I It is true that Rachel held Councillor Thomas Batchgrew in hatred², that she had never pardoned him for the insult which he had put upon her in the Imperial Cinema de Luxe; and that, indeed, she could never pardon him for simply being Thomas Batchgrew. Nevertheless, there was that evening in her heart a little softening³ towards him. The fact was that the councillor had been flattering her. She would have denied warmly that she was susceptible⁴ to flattery; even if authoritatively⁵ informed that no human being whatever is unsusceptible to flattery, she would still have protested that she at any rate was, for, like numerous young and inexperienced women, she had persuaded herself that she was the one exception to various otherwise universal rules.
 
It remained that Thomas Batchgrew had been flattering her. On arrival he had greeted her with that tinge⁶ of deference⁷ which from an old man never fails to thrill a girl. Rachel's pride as a young married woman was tigerishly alert and hungry that evening. Thomas Batchgrew, little by little, tamed and fed it very judiciously⁸ at intervals¹⁰, until at length it seemed to purr content around him like a cat. The phenomenon was remarkable¹¹, and the more so in that Rachel was convinced that, whereas she was as critical and inimical as ever, old Batchgrew had slightly improved. He behaved "heartily," and everybody appreciates such behaviour in the Five Towns. He was by nature far too insensitive to notice that the married lovers were treating each other with that finished courtesy which is the symptom of a tiff¹² or of a misunderstanding. And the married lovers, noticing that he noticed nothing, were soon encouraged to make peace; and by means of certain tones and gestures peace was declared in the very presence of the unperceiving old brute¹⁵, which was peculiarly delightful¹⁷ to the contracting parties.
 
Rachel had less difficulty with the supper than she feared, whereby also her good-humour was fostered. With half a cold leg of mutton, some cheeses, and the magnificent fancy remains¹⁹ of an At Home tea, arrayed with the d'oyleys and embroidered²⁰ cloths which brides always richly receive in the Five Towns, a most handsome and impressive supper can be concocted²¹. Rachel was astonished at the splendour of her own table. Mr. Batchgrew treated this supper with unsurpassable tact²². The adjectives he applied²³ to it were short and emphatic²⁴ and spoken with a full mouth. He ate the supper; he kept on eating it; he passed his plate with alacrity²⁵; he refused naught²⁶. And as the meal neared its end he emitted those natural inarticulate noises from his throat which in Persia are a sign of high breeding. Useless for Rachel in her heart to call him a glutton—his attitude towards her supper was impeccable.
 
And now the solid part of the supper was over. One extremity²⁷ of the Chesterfield had been drawn²⁸ closer to the fire—an operation easily possible in its new advantageous²⁹ position—and Louis as master of the house had mended the fire after his own method, and Rachel sat upright (somewhat in the manner of Mrs. Maldon) in the arm-chair opposite Mr. Batchgrew, extended half-reclining on the Chesterfield. And Mrs. Tams entered with coffee.
 
"You'll have coffee, Mr. Batchgrew?" said the hostess.
 
"Nay³⁰, missis! I canna' sleep after it."
 
Secretly enchanted³¹ by the sweet word "missis," Rachel was nevertheless piqued³² by this refusal.
 
"Oh, but you must have some of Louise's coffee," said Louis, standing¹³ negligently³³ in front of the fire.
 
Already, though under a month old as a husband, Louis, following the eternal example of good husbands, had acquired the sure belief that his wife could achieve a higher degree of excellence³⁴ in certain affairs than any other wife in the world. He had selected coffee as Rachel's speciality.
 
"Louise's?" repeated old Batchgrew, puzzled, in his heavy voice.
 
Rachel flushed and smiled.
 
"He calls me Louise, you know," said she.
 
"Calls you Louise, does he?" Batchgrew muttered indifferently. But he took a cup of coffee, stirred part of its contents into the saucer and on to the Chesterfield, and began to sup the remainder with a prodigious³⁵ splutter of ingurgitation.
 
"And you must have a cigarette, too," Louis carelessly insisted. And Mr. Batchgrew agreed, though it was notorious that he only smoked once in a blue moon, because all tobacco was apt to be too strong for him.
 
"You can clear away," Rachel whispered, in the frigid³⁶ tones of one accustomed to command cohorts of servants in the luxury of historic castles.
 
