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"Mr Musselboro will be here directly," said Mrs Van Siever, as she was starting for Mrs Broughton's house. "You had better tell him to come to me there; or, stop, perhaps you had better keep him here till I come back. Tell him to be sure and wait for me." "Very well, mamma. I suppose he can wait below?" "Why should he wait below?" said Mrs Van Siever, very angrily.
"I am sorry for that, mamma, for I shall certainly fight shy of Mr Musselboro." "You can do as you please. I can't force you, and I shan't try. But I can make your life a burden to you, and I will. What's the matter with the man that he isn't good enough for you? He's as good as any of your own people ever was. I hate your new-fangled airs, with pictures painted on the sly, and all the rest of it.
He told her what he had learned in the City, that Broughton's property had never been great, and that his personal liabilities at the time of his death were supposed to be small. But he had fallen lately altogether into the hands of Musselboro, who, though penniless himself in the way of capital, was backed by the money of Mrs Van Siever.
He did not quite understand the manner in which the affairs of the establishment were worked, though he had been informed that Mrs Van Siever was one of the partners. That Dobbs Broughton was the managing man, who really did the business, he was convinced; and he did not therefore like to be answered peremptorily by such a one as Musselboro. "I should wish to see Mr Broughton," he said.
Both Mr Broughton and Mr Musselboro bought and sold a good deal, but it was chiefly on account. The shares which were bought and sold very generally did not pass from hand to hand; but the difference in the price of the shares did do so. And then they had another little business between them. They lent money on interest.
"If you have any demand to make, I beg that you will send in your account for work done to Mr Musselboro. He is my man of business. Clara, are you ready to come home? The cab is waiting at the door, at sixpence the quarter of an hour, if you will be pleased to remember."
It had been understood that Clara was to wait at home till her mother should return before she again went across to Mrs Broughton. At about eleven Mrs Van Siever came in, and her daughter intercepted her at the dining-room door before she had made her way upstairs to Mr Musselboro. "How is she, mamma?" said Clara with something of hypocrisy in her assumed interest for Mrs Broughton.
Nor could he apply to Mrs Van Siever after what had passed this morning. To Clara Van Siever he would have applied, but that it was impossible he should reach Clara except through her mother. "I suppose I had better go to her," he said, after a while. And then he went, leaving Musselboro in the drawing-room.
Both men wore their hats, and the aspect of the room was not the aspect of a place of business. They had been silent for some minutes when Broughton took his cigar-case out of his pocket, and nibbled off the end of a cigar, preparatory to lighting it. "You had better not smoke here this morning, Dobbs," said Musselboro. "Why shouldn't I smoke in my own room?" "Because she'll be here just now."
And in this business there was a third partner, whose name did not appear on the dirty door-post. That third partner was Mrs Van Siever, the mother of Clara Van Siever whom Mr Conway Dalrymple intended to portray as Jael driving a nail into Sisera's head. On a certain morning Mr Broughton and Mr Musselboro were sitting together in the office which has been described.
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