The Penguin Book of Gaslight Crime - Michael Sims [52]
“Then—then it’s a match after all!” Cecil ventured.
“Who says that?” was Simeon’s sharp inquiry.
“The birds of the air whisper it. One heard it at every corner three days ago.”
Rainshore turned his chair a little towards Cecil’s. “You’ll allow I ought to know something about it,” he said. “Well, I tell you it’s a lie.”
“I’m sorry I mentioned it,” Cecil apologised.
“Not at all,” said Simeon, stroking his chin. “I’m glad you did. Because now you can just tell all the birds of the air direct from me that in this particular case there isn’t going to be the usual alliance between the beauty and dollars of America and the aristocratic blood of Great Britain. Listen right here,” he continued confidentially, like a man whose secret feelings have been inconveniencing him for several hours. “This young spark—mind, I’ve nothing against him!—asks me to consent to his engagement with Geraldine. I tell him that I intend to settle half a million dollars on my daughter, and that the man she marries must cover that half-million with another. He says he has a thousand a year of his own, pounds—just nice for Geraldine’s gloves and candy!—and that he is the heir of his uncle, Lord Lowry; and that there is an entail; and that Lord Lowry is very rich, very old, and very unmarried; but that, being also very peculiar, he won’t come down with any money. It occurs to me to remark: ‘Suppose Lord Lowry marries and develops into the father of a man-child, where do you come in, Mr. Vaux-Lowry?’ ‘Oho! Lord Lowry marry! Impossible! Laughable!’ Then Geraldine begins to worry at me, and her mother too. And so I kind of issue an ultimatum—namely, I will consent to an engagement without a settlement if, on the marriage, Lord Lowry will give a note of hand for half a million dollars to Geraldine, payable on his marriage. See? My lord’s nephew goes off to persuade my lord, and returns with my lord’s answer in an envelope sealed with the great seal. I open it and I read—this is what I read: ‘To Mr. S. Rainshore, American draper. Sir—as a humorist you rank high. Accept the admiration of Your obedient servant, Lowry.’”
The millionaire laughed.
“Oh! It’s clever enough!” said Rainshore. “It’s very English and grand. Dashed if I don’t admire it! All the same, I’ve requested Mr. Vaux-Lowry, under the circumstances, to quit this town. I didn’t show him the letter—no. I spared his delicate feelings. I merely told him Lord Lowry had refused, and that I would be ready to consider his application favourably any time when he happened to have half a million dollars in his pocket.”
“And Miss Geraldine?”
“She’s flying the red flag, but she knows when my back’s against the wall. She knows her father. She’ll recover. Great Scott! She’s eighteen, he’s twenty-one; the whole affair is a high farce. And, moreover, I guess I want Geraldine to marry an American, after all.”
“And if she elopes?” Cecil murmured as if to himself, gazing at the set features of the girl, who was now alone once more.
“Elopes?”
Rainshore’s face reddened as his mood shifted suddenly from indulgent cynicism to profound anger. Cecil was amazed at the transformation, until he remembered to have heard long ago that Simeon himself had eloped.
“It was just a fancy that flashed into my mind,” Cecil smiled diplomatically.
“I should let it flash out again if I were you,” said Rainshore, with a certain grimness. And Cecil perceived the truth of the maxim that a parent can never forgive his own fault in his child.
II
“You’ve come to sympathise with me,” said Geraldine Rainshore calmly, as Cecil, leaving the father for a few moments, strolled across the terrace towards the daughter.
“It’s my honest, kindly face that gives me away,” he responded lightly. “But what am I to sympathise with you about?”
“You know what,” the girl said briefly.
They stood together near the balustrade, looking out over the sea into the crimson eye of the sun; and all the afternoon activities of Ostend were surging round them—the muffled sound of musical instruments