"Yes, ma'am," Mrs. Tams whispered back nervously³⁷, proud as a major-domo, though with less than a major-domo's aplomb³⁸.
 
No pride, however, could have outclassed Rachel's. She had had a full day, and the evening was the crown of the day, because in the evening she was entertaining privately³⁹ for the first time. She was the one lady of the party; for these two men she represented woman, and they were her men. They depended on her for their physical well-being⁴⁰, and not in vain. She was the hostess; hers to command; hers the complex responsibility of the house. She had begun supper with painful timidity, but the timidity had now nearly vanished in the flush of social success. Critical as only a young wife can be, she was excellently well satisfied with Louis' performance in the role of host. She grew more than ever sure that there was only one Louis. See him manipulate a cigarette—it was the perfection of worldliness and agreeable, sensuous⁴¹ grace! See him hold a match to Mr. Batchgrew's cigarette!
 
Now Mr. Batchgrew smoked a cigarette clumsily. He seemed not to be able to decide whether a cigarette was something to smoke or something to eat. Mr. Batchgrew was more ungainly than ever, stretched in his characteristic attitude at an angle of forty-five degrees; his long whiskers were more absurdly than ever like two tails of a wire-haired white dog; his voice more coarsely than ever rolled about the room like undignified thunder. He was an old, old man, and a sinister⁴². It was precisely⁴³ his age that caressed⁴⁵ Rachel's pride. That any man so old should have come to her house for supper, should be treating her as an equal and with the directness of allusion⁴⁶ in conversation due to a married woman but improper⁴⁷ to a young girl—this was very sweet to Rachel. The subdued⁴⁸ stir made by Mrs. Tams in clearing the table was for Rachel a delicious background to the scene. The one flaw in it was her short skirt, which she had not had time to change. Louis had protested that it was entirely⁴⁹ in order, and indeed admirably coquettish, but Rachel would have preferred a long train of soft drapery disposed with art round the front of her chair.
 
"What you want here is electricity," said Thomas Batchgrew, gazing at the incandescent⁵⁰ gas; he could never miss a chance, and was never discouraged in the pursuit of his own advantage.
 
"You think so?" murmured Louis genially⁵².
 
"I could put ye in summat as 'u'd—;"
 
Rachel broke in a clear, calm decision—
 
"I don't think we shall have any electricity just yet."
 
The gesture of the economical wife in her was so final that old Batchgrew raised his eyebrows⁵³ with a grin at Louis, and Louis humorously drew down the corners of his mouth in response. It was as if they had both said, in awe—
 
"She has spoken!"
 
And Rachel, still further flattered and happy, was obliged to smile.
 
When Mrs. Tams had made her last tiptoe journey from the room and closed the door with due silent respect upon those great ones, the expression of Thomas Batchgrew's face changed somewhat; he looked round, as though for spies, and then drew a packet of papers from his pocket. And the expression of the other two faces changed also. For the true purpose of the executor's visit was now to be made formally manifest.
 
"Now about this statement of account—re Elizabeth Maldon, deceased," he growled⁵⁴ deeply.
 
"By the way," Louis interrupted him. "Is Julian back?"
 
"Julian back? Not as I know of," said Mr. Batchgrew aggressively. "Why?"
 
"We thought we saw him walking down Moorthorne Road to-night."
 
"Yes," said Rachel. "We both thought we saw him."
 
"Happen he is if he aeroplaned it!" said Batchgrew, and fumbled⁵⁵ nervously with the papers.
 
"It couldn't have been Julian," said Louis, confidently, to Rachel.
 
"No, it couldn't," said Rachel.
 
But neither conjured⁵⁶ away the secret uneasiness of the other. And as for Rachel, she knew that all through the evening she had, inexplicably⁵⁷, been disturbed by an apprehension⁵⁸ that Julian, after his long and strange sojourn⁵⁹ in South Africa, had returned to the district. Why the possible advent⁶⁰ of Julian should disconcert her, she thought she could not divine. Mr. Batchgrew's demeanour as he answered Louis' question mysteriously increased her apprehension. At one moment she said to herself, "Of course it wasn't Julian." At the next, "I'm quite sure I couldn't be mistaken." At the next, "And supposing it was Julian—what of it?"
 
