Compose yourself, Walter; we will return to this painful subject later in the day.
Enter JOEY.
Joey (to WILDING). A gentleman has stopped at the door, sir, in a cab. He wishes to see you.
Wilding. Who is he?
Joey. A stranger, sir. Here is his card, and a letter.
(JOEY withdraws and waits at the back.)
Wilding. (to VENDALE). See who it is! I can’t receive anybody.
(Hands VENDALE the card and letter.)
Vendale. (starting as he reads the card). “Mr. Obenreizer!”
Bintrey. (looking over VENDALE’S shoulder at the card.) From Switzerland.
Wilding. Switzerland! Whoever he is, I’ll see him.
Bintrey. You have changed your mind rather suddenly.
Wilding. The one trace of the lost man is in Switzerland. Even this stranger may help us.
Vendale. (after reading the letter). Mr. Obenreizer is not a stranger. He was an old acquaintance of mine, when I was travelling abroad. This letter is from our correspondents—Defresnier and Company, the wine-merchants of Neuchâtel. They introduce Mr. Obenreizer as Agent for their house, and as now intending to establish himself in England. And they recommend him warmly to the friendly consideration of Wilding and Company.
Wilding. What sort of a man is he? How is it you never mentioned him before?
Bintrey. (aside). Mr. Vendale looks confused. That’s a bad sign to begin with!
Vendale. (to WILDING). I had my reasons, Walter. When Mr. Obenreizer and I first met abroad there was somebody with him. In plain English, there was a young lady——
Wilding. His daughter?
Vendale. He is no older than you and I.
Wilding. No older than I am!
Vendale. No older. The young lady was his ward; and——
Bintrey. And you fell in love with her? Excuse my legal habit of helping an unwilling witness.
Vendale. I’m not an unwilling witness in that part of the matter. I have been in love with her ever since—I am in love with her now—I shall be in love with her to the end of my life. Is that sufficiently explicit, Mr. Bintrey?
Bintrey. I can’t say, Mr. Vendale. I’m not professionally acquainted with the subject.
Wilding. I don’t see what tied your tongue about all this, George—so far.
Vendale. The truth is, I was very young at the time, and very anxious to make an impression on the young lady. I drifted into some foolish boasting about myself and my family position. I have had sense enough to be ashamed of it since, and Mr. Obenreizer’s arrival makes me feel doubly ashamed of it now.
Wilding. Do you object to see him?
Vendale. Certainly not! We are to be connected with him in business. Let us get the meeting over; and the sooner the better.
Wilding. (to JOEY). Ask Mr. Obenreizer to step this way.
(JOEY opens the door of the house, and OBENREIZER appears. JOEY goes out.)
Obenreizer. (advancing). Mr. Walter Wilding?
Wilding. My name is Wilding, sir. You come excellently introduced. I am glad to see you. (Presenting BINTREY.) My friend, and legal adviser—Mr. Bintrey.
Obenreizer. Charmed to make Mr. Bintrey’s acquaintance.
Bintrey. (aside). Too civil by half! I don’t like him.
Obenreizer. (noticing VENDALE). Ha! my fellow-traveller, Mr. Vendale! How do you do? So glad! (Takes VENDALE lightly by each elbow, by way of embrace.)
Vendale. You hardly expected to meet me again here, as a partner in the firm?
Obenreizer. On the contrary! I heard at Neuchâtel you had become a member of the firm. Besides, what did I tell you when we were on the mountains? We call them vast—but the world is so little! So little is the world that one cannot keep away from persons. Does one wish to keep away from you? Good Heavens, no! And you are quite well? So glad! (Taking VENDALE by the elbows again.)
Bintrey. (aside). He has rather a tigerish way of being glad!
Wilding. (overhearing BINTREY). What?
Bintrey. Charmed with Mr. Obenreizer’s sentiments—that’s all!
Obenreizer. (continuing to VENDALE). And you have had the condescension to come into trade? You, descended from so fine a family! A dealer in wines! Stop, though! Wine? Is it trade in England, or profession? Not a fine art?
Vendale. Mr. Obenreizer, when we last met, I had only come of age—I was young and foolish; and I had just inherited the fortune left to me after my parents’ death. I have grown a year or two older, and I have got rid of my boy’s vanity, since that time.
Obenreizer. Your vanity? Bah! You tax yourself too heavily—you tax yourself as if it was your Government taxing you! My dear sir, I like your condescension. It ennobles trade! The misfortune of trade, is its vulgarity. Any low people—I, for example, a poor peasant—may take to it, and climb by it. Yes, Mr. Wilding! Yes, Mr. Bintrey! I possess your English virtue of frankness. I own myself a man of low origin—bah! for all I know, a man of no origin at all!
Wilding. (to BINTREY). Do you hear that?
Bintrey. (to WILDING). I’m deaf, on principle, to all humbug!
Vendale. May I ask after your ward! Is Mademoiselle Marguerite well?
Obenreizer. (suddenly altering in manner, and speaking feelingly and seriously). Mademoiselle Marguerite is, I am happy to say, sir, quite well!
Bintrey. You are rather young, Mr. Obenreizer, to be a lady’s guardian.
Obenreizer. (as before). Young in years, Mr. Bintrey; old in discretion and experience. The father of this young lady—whom it is the honour and happiness of my life to protect—was, by origin, a peasant like myself. He had watched me from my childhood—he had seen me win my way honestly, inch by inch, higher in the world, as he had won his. He died, a lonely man who had outlived all the friends of his own time—he died, knowing that he could trust me. I received his priceless charge—the charge of his child. At my request, her little fortune was secured to her, independently of me, when she comes of age. I only accepted the small yearly sum which her father left to me, on that understanding. I shall live and die true to my sacred trust! (Resuming his former manner.) Mr. Wilding! you are asked to put confidence in me in matters of trade. I am not sure of my origin—I am not even sure if my parents were my parents after all. But one thing I know! I must be open as the day; I must be true as steel—or my friend’s daughter would never have been trusted to these peasant’s hands!
Wilding. (aside to BINTREY). He is about my age—he is not sure of his origin; he is not sure of his parents. You hear him again?
Bintrey. (to WILDING). No, I don’t hear him again!
Vendale. (to OBENREIZER). Is Mademoiselle Marguerite in Switzerland?
Obenreizer.