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Updated: June 24, 2025
They were in Mr Broughton's room, and occupied each arm-chair on the different sides of the fire. Mr Musselboro was sitting close to the table, on which a ledger was open before him, and he had a pen and ink before him, as though he had been at work. Dobbs Broughton had a small betting-book in his hand, and was seated with his feet up against the side of the fireplace.
"That has gone to the dogs. They say at least that his share of it had done so." "And he was ruined?" "They say so. That is, Musselboro says so, and Mrs Van Siever." "And what do you say, Conway?" "The less I say the better. I have my hopes, only you're such a talkative fellow, one can't trust you." "I never told any secret of yours, old fellow."
"Look here, Musselboro; if you're going to throw me over, just tell me so, and let us begin fair." "I'm not going to throw you over. I've always been on the square with you. Why don't you trust me out and out, and then I could do a deal better for you. You ask me now about your money. I don't know about your money, Mrs Van Siever. How am I to know anything about your money, Mrs Van Siever?
She had heard everything, having indeed gone to Musselboro in the City, and having penetrated even to the sanctum of Mr Bangles. To Mr Bangles she had explained that she was the bosom-friend of the widow of the unfortunate man, and that it was her miserable duty to make herself the mistress of all the circumstances.
By this time they were in the drawing-room, and the door was closed. Dalrymple had put his hand on the other man's arm, and had led him downstairs, out of reach of hearing from the room above. "You'll tell her, won't you?" said Musselboro. Then Dalrymple tried to think what loving female friend there was who could break the news to the unfortunate woman.
"I hope you are not going to leave me?" he said, in a voice that was intended to convey much of love, and something of melancholy. "I am so shocked by what has happened, Mr Musselboro, that I am altogether unfit for conversation. I was with poor Mrs Broughton last night, and I shall return to her when mamma comes home." "It is sad, certainly; but what was there to be expected?
Get her once here, without her mother knowing it, or Broughton, or any one. I've got the subject, Jael and Sisera, you know. I should like to put Musselboro in as Sisera, with the nail half driven in." Mrs Dobbs Broughton declared that the scheme was a great deal too wicked for her participation, but at last she promised to think of it.
When a woman does go in for it, she is much more thorough than any man." Then Broughton turned over the little pages of his book, and Musselboro pondered over the big pages of his book, and there was silence for a quarter of an hour. "There's something about nine hundred and fifteen pounds due to her," said Musselboro. "I daresay there is."
But Musselboro had gone, and Dalrymple could not learn from the head woman-servant whom he saw, whether before going he had told to any one in the house the tale of the catastrophe which had happened in the City. Servants are wonderful actors, looking often as though they knew nothing when they know everything, as though they understood nothing, when they understand all.
He had known that Musselboro had been introduced to Broughton by Mrs Van Siever, but, nevertheless, he had regarded the man as being no more than Broughton's clerk. And now he was told that Musselboro was to marry Clara Van Siever, and have all Mrs Van Siever's money. He resolved, at last, that he would run his risk about the money, and take Clara either with or without it, if she would have him.
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