 
II
When Batchgrew and Louis, sitting side by side on the Chesterfield, began to turn over documents and peer into columns, and carry the finger horizontally across sheets of paper in search of figures, Rachel tactfully withdrew, not from the room, but from the conversation, it being her proper role to pretend that she did not and could not understand the complicated details which they were discussing. She expected some rather dazzling revelation of men's trained methods at this "business interview" (as Louis had announced it), for her brother and father had never allowed her the slightest knowledge of their daily affairs. But she was disappointed. She thought that both the men were somewhat absurdly and self-consciously trying to be solemn and learned. Louis beyond doubt was self-conscious—acting¹⁸ as it were to impress his wife—and Batchgrew's efforts to be hearty⁶³ and youthful with the young roused her private ridicule⁶⁴.
 
Moreover, nothing fresh emerged from the interview. She had known all of it before from Louis. Batchgrew was merely repeating and resuming. And Louis was listening with politeness to recitals⁶⁷ with which he was quite familiar. In words almost identical with those already reported to her by Louis, Batchgrew insisted on the honesty and efficiency of the valuer in Hanbridge, a lifelong friend of his own, who had for a specially⁶⁸ low fee put a price on the house at Bycars and its contents for the purpose of a division between Louis and Julian. And now, as previously⁶⁹ with Louis, Rachel failed to comprehend how the valuer, if he had been favourably⁷⁰ disposed towards Louis, as Batchgrew averred⁷¹, could at the same time have behaved honestly towards Julian. But neither Louis nor Batchgrew seemed to realize the point. They both apparently⁷² flattered themselves with much simplicity⁷³ upon the partiality of the lifelong friend and valuer for Louis, without perceiving the logical deduction⁷⁴ that if he was partial he was a rascal⁷⁵. Further, Thomas Batchgrew "rubbed Rachel the wrong way" by subtly emphasizing his own marvellous abilities as a trustee and executor, and by assuring Louis repeatedly that all conceivable books of account, correspondence, and documents were open for his inspection⁷⁶ at any time. Batchgrew, in Rachel's opinion, might as well have said, "You naturally suspect me of being a knave⁷⁷, but I can prove to you that you are wrong."
 
Finally, they came to the grand total of Louis' inheritance, which Rachel had known by heart for several days past; yet Batchgrew rolled it out as a piece of tremendous news, and immediately afterwards hinted that the sum represented less than the true worth of Louis' inheritance, and that he, Batchgrew, as well as his lifelong friend the valuer, had been influenced by a partiality for Louis. For example, he had contrived⁷⁸ to put all the house property, except the house at Bycars, into Julian's share; which was extremely advantageous for Louis because the federation⁷⁹ of the Five Towns into one borough⁸⁰ had rendered property values the most capricious and least calculable of all worldly possessions.... And Louis tried to smile knowingly at the knowing trustee and executor with his amiable⁸¹ partiality for one legatee as against the other. Louis' share, beyond the Bycars house, was in the gilt-edged stock of limited companies which sold water and other necessaries of life to the public on their own terms.
 
Rachel left the pair for a moment, and returned from upstairs with a grey jacket of Louis' from which she had to unstitch the black crêpe armlet announcing to the world Louis' grief for his dead great-aunt; the period of mourning was long over, and it would not have been quite nice for Louis to continue announcing his grief.
 
As she came back into the room she heard the word "debentures⁸³," and that single word changed her mood instantly from bland⁸⁴ feminine toleration to porcupinish defensiveness⁸⁵. She did not, as a fact, know what debentures were. She could not for a fortune have defined the difference between a debenture⁸² and a share. She only knew that debentures were connected with "limited companies"—not waterworks companies, which she classed with the Bank of England—but just any limited companies, which were in her mind a bottomless pit for the savings⁸⁶ of the foolish. She had an idea that a debenture was, if anything, more fatal than a share. She was, of course, quite wrong, according to general principles; but, unfortunately, women, as all men sooner or later learn, have a disconcerting habit of being right in the wrong way for the wrong reasons. In a single moment, without justification⁸⁷, she had in her heart declared war on all debentures. And as soon as she gathered that Thomas Batchgrew was suggesting to Louis the exchange of waterworks stock for seven per cent. debentures in the United Midland Cinemas Corporation, Limited, she became more than ever convinced that her instinct about debentures was but too correct. She sat down primly⁸⁸, and detached the armlet, and removed all the bits of black cotton from the sleeve, and never raised her head nor offered a remark, but she was furious—furious to protect her husband against sharks and against himself.
 
