MR. COWDRICK’S RETURN.—MR. WEEMS TAKES A NEW VIEW OF HIS POSITION.—JUSTICE. M
R. COWDRICK again sat in his easy-chair, in his library, before the sham fire, and with him sat his wife and daughter. They were talking of the trial of Mr. Cowdrick, which was to begin on the morrow.
“It is very disagreeable, of course,” said Mr. Cowdrick; “but in this life we have to take the bitter with the sweet.”
“But, oh, papa,” said Leonie, “how dreadful it will be if the verdict goes against you. Do you think they would actually send a man of your position to a horrid prison?”
“Leonie!” exclaimed Mrs. Cowdrick, “I am surprised at your speaking of such things. Pray don’t do it again. My nerves will not stand it.”
“You need not be alarmed, my dear child,” said Mr. Cowdrick, smiling. “My friends have arranged things comfortably for me with the prosecuting attorney,194 and the other authorities. I had an offer made to me to have the jury packed in my interest, but I was assured that it was unnecessary, and, besides, I felt that it would perhaps be wrong for me to descend to corruption.”
“It is a terrible experience at the best,” said Mrs. Cowdrick; “but there is some satisfaction in the reflection that we are not reduced to absolute poverty.”
“That is my greatest consolation,” rejoined Mr. Cowdrick. “Pinyard tells me that I may count on saving at least two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from the wreck; invested in good securities, too.”
“Then we can go to a watering-place, next summer, as usual?” asked Leonie.
“Yes, dear.”
“And can we keep our carriage and our servants, and everything, just as before?”
“Certainly; there will be no difference.”
Leonie reflected for a moment, and then sighed heavily.
“And I think very likely,” said Mr. Cowdrick, “that my poor little girl can have her lover back again, if she wants him, too.”
“Papa, what do you mean?” asked Leonie.
“Why, I commissioned a man named Gunn, in whom I have some confidence, to visit Weems, and to sound him, to ascertain how he felt with regard to the result of your suit.”
195 “Well?”
“Gunn reports to me that Weems feels repentant; says he always loved you, and would give anything to have the past recalled.”
Here Mr. Cowdrick, having constructed a sturdy falsehood, winked at his wife; and Leonie said:
“Well, papa, I don’t know whether I am quite willing to forgive him, but I confess that I care more for Julius than for any other person.”
“We shall see what can be done,” remarked Mr. Cowdrick. “And now you must excuse me. I have to go to meet my counsel to prepare for the trial;” and Mr. Cowdrick withdrew.
The interview between Mr. Weems and Mr. Benjamin P. Gunn, to which Mr. Cowdrick alluded, was conducted upon a rather different basis from that indicated by the banker in his conversation with Leonie.
Mr. Gunn, upon his entrance to the studio of the artist, began by expressing his regret at the issue of the breach of promise suit.
“Yes, confound it,” said Mr. Weems; “it is hard, isn’t it? To think that that old faded flower of a girl should be smart enough to get the better of me in such a manner!”
“The damages are heavy too,” said Gunn, thoughtfully; “and I understand that she is firmly resolved to compel you to pay the money.”
“That is the worst of it! The mortification was196 bad enough; but five thousand dollars to pay on top of that! Why, it’s simply awful.”
“The amount would cover the price of a good many pictures, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes; and just now the market is so overloaded with old masters, that they hardly fetch the value of the canvas they are painted on. A house-painter makes more money than an artist.”
“It must be a desire for revenge that induces the lady to be so eager for the money. She is not poor.”
“I guess she is. Old Cowdrick will have to give up everything, I suppose.”
Mr. Gunn smiled, and looked wise. Then he said, Mr. Weems, I’ll let you into a secret if you will keep it to yourself.”
“I will, certainly.”
“Well, sir, I know,—I don’t merely think,—I know that Cowdrick is going to come out of this thing with at least a quarter of a million. He’ll be just as comfortable as ever.”
“That is nearly incredible.”
“It is the truth, at any rate; and I can prove it.”
“But how about his crimes? He is tolerably certain to go to prison.”
“What, Cowdrick? Cowdrick go to prison? Not a bit of it! He is too respectable. That has all been fixed in advance, unless I am misinformed.”
Mr. Weems reflected in silence for a few moments. Then Mr. Gunn, rising to go, said,—
197 “It is none of my business, sir, of course; I only came in to give you the facts because I felt friendly to you. But if I had my choice between paying five thousand dollars and compromising with the plaintiff, I know very well what I would do, particularly if the plaintiff would rather have the man than the money. Good morning, Mr. Weems;” and Mr. Gunn withdrew.
“A quarter of a million!” said Mr. Weems to himself, as he sat alone, meditating upon the situation. “What a fool I was. I might have known that old Cowdrick would take care of himself and soon get upon his legs again. I believe that man Gunn was sent here to feel the way for a reconciliation, and I have half a notion to attempt one. I’ll make a movement toward it, anyhow. I’ll write a letter to Cowdrick, and if he gets out of the clutches of the law I will send it to him, and see if we can’t make up the quarrel.”
Then Mr. Weems went to his desk and penned the following epistle:—
“Henry P. Cowdrick, Esq.
“Dear Sir,—I write to you with much diffidence and with deep apprehension as to the result, concerning a matter in which my happiness is seriously involved. I need not rehearse the facts concerning my unfortunate differences with Leonie; but I wish to say that I shal............