Denry the Audacious

by Arnold Bennett

  She made no fuss. There was no implication in her demeanour that sheexpected to be wept over as a lone widow, or that because she and he hadon a time been betrothed therefore they could never speak naturally toeach other again. She just talked as if nothing had ever happened toher, and as if about twenty-four hours had elapsed since she had lastseen him. He felt that she must have picked up this most usefuldiplomatic calmness in her contacts with her late husband's class. Itwas a valuable lesson to him: "Always behave as if nothing hadhappened--no matter what has happened."

  To himself he was saying:

  "I 'm glad I came up in my motor."

  He seemed to need something in self-defence against the sudden attack ofall this wealth and all this superior social tact, and the motor-carserved excellently.

  "I 've been hearing a great deal about you lately," said she with a softsmile, unobtrusively rearranging a fold of her skirt.

  "Well," he replied, "I 'm sorry I can't say the same of you."

  Slightly perilous, perhaps, but still he thought it rather neat.

  "Oh!" she said. "You see I 've been so much out of England. We werejust talking about holidays. I was saying to Mrs. Cotterill theycertainly ought to go to Switzerland this year for a change."

  "Yes, Mrs. Capron-Smith was just saying----" Mrs. Cotterill put in.

  (So that was her name.)

  "It would be something too lovely!" said Nellie in ecstasy.

  Switzerland! Astonishing how with a single word she had marked the gulfbetween Bursley people and herself. The Cotterills had never been outof England. Not merely that, but the Cotterills had never dreamt ofgoing out of England. Denry had once been to Dieppe, and had come backas though from Timbuctoo with a traveller's renown. And she talked ofSwitzerland easily.

  "I suppose it is very jolly," he said.

  "Yes," she said, "it's splendid in summer. But, of course, _the_ time iswinter, for the sports. Naturally when you are n't free to take a bit ofa holiday in winter you must be content with summer, and very splendidit is. I 'm sure you 'd enjoy it frightfully, Nell."

  "I'm sure I should--frightfully!" Nellie agreed. "I shall speak tofather. I shall make him----"

  "Now, Nellie--" her mother warned her.

  "Yes I shall mother," Nellie insisted.

  "There _is_ your father!" observed Mrs. Cotterill, after listening.

  Footsteps crossed the hall, and died away into the dining-room.

  "I wonder why on earth father does n't come in here. He must have heardus talking," said Nellie, like a tyrant crossed in some trifle.

  A bell rang, and the servant came into the drawing-room and remarked:"If you please, mum," at Mrs. Cotterill, and Mrs. Cotterill disappeared,closing the door after her.

  "What are they up to, between them?" Nellie demanded, and she toodeparted, with wrinkled brow, leaving Denry and Ruth together. It couldbe perceived on Nellie's brow that her father was going "to catch it."

  "I have n't seen Mr. Cotterill yet," said Mrs. Capron-Smith.

  "When did you come?" Denry asked.

  "Only this afternoon."

  She continued to talk.

  As he looked at her, listening and responding intelligently now andthen, he saw that Mrs. Capron-Smith was in truth the woman that Ruth hadso cleverly imitated ten years before. The imitation had deceived himthen; he had accepted it for genuine. It would not have deceived himnow--he knew that. Oh, yes! This was the real article that could holdits own anywhere, Switzerland! And not simply Switzerland, but arefinement on Switzerland! Switzerland in winter! He divined that inher secret opinion Switzerland in summer was not worth doing--in the wayof correctness. But in winter----

  II

  Nellie had announced a surprise for Denry as he entered the house, butNellie's surprise for Denry, startling and successful though it proved,was as naught to the surprise which Mr. Cotterill had in hand forNellie, her mother, Denry, the town of Bursley, and various persons upand down the country.

  Mrs. Cotterill came hysterically in upon the duologue between Denry andRuth in the drawing-room. From the activity of her hands, which,instead of being decently folded one over the other, were waving roundher head in the strangest way, it was clear that Mrs. Cotterill wasindeed under the stress of a very unusual emotion.

