first numbers always are.'
Bold declared that Mr Sentiment had got nothing from
him, and that he was deeply grieved to find that the case had
become so notorious.
'The fire has gone too far to be quenched,' said Towers;
'the building must go now; and as the timbers are all rotten,
why, I should be inclined to say, the sooner the better. I
expected to see you get some eclat in the matter.'
This was all wormwood to Bold. He had done enough to
make his friend the
wardenmiserable for life, and had then
backed out just when the success of his
project was sufficient
to make the question one of real interest. How weakly he had
managed his business! he had already done the harm, and
then stayed his hand when the good which he had in view was
to be commenced. How
delightful would it have been to have
employed all his
energy in such a cause--to have been backed
by The Jupiter, and written up to by two of the most popular
authors of the day! The idea opened a view into the very
world in which he wished to live. To what might it not have
given rise? what
delightful intimacies--what public praise--
to what Athenian banquets and rich flavour of Attic salt?
This, however, was now past hope. He had pledged himself
to
abandon the cause; and could he have forgotten the pledge
he had gone too far to
retreat. He was now, this moment,
sitting in Tom Towers' room with the object of deprecating
any further articles in The Jupiter, and, greatly as he disliked
the job, his
petition to that effect must be made.
'I couldn't continue it,' said he, 'because I found I was in
the wrong.'
Tom Towers shrugged his shoulders. How could a successful
man be in the wrong! 'In that case,' said he, 'of course
you must
abandon it.'
'And I called this morning to ask you also to
abandon it,'
said Bold.
'To ask me,' said Tom Towers, with the most
placid of
smiles, and a
consummate look of gentle surprise, as though
Tom Towers was well aware that he of all men was the last
to
meddle in such matters.
'Yes,' said Bold, almost trembling with
hesitation. 'The
Jupiter, you know, has taken the matter up very strongly.
Mr Harding has felt what it has said deeply; and I thought
that if I could explain to you that he
personally has not been
to blame, these articles might be discontinued.'
How
calmly impassive was Tom Towers' face, as this
innocent little
proposition was made! Had Bold addressed
himself to the doorposts in Mount Olympus, they would have
shown as much
outward sign of
assent or
dissent. His quiescence
was quite
admirable; his
discretion certainly more than human.
'My dear fellow,' said he, when Bold had quite done
speaking, 'I really cannot answer for The Jupiter.'
'But if you saw that these articles were
unjust, I think that
You Would
endeavour to put a stop to them. Of course nobody
doubts that you could, if you chose.'
'Nobody and everybody are always very kind, but unfortunately
are generally very wrong.'
'Come, come, Towers,' said Bold, plucking up his courage,
and remembering that for Eleanor's sake he was bound to
make his best
exertion; 'I have no doubt in my own mind but
that you wrote the articles yourself, and very well written they
were: it will be a great favour if you will in future abstain
from any personal
allusion to poor Harding.'
'My dear Bold,' said Tom Towers, 'I have a
sincere regard
for you. I have known you for many years, and value your
friendship; I hope you will let me explain to you, without
offence, that none who are connected with the public press
can with
propriety listen to interference.'
'Interference!' said Bold, 'I don't want to interfere.'
'Ah, but, my dear fellow, you do; what else is it? You
think that I am able to keep certain remarks out of a newspaper.
Your information is probably
incorrect, as most public gossip
on such subjects is; but, at any rate, you think I have such
power, and you ask me to use it: now that is interference.'
'Well, if you choose to call it so.'
'And now suppose for a moment that I had this power, and