Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2065 page)

Rachel
(
heartily
). My dear Franklin! this is a pleasure I never hoped for. (FRANKLIN
advances as if to kiss her. After a momentary hesitation, she offers him her cheek.
) Oh, yes — you are my cousin — you may kiss me. Turn to the light, Franklin. Do you know that you are not looking at all well? What is the matter with you?

Franklin.
I have given up smoking, Rachel, and I have not had a good night’s rest since I left off my cigars.

Rachel.
Why have you given up smoking?

Franklin
(
whispering
). You dislike tobacco. I have given up smoking to please
you.
(GODFREY
jealously approaches, as if to interrupt them, and speaks aside with
RACHEL.
She listens to him for a moment, and then turns away to take off her hat and cloak.
FRANKLIN
notices
GODFREY’S
jealousy when he approaches
RACHEL,
and speaks aside
). Jealous of my whispering to Rachel! Mercenary humbug! (
He addresses
GODFREY
coldly.
) How do you do, Godfrey?

Godfrey
(
with excessive cordiality
). Delighted to see you again, dear Franklin! (
Aside.
) He has designs on Rachel! Fortune-hunting vagabond!

Rachel
(
returning
). Where is Miss Clack? (
Aside to
FRANKLIN). I am obliged to have a chaperon, and I have taken poor Miss Clack. Do be civil to her! (
She looks round, and discovers
MISS CLACK.) My dear Drusilla! what are you looking at so very attentively?

Miss Clack
(
mournfully
). I am renewing my acquaintance, Rachel, with the objects of beauty in this luxurious house. Wealth always has a dazzling effect on me at first. I shall soon get used to it, dear. You will excuse a poor relation, I am sure. (
She notices
FRANKLIN,
and speaks to him with spiteful humility.
) Mr. Franklin Blake, I believe? I beg your pardon, sir, for not having spoken to you before.

Franklin.
Miss Clack, your politeness overwhelms me. How many tracts have you scattered, and how many obdurate persons have you converted, since I saw you last?

Miss Clack
(
innocently
). Am I expected to laugh? Dearest Rachel, is this what the world calls wit? It is quite thrown away, Mr. Blake, on poor me. You don’t offend me, sir, by sneering at my humble efforts in the good cause. (FRANKLIN
looks at
RACHEL
with a smile.
MISS CLACK
observes him.
) I can even put up with your openly disbelieving what I say. (
She turns to
GODFREY.) Dear Mr. Godfrey?

Godfrey.
Dear Miss Clack!

Miss Clack.
You are our charitable hero. Will you tell Mr. Blake that it is quite useless to attempt to offend us?

Godfrey
(
returning the compliment
).You are our Dorcas of modern times! Will Mr. Blake believe me, if he won’t believe Dorcas? (MISS CLACK
opens her bag of tracts.
)

Franklin
(
eyeing the bag
). I’ll do anything to be agreeable to Dorcas and the hero — I’ll even accept a tract!

Miss Clack
(
changing her mind
). We will wait, Mr. Blake, till you are in a fitter frame of mind. Dear Rachel has remarked on the state of your health. On the first occasion when sickness lays you low — if the place is within an easy railway fare of my residence at the time — you will find me at your bedside with a choice of tracts. (
With sudden spitefulness.
) And may those tracts sound like a blast of trumpets in your obdurate ears!

Rachel
(
interfering
). Come, come! there is a time for everything. It’s supper-time now. Drusilla, take off your travelling-wraps, and be comfortable after your journey.

Miss Clack.
My room is upstairs, Rachel, is it not?

Rachel.
Nonsense! You needn’t go all the way upstairs to take off your hat and cloak. Come into my room here.

Miss Clack.
Thank you, dearest. Always so thoughtful in temporal matters! Well, well; the higher thoughtfulness will follow. (
She puts her hand to her head.
) My poor head!

Rachel.
Have you still got the headache? Try my smelling-bottle.

Miss Clack.
Thank you, dear. Oh, how nice! What might be the value of this object of luxury, Rachel?

Rachel
(
impatiently
). Five shillings — ten shillings. How should I know?

Miss Clack
(
amazed
). Ten shillings! (
She mentally calculates on her fingers.
) Forty basins of charitable soup — twelve basketfuls of missionary buns — all locked up in this futile little thing! (
She shows it to
GODFREY
with a groan.
) Oh, Mr. Godfrey!

Godfrey.
Oh, Miss Clack!

Miss Clack.
Take it back, Rachel. Your smelling-bottle saddens me. After you, dear — after you.