  "It's those creditors--at last! I knew it would be! It's all thosecreditors! They won't let him alone, and now they 've _done_ it."

  So Mrs. Cotterill! She dropped into a chair. She had no longer anysense of shame, of what was due to her dignity. She seemed to haveforgotten that certain matters are not proper to be discussed indrawing-rooms. She had left the room Mrs. Councillor Cotterill; shereturned to it nobody in particular, the personification of defeat. Thechange had operated in five minutes.

  Mrs. Capron-Smith and Denry glanced at each other, and even Mrs.Capron-Smith was at a loss for a moment. Then Ruth approached Mrs.Cotterill and took her hand. Perhaps Mrs. Capron-Smith was not soastonished after all. She and Nellie's mother had always been "veryfriendly." And in the Five Towns "very friendly" means a lot.

  "Perhaps if you were to leave us," Ruth suggested, twisting her head toglance at Denry.

  It was exactly what he desired to do. There could be no doubt that Ruthwas supremely a woman of the world. Her tact was faultless.

  He left them, saying to himself: "Well, here 's a go!"

  In the hall, through an open door, he saw Councillor Cotterill standingagainst the dining-room mantelpiece.

  When Cotterill caught sight of Denry he straightened himself into acertain uneasy perkiness.

  "Young man," he said in a counterfeit of his old patronising tone, "comein here. You may as well hear about it. You 're a friend of ours.Come in and shut the door."

  Nellie was not in view.

  Denry went in and shut the door.

  "Sit down," said Cotterill.

  And it was just as if he had said: "Now, you 're a fairly bright sort ofyouth, and you have n't done so badly in life; and as a reward I mean toadmit you to the privilege of hearing about our ill-luck, which for somemysterious reason reflects more credit on me than your good luckreflects on you, young man."

  And he stroked his straggling grey beard.

  "I 'm going to file my petition to-morrow," said he, and gave a shortlaugh.

  "Really!" said Denry, who could think of nothing else to say. His namewas not Capron-Smith.

  "Yes; they won't leave me any alternative," said Mr. Cotterill.

  Then he gave a brief history of his late commercial career to the youngman. And he seemed to figure it as a sort of tug-of-war between hiscreditors and his debtors, he himself being the rope. He seemed toimply that he had always done his sincere best to attain the greatestgood of the greatest number, but that those wrong-headed creditors hadconsistently thwarted him. However, he bore them no grudge. It was thefortune of the tug-of-war. He pretended, with shabby magnificence ofspirit, that a bankruptcy at the age of near sixty, in a community whereone has cut a figure, is a mere passing episode.

  "Are you surprised?" he asked foolishly, with a sheepish smile.

  Denry took vengeance for all the patronage that he had received during adecade.

  "No!" he said. "Are you?"

  Instead of kicking Denry out of the house for an impudent youngjackanapes, Mr. Cotterill simply resumed his sheepish smile.

  Denry had been surprised for a moment, but he had quickly recovered.Cotterill's downfall was one of those events which any person of acuteintelligence can foretell after they have happened. Cotterill had runthe risks of the speculative builder, and mortgaged, built andmortgaged, sold at a profit, sold without profit, sold at a loss, andfailed to sell; given bills, given second mortgages, given thirdmortgages; and because he was a builder and could do nothing but build,he had continued to build in defiance of Bursley's lack of enthusiasmfor his erections. If rich gold deposits had been discovered in BursleyMunicipal Park, Cotterill would
have owned a mining camp and amassedimmense wealth; but unfortunately gold deposits were not discovered inthe Park. Nobody knew his position; nobody ever does know the positionof a speculative builder. He did not know it himself. There had beenrumours, but they had been contradicted in an adequate way. His recentrefusal of the mayoral chain, due to lack of spare coin, had beenattributed to prudence. His domestic existence had always beenconducted on the same moderately lavish scale. He had always paid thebaker, the butcher, the tailor, the dressmaker.

  And now he was to file his petition in bankruptcy, and to-morrow theentire town would have "been seeing it coming" for years.

