Situated as he was, of course, he must run some risk.And then, too, he had spoken of himself with a grain of truth when he had told the Duchess that he was not marrying for money.Ferdinand Lopez was not an honest man or a good man.He was a self-seeking, intriguing adventurer, who did not know honesty from dishonesty when he saw them together.But he had at any rate this good about him, that he did love the girl whom he was about to marry.He was willing to cheat all the world,--so that he might succeed, and make a fortune, and become a big and rich man;but he did not wish to cheat her.It was his ambition to carry her up with him, and he thought how he might best teach her to assist him in doing so,--how he might win her to help him in his cheating, especially in regard to her own father.For to himself, to his own thinking, that which we call cheating was not dishonesty.To this thinking there was something bold, grand, picturesque, and almost beautiful in the battle which such a one as himself must wage with the world before he could make his way up in it.He would not pick a pocket or turn a false card, or, as he thought, forge a name.That which he did, and desired to do, took with the name of speculation.When he persuaded poor Sexty Parker to hazard his all, knowing well that he induced the unfortunate man to believe what was false, and to trust what was utterly untrustworthy, he did not himself think that he was going beyond the limits of fair enterprise.Now, in his marriage, he had in truth joined himself to real wealth.Could he only command at once that which he thought ought to be his wife's share of the lawyer's money, he did not doubt but that he could make a rapid fortune.It would not do for him to seem to be desirous of money a day before the time;--but, when the time should come, would not his wife help him in his great career?
But before she could do so she must be made to understand something of the nature of his career, and of the need of such aid.
Of course there arose the question where they should live.But he was ready with an immediate answer to this question.He had been to look at a flat,--a set of rooms,--in the Belgrave Mansions, in Pimlico, or Belgravia you ought more probably to call it.He proposed to take them furnished till they could look about at their leisure and get a house that should suit them.
Would she like a flat? She would have liked a cellar with him, and so she told him.Then they went to look at the flat, and old Mr Wharton condescended to go with them.Though his heart was not in the business, still he thought he was bound to look after his daughter's comfort.'They are very handsome rooms,' said Mr Wharton, looking round upon the rather gorgeous furniture.
'Oh, Ferdinand, are they too grand?'
'Perhaps they are a little more than we quite want just at present,' he said.'But I'll tell you sir, just how it happened.
A man I know wanted to let them for one year, just as they are, and offered them to me for 450 pounds,--if I could pay the money in advance, at the moment.And so I paid it.'
'You have taken them then?' said Mr Wharton.
'Is it all settled?' said Emily, almost with disappointment.
'I have paid the money, and I have so far taken them.But it is by no means settled.You have only to say you don't like them, and you shall never be asked to put your foot in them again.'
'But I do like them,' she whispered to him.
'The truth is, sir, that there is no slightest difficulty in parting with them.So that when the chance came in my way Ithought it best to secure the thing.It had all to be done, so to say, in an hour.My friend,--as far as he was a friend, for Idon't know much about him,--wanted the money and wanted to be off.So here they are, and Emily can do as she likes.' Of course the rooms were regarded from that moment as the home for the next twelve months of Mr and Mrs Ferdinand Lopez.
And then they were married.The marriage was by no means a gay affair, the chief management of it falling into the hands of Mrs **** Roby.Mrs **** indeed provided not only the breakfast,--or saw rather that it was provided for, for of course Mr Wharton paid the bill,--but the four bridesmaids also, and all the company.They were married in the church in Vere Street, then went back to the house in Manchester Square, and within a couple of hours were on their road to Dover.Through it all not a word was said about money.At the last moment,--when he was free from fear as any questions about his own affairs,--Lopez had hoped that the old man would say something.'You will find so many thousand pounds at your banker's,'--or, 'You may look to me for so many hundreds a year.' But there was not a word.The girl had come to him without the assurance of a single shilling.
In his great endeavour to get her he had been successful.As he thought of this in the carriage, he pressed his arm close round her waist.If the worst were to come to the worst, he would fight the world for her.But if this old man should be stubborn, close-fisted, and absolutely resolved to bestow all his money upon his son because of the marriage,--ah!--how should he be able to bear such a wrong as that?
Half-a-dozen times during that journey to Dover, he resolved to think nothing further about it, at any rate for a fortnight; and yet, before he reached Dover, he had said a word to her.'Iwonder what your father means to do about money? He never told you?'
'Does it matter, dear?'
'Not in the least.But of course I have to talk about everything to you;--and it is odd.'
