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Leila's Books
THE MASTER CRAFTSMAN - two volumes in one
THE MASTER CRAFTSMAN - two volumes in one
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an excerpt from the beginning of:
Volume I.
CHAPTER I. - "MARRY MONEY."
"YES, Sir George," said the lawyer, looking mighty serious. "We have at length ascertained how you stand. Your father conducted—misconducted—his affairs without consulting us—and we knew nothing of what was going on—nothing at all."
I inclined my head. I had already heard certain things which had led me to expect something unpleasant. Now I was to learn the whole truth.
My father, the second Baronet, and son of the well-known judge and lawyer, had died five weeks or so before this interview. He died at the age of fifty-two, having led a perfectly quiet and apparently harmless life. Harmless! You shall see. I was twenty-five, and after the usual run of Eton and Cambridge, I had my chambers in Piccadilly, and my club, and led the life customary among young men of fortune. I knew nothing, and learned nothing, and could do nothing, except play with a lathe. I was not bookish, or artistic, or scientific, or musical, or literary, or anything. Therefore the intelligence that I was about to receive was even more delightful than it would have been to a man who could do things, write things, and sell things.
"You know already," the lawyer continued, "that your father met with serious losses on the Stock Exchange?"
"I know so much, certainly."
"I have here everything ready for you. Before you look at it, Sir George, be prepared for a very— a most painful surprise."
"Tell me all—at once."
"Then, Sir George—it is a most distressing communication to make—but you are young, which is the only consolation — young and strong — and, I doubt not, a philosopher "
"I am especially and above all things a philosopher. But pray get on."
"Your grandfather, with his magnificent, his unequalled practice, and the habits of prudence which guided all his investments, rolled up what we call, in the profession, a colossal fortune—not colossal in the City sense, but in our sense. It was over a quarter of a million, which your father, then forty years of age, inherited. When he died, five weeks ago, at the age of fifty-two, he had managed by those speculations of his to get through the whole of it— the whole of it—with his country house and his town house. Ah! Sir George, why-—why—why did not the Judge entail the whole? It maddens me only to think of it! He has lost all—everything." The lawyer rubbed it in with resolution. "You have no longer any fortune left; you have no house; my poor young friend, you have nothing but a few scraps and crumbs left of that splendid fortune that seemed to be yours two months ago."
"Lost the whole of the fortune? In ten years? He could not."
"Everything is possible on the Stock Exchange. He has lost it all."
"You mean that I have nothing. Say it again." "Your father, in ten years, lost the whole of his fortune. You have got left, practically, nothing."
"Thank you. I have got nothing. I shall realise it presently. It makes one feel chilly. I have got nothing." I put my fingers in my waistcoat pocket. "Here are some coins. They are mine, I suppose. There are two or three hundred pounds standing to my account at the Bank; are they mine, too?"
"Yes. And to speak of crumbs and scraps, I think I may save a little something for you out of the wreck. But it will be a mere trifle. I estimate it at the most as three thousand pounds."
"Oh! I have three thousand pounds. You are quite sure you have done your very worst?"
"I can do nothing worse than this for you."
I got up and stood over the empty fireplace. "I suppose," I said slowly, "that it is very bad. I am not a person of imagination, you know, and I cannot feel, all at once, how bad it is. A thing like this cannot be appreciated all at once. It takes time—it has to get into the system."
"There is, at all events, something — a solid something, though small," said the lawyer, watching me with some curiosity to see how I took it.
"Yes, a kind of nugget. It promises to become exciting. I shall become the penniless adventurer of fiction. Should I, do you think, begin to practise billiards? Or does écarté offer a better opening?"
"You must consider, Sir George, when you come to take this business seriously, that many a man with less than that has got on in the world, and made a name for himself, and even amassed a fortune. Your grandfather certainly began with less."
"The men who get on in the world are the men who start with two pence. Reduce me to two pence, with an introduction to the Lord Mayor, and no doubt I shall get on."
Volume I.
CHAPTER I. - "MARRY MONEY."
"YES, Sir George," said the lawyer, looking mighty serious. "We have at length ascertained how you stand. Your father conducted—misconducted—his affairs without consulting us—and we knew nothing of what was going on—nothing at all."
I inclined my head. I had already heard certain things which had led me to expect something unpleasant. Now I was to learn the whole truth.
My father, the second Baronet, and son of the well-known judge and lawyer, had died five weeks or so before this interview. He died at the age of fifty-two, having led a perfectly quiet and apparently harmless life. Harmless! You shall see. I was twenty-five, and after the usual run of Eton and Cambridge, I had my chambers in Piccadilly, and my club, and led the life customary among young men of fortune. I knew nothing, and learned nothing, and could do nothing, except play with a lathe. I was not bookish, or artistic, or scientific, or musical, or literary, or anything. Therefore the intelligence that I was about to receive was even more delightful than it would have been to a man who could do things, write things, and sell things.
"You know already," the lawyer continued, "that your father met with serious losses on the Stock Exchange?"
"I know so much, certainly."
"I have here everything ready for you. Before you look at it, Sir George, be prepared for a very— a most painful surprise."
"Tell me all—at once."
"Then, Sir George—it is a most distressing communication to make—but you are young, which is the only consolation — young and strong — and, I doubt not, a philosopher "
"I am especially and above all things a philosopher. But pray get on."
"Your grandfather, with his magnificent, his unequalled practice, and the habits of prudence which guided all his investments, rolled up what we call, in the profession, a colossal fortune—not colossal in the City sense, but in our sense. It was over a quarter of a million, which your father, then forty years of age, inherited. When he died, five weeks ago, at the age of fifty-two, he had managed by those speculations of his to get through the whole of it— the whole of it—with his country house and his town house. Ah! Sir George, why-—why—why did not the Judge entail the whole? It maddens me only to think of it! He has lost all—everything." The lawyer rubbed it in with resolution. "You have no longer any fortune left; you have no house; my poor young friend, you have nothing but a few scraps and crumbs left of that splendid fortune that seemed to be yours two months ago."
"Lost the whole of the fortune? In ten years? He could not."
"Everything is possible on the Stock Exchange. He has lost it all."
"You mean that I have nothing. Say it again." "Your father, in ten years, lost the whole of his fortune. You have got left, practically, nothing."
"Thank you. I have got nothing. I shall realise it presently. It makes one feel chilly. I have got nothing." I put my fingers in my waistcoat pocket. "Here are some coins. They are mine, I suppose. There are two or three hundred pounds standing to my account at the Bank; are they mine, too?"
"Yes. And to speak of crumbs and scraps, I think I may save a little something for you out of the wreck. But it will be a mere trifle. I estimate it at the most as three thousand pounds."
"Oh! I have three thousand pounds. You are quite sure you have done your very worst?"
"I can do nothing worse than this for you."
I got up and stood over the empty fireplace. "I suppose," I said slowly, "that it is very bad. I am not a person of imagination, you know, and I cannot feel, all at once, how bad it is. A thing like this cannot be appreciated all at once. It takes time—it has to get into the system."
"There is, at all events, something — a solid something, though small," said the lawyer, watching me with some curiosity to see how I took it.
"Yes, a kind of nugget. It promises to become exciting. I shall become the penniless adventurer of fiction. Should I, do you think, begin to practise billiards? Or does écarté offer a better opening?"
"You must consider, Sir George, when you come to take this business seriously, that many a man with less than that has got on in the world, and made a name for himself, and even amassed a fortune. Your grandfather certainly began with less."
"The men who get on in the world are the men who start with two pence. Reduce me to two pence, with an introduction to the Lord Mayor, and no doubt I shall get on."
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