  "What shall you do?" Denry inquired in amicable curiosity.

  "Well," said Cotterill, "that's the point. I 've got a brother, abuilder in Toronto, you know. He 's doing very well; building isbuilding over there! I wrote to him a bit since, and he replied by thenext mail--by the next mail--that what he wanted was just a man like meto overlook things. He's getting an old man now, is John. So, you see,there 's an opening waiting for me."

  As if to say, "The righteous are never forsaken."

  "I tell you all this as you 're a friend of the family like," he added.

  Then, after an expanse of vagueness, he began hopefully, cheerfully,undauntedly:

  "Even _now_ if I could get hold of a couple of thousand I could pullthrough handsome--and there 's plenty of security for it."

  "Bit late now, isn't it?"

  "Not it! If only some one who really knows the town, and has faith inthe property market, would come down with a couple of thousand--well, hemight double it in five years."

  "Really!"

  "Yes," said Cotterill. "Look at Clare Street!"

  Clare Street was one of his terra-cotta masterpieces.

  "You, now!" said Cotterill, insinuating. "I don't expect any one canteach _you_ much about the value o' property in this town. You know aswell as I do. If you happened to have a couple of thousand loose--bygosh! it's a chance in a million!"

  "Yes," said Denry. "I should say that was just about what it was."

  "I put it before you," Cotterill proceeded, gathering way, and missingthe flavour of Denry's remark. "Because you 're a friend of the family.You 're so often here. Why, it's pretty near ten years..."

  Denry sighed: "I expect I come and see you all about once a fortnightfairly regular. That makes two hundred and fifty times in ten years.Yes...."

  "A couple of thou'," said Cotterill reflectively.

  "Two hundred and fifty into two thousand--eight. Eight pounds a visit.A shade thick, Cotterill, a shade thick! You might be half a dozenfashionable physicians rolled into one."

  Never before had he called the Councillor "Cotterill" unadorned.

  Mr. Cotterill flushed and rose.

  Denry does not appear to advantage in this interview. He failed inmagnanimity. The only excuse that can be offered for him is that Mr.Cotterill had called him "young man" once or twice too often in thecourse of ten years. It is subtle.

  III

  "No," whispered Ruth, in all her wraps. "Don't bring it up to the door.I 'll walk down with you to the gate, and get in there."

  He nodded.

  They were off, together. Ruth, it had appeared, was actually staying atthe Five Towns Hotel, at Knype, which at that epoch was the only hotelin the Five Towns seriously pretending to be "first-class" in thefull-page advertisement sense. The fact that Ruth was staying at theFive Towns Hotel impressed Denry anew. Assuredly she did things in thegrand manner. She had meant to walk down by the Park to Bursley Stationand catch the last loop line train to Knype, and when Denry suddenlydisclosed the existence of his motor-car, and proposed to see her to herhotel in it, she in her turn had been impressed. The astonishment inher tone as she exclaimed:

  "Have you got a _motor_?" was the least in the world naive.

  Thus they departed together from the stricken house, Ruth sayingbrightly to Nellie, who had reappeared in a painful state ofdemoralisation, that she should return on the morrow.

  And Denry went down the obscure drive with a final vision of the poorchild Nellie as she stood at the door to speed them. It wasextraordinary how that child had remained a child. He knew that shemust be more than half-way through her twenties, and yet she persistedin being the merest girl! A delightful little thing; but no _savoirvivre_, no equality to a situation, no spectacular pride. Just a nice,bright girl, strangely girlish! The Cotterills had managed that badevening badly. They had shown no dignity, no reserve, no discretion;and old Cotterill had been simply fatuous in his suggestion! As forMrs. Cotterill, she was completely overcome, and it was due solely toRuth's calm managing influence that Nellie, nervous and whimpering, hadwound herself up to come and shut the front door after the guests.

  It was all very sad.