The conduct and demeanour of Thomas Batchgrew were now explained. His visit, his flattery, his heartiness⁸⁹, his youthfulness, all had a motive⁹⁰. He had safeguarded Louis' interests under the will in order to rob him afterwards as a cinematograph speculator. The thing was as clear as daylight. And yet Louis did not seem to see it. Louis listened to Batchgrew's ingenious arguments with naïve interest and was obviously impressed. When Batchgrew called him "a business man as smart as they make 'em," and then proved that the money so invested would be as safe as in a stocking, Louis agreed with a great air of acumen⁹¹ that certainly it would. When Batchgrew pointed⁶² out that, under the proposed new investment, Louis would be receiving in income thirty or thirty-five shillings for every pound under the old investments, Louis' eye glistened⁹²—positively⁹³ glistened! Rachel trembled. She saw her husband beggared, and there was nothing that frightened her more than the prospect⁹⁴ of Louis without a reserve of private income. She did not argue the position—she simply knew that Louis without sure resources behind him would be a very dangerous and uncertain Louis, perhaps a tragic⁹⁵ Louis. She frankly⁹⁶ admitted this to herself. And old Batchgrew went on talking and inveigling⁹⁷ until Rachel was ready to believe that the device of debentures had been originally invented by Thomas Batchgrew himself with felonious intent.
 
An automobile⁹⁸ hooted⁹⁹ in the street.
 
"Well, ye'll think it over," said Thomas Batchgrew.
 
"Oh I will!" said Louis eagerly.
 
And Rachel asked herself, almost shaking—"Is it possible that he is such a simpleton?"
 
"Only I must know by Tuesday," said Thomas Batchgrew. "I thought I'd give ye th' chance, but I can't keep it open later than Tuesday."
 
"Thanks, awfully," said Louis. "I'm very much obliged for the offer. I'll let you know—before Tuesday."
 
Rachel frowned as she folded up the jacket. If, however, the two men could have seen into her mind they would have perceived symptoms of danger more agitating¹⁰⁰ than one little frown.
 
"Of course," said Thomas Batchgrew easily, with a short laugh, in the lobby, "if it hadna been for her making away with that nine hundred and sixty-odd pound, you'd ha' had a round sum o' thousands to invest. I've been thinking o'er that matter, and all I can see for it is as her must ha' thrown th' money into th' fire in mistake for th' envelope, or with th' envelope. That's all as I can see for it."
 
Louis flushed slightly as he slapped his thigh¹⁰¹.
 
"Never thought of that!" he cried. "It very probably was that. Strange it never occurred to me!"
 
Rachel said nothing. She had extreme difficulty in keeping control of herself while old Batchgrew, with numerous senile precautions, took his slow departure. She forgot that she was a hostess and a woman of the world.
 
 
III
"Hello! What's that?" Rachel asked, in a self-conscious voice, when they were in the parlour again.
 
Louis had almost surreptitiously taken an envelope from his pocket, and was extracting a paper from it.
 
On finding themselves alone they had not followed their usual custom of bursting into comment, favourable¹⁰² or unfavourable, on the departed—a practice due more to a desire to rouse and enjoy each other's individualities than to a genuine interest in the third person. Nor had they impulsively¹⁰³ or deliberately¹⁰⁴ kissed, as they were liable to do after release from a spell of worldliness. On the contrary, both were still constrained¹⁰⁵, as if the third person was still with them. The fact was that there were two other persons in the room, darkly discerned by Louis and Rachel—namely, a different, inimical Rachel and a different, inimical Louis. All four, the seen and the half-seen, walked stealthily, like rival beasts in the edge of the jungle.
 
"Oh!" said Louis with an air of nonchalance¹⁰⁶. "It came by the last post while old Batch¹ was here, and I just shoved it into my pocket."
 
The arrivals of the post were always interesting to them, for during the weeks after marriage letters are apt to be more numerous than usual, and to contain delicate and enchanting¹⁰⁷ surprises. Both of them were always strictly¹⁰⁸ ceremonious in the handling of each other's letters, and yet both deprecated this ceremoniousness in the beloved. Louis urged Rachel to open his letters without scruple¹⁰⁹, and Rachel did the same to Louis. But both—Louis by chivalry¹¹⁰ and Rachel by pride—were prevented from acting on............