My Lady's Money Page 2

  CHAPTER II.

  ROBERT MOODY was at this time nearly forty years of age. He was ashy, quiet, dark person, with a pale, closely-shaven face, agreeablyanimated by large black eyes, set deep in their orbits. His mouth wasperhaps his best feature; he had firm, well-shaped lips, which softenedon rare occasions into a particularly winning smile. The whole look ofthe man, in spite of his habitual reserve, declared him to be eminentlytrustworthy. His position in Lady Lydiard's household was in no senseof the menial sort. He acted as her almoner and secretary as well as hersteward--distributed her charities, wrote her letters on business, paidher bills, engaged her servants, stocked her wine-cellar, was authorizedto borrow books from her library, and was served with his meals in hisown room. His parentage gave him claims to these special favors; he wasby birth entitled to rank as a gentleman. His father had failed at atime of commercial panic as a country banker, had paid a good dividend,and had died in exile abroad a broken-hearted man. Robert had triedto hold his place in the world, but adverse fortune kept him down.Undeserved disaster followed him from one employment to another, untilhe abandoned the struggle, bade a last farewell to the pride of otherdays, and accepted the position considerately and delicately offered tohim in Lady Lydiard's house. He had now no near relations living, andhe had never made many friends. In the intervals of occupation he led alonely life in his little room. It was a matter of secret wonder amongthe women in the servants' hall, considering his personal advantages andthe opportunities which must surely have been thrown in his way, thathe had never tempted fortune in the character of a married man. RobertMoody entered into no explanations on that subject. In his own sad andquiet way he continued to lead his own sad and quiet life. The women allfailing, from the handsome housekeeper downward, to make the smallestimpression on him, consoled themselves by prophetic visions of hisfuture relations with the sex, and predicted vindictively that "his timewould come."

  "Well," said Lady Lydiard, "and what have you done?"

  "Your Ladyship seemed to be anxious about the dog," Moody answered, inthe low tone which was habitual to him. "I went first to the veterinarysurgeon. He had been called away into the country; and--"

  Lady Lydiard waved away the conclusion of the sentence with her hand."Never mind the surgeon. We must find somebody else. Where did you gonext?"

  "To your Ladyship's lawyer. Mr. Troy wished me to say that he will havethe honor of waiting on you--"

  "Pass over the lawyer, Moody. I want to know about the painter's widow.Is it true that Mrs. Tollmidge and her family are left in helplesspoverty?"

  "Not quite true, my Lady. I have seen the clergyman of the parish, whotakes an interest in the case--"

  Lady Lydiard interrupted her steward for the third time. "Did youmention my name?" she asked sharply.

  "Certainly not, my Lady. I followed my instructions, and described youas a benevolent person in search of cases of real distress. It is quitetrue that Mr. Tollmidge has died, leaving nothing to his family. But thewidow has a little income of seventy pounds in her own right."

  "Is that enough to live on, Moody?" her Ladyship asked.

  "Enough, in this case, for the widow and her daughter," Moody answered."The difficulty is to pay the few debts left standing, and to start thetwo sons in life. They are reported to be steady lads; and the family ismuch respected in the neighborhood. The clergyman proposes to get a fewinfluential names to begin with, and to start a subscription."

  "No subscription!" protested Lady Lydiard. "Mr. Tollmidge was LordLydiard's cousin; and Mrs. Tollmidge is related to his Lordship bymarriage. It would be degrading to my husband's memory to have thebegging-box sent round for his relations, no matter how distant they maybe. Cousins!" exclaimed her Ladyship, suddenly descending from the loftyranges of sentiment to the low. "I hate the very name of them! A personwho is near enough to me to be my relation and far enough off from meto be my sweetheart, is a double-faced sort of person that I don't like.Let's get back to the widow and her sons. How much do they want?"

  "A subscription of five hundred pounds, my Lady, would provide foreverything--if it could only be collected."

  "It _shall_ be collected, Moody! I will pay the subscription out of myown purse." Having asserted herself in those noble terms, she spoilt theeffect of her own outburst of generosity by dropping to the sordid viewof the subject in her next sentence. "Five hundred pounds is a good bitof money, though; isn't it, Moody?"

  "It is, indeed, my Lady." Rich and generous as he knew his mistressto be, her proposal to pay the whole subscription took the steward bysurprise. Lady Lydiard's quick perception instantly detected what waspassing in his mind.

  "You don't quite understand my position in this matter," she said. "WhenI read the newspaper notice of Mr. Tollmidge's death, I searched amonghis Lordship's papers to see if they really were related. I discoveredsome letters from Mr. Tollmidge, which showed me that he and LordLydiard were cousins. One of those letters contains some very painfulstatements, reflecting most untruly and unjustly on my conduct; lies,in short," her Ladyship burst out, losing her dignity, as usual. "Lies,Moody, for which Mr. Tollmidge deserved to be horsewhipped. I would havedone it myself if his Lordship had told me at the time. No matter; it'suseless to dwell on the thing now," she continued, ascending again tothe forms of expression which became a lady of rank. "This unhappy manhas done me a gross injustice; my motives may be seriously misjudged, ifI appear personally in communicating with his family. If I relieve themanonymously in their present trouble, I spare them the exposure of apublic subscription, and I do what I believe his Lordship would havedone himself if he had lived. My desk is on the other table. Bring ithere, Moody; and let me return good for evil, while I'm in the humor forit!"

  Moody obeyed in silence. Lady Lydiard wrote a check.

  "Take that to the banker's, and bring back a five-hundred pound note,"she said. "I'll inclose it to the clergyman as coming from 'an unknownfriend.' And be quick about it. I am only a fallible mortal, Moody.Don't leave me time enough to take the stingy view of five hundredpounds."

  Moody went out with the check. No delay was to be apprehended inobtaining the money; the banking-house was hard by, in St. James'sStreet. Left alone, Lady Lydiard decided on occupying her mind in thegenerous direction by composing her anonymous letter to the clergyman.She had just taken a sheet of note-paper from her desk, when a servantappeared at the door announcing a visitor--

  "Mr. Felix Sweetsir!"