  When he had successfully started the car, and they were sliding down theMoorthorne hill together, side by side, their shoulders touching, Denrythrew off the nightmarish effect of the bankrupt household. After all,there was no reason why he should be depressed. He was not a bankrupt.He was steadily adding riches to riches. He acquired wealthmechanically now. Owing to the habits of his mother he never camewithin miles of living up to his income. And Ruth--she too was wealthy.He felt that she must be wealthy in the strict significance of the term.And she completed wealth by experience of the world. She was his equal.She understood things in general. She had lived, travelled, suffered,reflected--in short, she was a completed article of manufacture. Shewas no little, clinging, raw girl. Further, she was less hard than ofyore. Her voice and gestures had a different quality. The world hadsoftened her. And it occurred to him suddenly that her solefault--extravagance--had no importance now that she was wealthy.

  He told her all that Mr. Cotterill had said about Canada. And she toldhim all that Mrs. Cotterill had said about Canada. And they agreed thatMr. Cotterill had got his deserts, and that, in its own interest, Canadawas the only thing for the Cotterill family. And the sooner the better!People must accept the consequences of bankruptcy. Nothing could bedone.

  "I think it's a pity Nellie should have to go," said Denry.

  "Oh! _Do_ you?" replied Ruth.

  "Yes. Going out to a strange country like that. She 's not what youmay call the Canadian kind of girl. If she could only get something todo here.... If something could be found for her!"

  "Oh! I don't agree with you at _all_!" said Ruth. "Do you really thinkshe ought to leave her parents just _now_? Her place is with herparents. And besides, between you and me, she 'll have a much betterchance of marrying there than in _this_ town--after all this--I can tellyou. Of course I shall be very sorry to lose her--and Mrs. Cotterill,too. But..."

  "I expect you 're right," Denry concurred.

  And they sped on luxuriously through the lamplit night of the FiveTowns. And Denry pointed out his house as they passed it. And theyboth thought much of the security of their positions in the world, andof their incomes, and of the honeyed deference of their bankers; andalso of the mistake of being a failure. You could do nothing with afailure.

  IV

  On a frosty morning in early winter you might have seen them together ina different vehicle--a first-class compartment of the express from Knypeto Liverpool. They had the compartment to themselves and they wereinstalled therein with every circumstance of luxury. Both wereenwrapped in furs, and a fur rug united their knees in its shelter.Magazines and newspapers were scatted about to the value of a labourer'shire for a whole day; and when Denry's eye met the guard's it said"shilling." In short, nobody could possibly be more superb than theywere on that morning in that compartment.

  The journey was the result of peculiar events.

  Mr. Cotterill had made himself a bankrupt, and cast away the robe of aTown Councillor. He had submitted to the inquisitiveness of the OfficialReceiver and to the harsh prying of those rampant baying beasts, hiscreditors.
He had laid bare his books, his correspondence, his lack ofmethod, his domestic extravagance, and the distressing fact that he hadcontinued to trade long after he knew himself to be insolvent. He hadfor several months, in the interests of the said beasts, carried on hisown business as manager at a nominal salary. And gradually everythingthat was his had been sold. And during the final weeks the Cotterillfamily had been obliged to quit their dismantled house and exist inlodgings. It had been arranged that they should go to Canada by way ofLiverpool, and on the day before the journey of Denry and Ruth toLiverpool they had departed from the borough of Bursley (which Mr.Cotterill had so extensively faced with terra-cotta) unhonoured andunsung. Even Denry, though he had visited them in their lodgings to saygood-bye, had not seen them off at the station. But Ruth Capron-Smithhad seen them off at the station. She had interrupted a sojourn atSouthport in order to come to Bursley and despatch them therefrom withdue friendliness. Certain matters had to be attended to after theirdeparture, and Ruth had promised to attend to them.

  Now immediately after seeing them off Ruth had met Denry in the street.

  "Do you know," she said brusquely, "those people are actually goingsteerage? I 'd no idea of it. Mr. and Mrs. Cotterill kept it from me,and I should not have heard of it only from something Nellie said.That's why they 've gone to-day. The boat does n't sail till to-morrowafternoon."