Franklin.
Don’t be long, Rachel. (RACHEL
and
MISS CLACK
go out on the left.
)

Godfrey.
You don’t like being left, Franklin, in such poor company as I am?

Franklin.
Nonsense, Godfrey! How are you getting on with your ladies and their charities — maternal societies for doctoring poor women; Magdalen societies for rescuing poor women; strong-minded societies for putting poor women into poor men’s places, and leaving the men to shift for themselves — are they all flourishing under your sympathetic superintendence?

Godfrey
(
aside
). He is as insolent as ever! (
to
FRANKLIN.) Thank you for your kind inquiries, Franklin. You speak flippantly, but I daresay you mean well. And how are you prospering?

Franklin.
Prospering! I don’t know which way to turn next for want of money. I say, Godfrey! Is your father still head partner at the bank in the neighbouring town here?

Godfrey.
Certainly! I shall go to Frizinghall tomorrow to see my father.

Franklin.
Ah, yes! Frizinghall — that’s the name of the town. I have been so long away I had almost forgotten it. Do me a service, Godfrey — ask your father to lend me two hundred pounds.

Godfrey.
Oh, Franklin!

Franklin.
Nobody else will lend me a farthing. My credit is at an end — even with old Luker himself.

Godfrey
(
innocently
). Who is Mr. Luker?

Franklin.
Enchanting innocence! Did you really never hear of the famous London money-lender — Luker, of Clement’s Inn? (GODFREY
shakes his head.
) Such is fame! Look here, Godfrey, if I write to your father, will you take the letter?

Godfrey.
Quite useless, Franklin. I once asked my dear father for a loan of five pounds. He buttoned up his pockets, and he said: “Do as I did at your age — go and earn it!”

Franklin.
I should have answered that. I should have said: “Do as
I
do at my age — come and spend it!” Forgive me for boring you with my affairs. I daresay you’re worried enough about money matters yourself.

Godfrey
(
surprised
). What do you mean?

Franklin.
As treasurer to those charitable societies of yours, do you never have hard work of it to make both ends meet?

Godfrey
(
relieved
). Ah! yes, yes! Quite true, Franklin — quite true! (RACHEL
appears at the door on the left; neither
FRANKLIN
nor
GODFREY
observes her.
)

Franklin
(
continuing
). Speaking generally, my debts don’t trouble me the least in the world. But there’s one of my creditors who won’t be pacified — a little hunchbacked Frenchman who keeps a restaurant in Paris. (
He goes on more and more carelessly — laughing as he speaks.
) His wife is in bed, and his child has got the whooping-cough, and little crook-back wants his money. I only borrowed two hundred pounds of him, and he writes furious letters to me, and calls me a thief!

Rachel
(
advancing
). Godfrey!

Franklin
(
speaking aside
). She has heard me!

Godfrey
(
approaching her
). Yes, dear Rachel?

Rachel.
Leave me with Franklin for five minutes. (FRANKLIN
draws back, and looks guiltily at
RACHEL.)

Godfrey
(
aside
). In five minutes he may make her an offer! I’ll put an obstacle in his way. (
He whispers to
RACHEL.) One word in private, dear Rachel. Beware of Franklin if he tries to borrow money of you. His debts have utterly degraded him. (
He goes out by the hall door.
)

Rachel
(
to
FRANKLIN
very earnestly
). Franklin, I heard what you said to Godfrey a moment since. Have you no principle? Have you no feeling?

Franklin.
My dear Rachel — !

Rachel.
A poor struggling man who has trusted you — and who finds in the hour of his distress that your promise to pay him back his money is a mockery and a delusion! And you speak of it lightly! In your place, I would have sold the watch out of my pocket, and the rings off my fingers, rather than be dishonoured as you are dishonoured now.

Franklin.
Strong language, Rachel!

Rachel.
I speak strongly, because I feel strongly. I have a true interest in you — I hope great things from you in the future. If you begin with this shocking carelessness about obligations which you have bound yourself to respect, how will you end? Who can say to what degradation you may not descend the next time you want money, and the next, and the next?

Franklin.
May I say a word in my own defence?

Rachel.
No. You may occupy your time in doing better than that. This poor man with his sick wife and child — I can’t bear to think of it! Wait, Franklin. I have something more to say to you. Wait! (
She goes to the writing-table and writes a cheque.
FRANKLIN
speaks to himself.
)

Franklin
(
aside
). She feels a “true interest in me!” Is that interest strong enough to stand my friend, if I own that I love her — if I ask her to be my wife? She is prettier than ever; and I am fonder of her than ever; and she refused Godfrey the last time he asked her. I think I’ll risk it!