The Whiteoak Brothers. Mazo de la Roche

The Whiteoak Brothers - Mazo de la Roche


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      Eden’s heart quickened its beat. “How much, Gran?”

      She frowned, then exclaimed — “Fifty thousand. I’ll invest fifty thousand dollars.”

      He drew back in horror. “Oh, you can’t do that, Granny. It’s too much.”

      She grinned. “I never do things by halves.”

      Eden felt panic. He wished he had not spoken. He folded the prospectus. “This is very tiring for you, Granny,” he said. “Better put it out of your mind.”

      “Now you talk like your Uncle Ernest. This doesn’t tire me. Does me good.”

      “But you mustn’t invest so much.”

      “Who says must and mustn’t to me?”

      She was taking things out of his hands — and she going on for a hundred!

      He said — “Supposing you should lose the money? What then?”

      She arched her neck and her voice came harsh and strong. “I never lose. If the gold is there — it’s there. Is it there?”

      At the mention of gold Boney reiterated — “Pieces of eight — pieces of eight!” Then added in Hidustani — “Kutni — Kutni — Paji — Shaitan ka khatla!”

      Eden said — “Yes. The gold is there all right. It’s a wonderful investment but I do advise you to go slowly at the first. My broker would advise that.”

      “A hundred dollars then.”

      There was a terrible decline. Eden hesitated, not knowing what to say.

      She perceived this and said, with sudden sweetness — “You tell me then.”

      He could not stop himself. He heard himself saying — “What about ten thousand?”

      “Just the right amount,” she agreed, and he felt that she could no longer differentiate between one sum of money and another, though she loved all gain. What troubled him still more was, now that she had agreed to invest in the mine, how to put through the transaction. He knew nothing of business, and dared not enquire of his uncles or Renny.

      Over and over he made her promise to divulge nothing of the scheme to the family. She was becoming very tired and docilely nodded her head, on which the lace of her cap trembled, in agreement. He himself felt tired and wiped his moist brow with his hand when he had closed the door behind him. He was torn between exhilaration and anxiety. Then the image of Mr. Kronk rose before him. There was the man who would know just what to do. He would go to see him that very day.

      He did go to the city, taking the opportunity of driving in with Renny. As he sat beside his elder, bumping over the rough bits in the old car, his eyes slid every now and again toward that hard profile he knew so well. Certainly it was an arresting profile — the nose handsome, with its proud nostrils so like his grandmother’s. Now the mouth and eyes expressed contemptuous concentration, for he disliked motoring and distrusted the car, having rather the attitude toward it of one of his own horses.

      In the city he asked — “Where shall I drop you?”

      Eden hesitated, then said — “Oh, anywhere.”

      “Anywhere? But where do you want to go?”

      “Which way are you going? Anywhere will suit me.”

      Renny gave him a quick look. “What did you come in for then? Just to have a look round?”

      “Well, actually I came in to see another student about some books.”

      “Do you mean he’s going to lend you books? I hope he is, for your books cost like the devil.”

      “He might, if he has what I want. He lives in the Norfolk Apartments.”

      “Good. I can easily drop you there. You’d better go home by train.”

      It was in the Norfolk Apartments that the Kronks lived. Eden found the husband away and the wife at home. Eden was conscious of how glad she was to see him. She used more lipstick than was usual in those days and he saw a touch of eyeshadow beneath her clear light eyes. She was as tall as he, so that their eyes met on a level. She wore one of the long-waisted short-skirted dresses of the time and when they sat down and she crossed her legs Eden noticed how shapely they were. Her silk stockings were more sheer and lighter in colour than any he had seen. She saw the glance he gave them and exclaimed:

      “Since you were last here I’ve been down to New York. I did some shopping. I hope you don’t think these too sheer.” She stretched out her legs side by side, close together, the high-heeled shoes looking ridiculously small for her height.

      “I think they’re very pretty,” Eden said rather nervously, for she was a type new to him. Then he added — “I suppose New York is wonderful. I’ve never been”

      “Ah, wonderful! I did something else besides shop. Haven’t you noticed?”

      He looked her over but could discover nothing different about her.

      He murmured — “You always look so well-dressed.”

      “It’s not clothes. Look!” She bent her head and he saw that her hair was cut short.

      “You’ve had your hair bobbed,” he exclaimed.

      “Not bobbed, it’s shingled. Do tell me you like it. My husband hates it. He liked my hair but it was such a nuisance.”

      “I think this looks very nice.”

      She straightened herself and gave him that confidential smile of hers. “I’m so glad,” she said. “I couldn’t have borne your not liking it.”

      “But I do. I like it awfully well.” His colour rose. He did not quite know what she expected of him and he had but one desire and that was to talk business.

      With sudden matter-of-factness she said — “I’m going to get you a drink.” She went into the dining room, which was separated by only an archway from the living room, and began to busy herself at the sideboard. He stood, rather shyly, watching her from this distance. But while they were drinking their Scotch, he began:

      “I suppose Mr. Kronk was in New York on business.”

      She gave a little chuckle. “He certainly was. Nothing but. My, how those New Yorkers gobbled up the Indigo Lake shares.” She finished her drink with an audible smack of the lips.

      Compared to this his news seemed insignificant. He said — “My grandmother has money she’d like to invest but….”

      Instantly Mrs. Kronk gave him the full attention of her clear light eyes. “Your grandmother? Aren’t you lucky to have so many affluent relations!”

      He did not quite like this. He said, a little stiffly — “The difficulty is that she doesn’t know, nor do I, how to go about selling government bonds and reinvesting. You see, she can’t go to her bank. She’s rather old.”

      “About eighty or more?”

      “More. Considerably.”

      “Couldn’t those uncles of yours arrange it for her?”

      “She’d rather they didn’t know. They’d be all for caution where she’s concerned.”

      “Well, then, all you need is a power of attorney. I have the forms right here. Just get her to sign them.”

      It was all so simple. When Eden left the apartment house, with the forms in his pocket, his exhilaration was such that he had walked some distance before he noticed rain coming down. By the time had had boarded a street car big glittering drops were bouncing on the pavement and the bottoms of his trousers were soaked. On the way to the railway station the street lights came on and by their light he saw at the corner the ten-year-old family car and at the wheel his brother. There was no time in which to buy


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