of the bill in question, all of which bonuses he knew went to his friend Mr. Walker. Here, too, the reader will perceive what was, in part, the meaning of the word "Agency" on Mr. Walker's door. He was a go-between between money-lenders and borrowers in this world, and certain small sums always remained with him in the course of the transaction. He was an agent for wine,