’You’ve been in the army, and that gives a man bearing, and you’ve been half over the world, and that gives knowledge; and nature have favoured you with good looks. The lads are jealous of you.’
’They do not appreciate me, certainly,’ said Charles, swelling with self-importance.
’This is a wicked world,’ said Mrs. Veale. Then she produced a bottle of gin and a glass, and put them at Charles’s elbow. ’Take a drop of comfort,’ she said persuasively, ’though for such as you it should be old crusted port and not the Plymouth liquor, as folks say is distilled from turnips.’
Young Luxmore needed no pressing; he helped himself.
’I reckon,’ pursued Mrs. Veale, ’you were done out of Coombe Park by those who didn’t scruple to swear it away. Money and law together will turn the best rights topsy-turvy.’
’No doubt about that, ma’am,’ said Charles. ’I’ve heard my father say, many a time, that with a hundred pounds he could win Coombe Park back.’
’Then why do you not lay out the hundred pounds?’
’Because I haven’t got ’em,’ answered Charles.
’Oh! they’re to be got,’ said the housekeeper, ’as the gipsy said to his wife when she told ’n she were partial to chickens.’
’It seems to me,’ said the young man, ’that it is a hard world for them that is straight. The crooked ones have the best of it.’
’Not at all,’ answered the housekeeper. ’The crooked ones can’t go through a straight hole. It is they who can bend about like the ferret as gets on best, straight or crooked as suits the occasion.’
Charles stood up, drank off his glass, and paced the room. The housekeeper filled his glass again. The young man observed her actions and returned to his seat. As he flung himself into the settle again he said, ’I don’t know what the devil makes you take such an interest in my affairs.’
Mrs. Veale looked hard at him, and answered, ’A woman can’t be indifferent to a goodlooking man.’ Charles tossed off his glass to hide his confusion. So this bleached creature had fallen in love with him!—a woman his senior by some fifteen years. He was flattered, but felt that the situation was unpleasant.
’This is a bad world,’ he said, ’and I wish I had the re-making of it. The good luck goes to the undeserving.’
’That is only true because those who have wits want readiness. A screw will go in and hold where a nail would split. Coombe Park is yours by right; it has been taken from you by wrong. I should get it back again were I you, and not be too nice about the means.’ Charles sighed and shook his head.
