Читать книгу The rainproof invention: or, Some tangled threads - Emily Poynton Weaver - Страница 10

Table of Contents

A LESSON IN DESIGNING.

“Arthur,” called Mr. Norbury one morning, three or four weeks after his first appearance at the office, “come in here. I want you to look at something.”

Lester had been busy amongst the dye and was adorned with a great coarse apron, but thinking his uncle was alone in his room, he went in just as he was. To his surprise and confusion a young lady was standing by the table, on which were several sheets of paper that his uncle was examining narrowly.

“Here, Arthur,” called Mr. Norbury again, “come in, will you? Now show me, if you can, what’s wrong in these designs.”

Arthur looked over his uncle’s bowed head, not at the designs, but at the designer, thinking that he had never seen any one so pretty before. “Is there anything wrong?” he faltered at last, much confused at the thought of that hideous apron.

“Yes, yes, of course there is,” replied the manufacturer testily. “If you had attended to what I showed you yesterday, you would see it at once. Look here, who do you suppose would wear a cloak with such a thing as that upon it? It is no use, Miss Warrington, you must try to keep before your mind the thought of how these patterns are going to come up in the weaving.”

“WHAT IS WRONG IN THESE DESIGNS?”

Maud’s cheeks flushed a little, more at her employer’s tone than his words; and Arthur struck in indignantly, “I am sure, uncle, that pattern is very pretty: what is the matter with it?”

“It simply won’t work out, that’s all. This one is better,” he said, laying his hand on another sheet of paper, “though I am doubtful how it will look in the cloth. Still, we may let that pass, perhaps;” and Maud knew that this was the warmest praise she could expect for her best efforts. She was beginning to understand that Mr. Norbury found fault on principle, but Arthur had not yet discovered that fact, and he felt much inclined to take up the cudgels in defense of the slighted designs.

“What is wrong with them, uncle?” he persisted. “They are very pretty, I think.”

“Shows then how much you know about it. However, I suppose you’ve got to learn, so I’ll explain it once more, and then, perhaps, Miss Warrington will be able to make that design right.”

Arthur placed a chair for Miss Warrington, then drew one up for himself; and Mr. Norbury, with one of the young people on each side of him, entered into a long and careful explanation of the principles of design as applied to the Norbury Patent Cloth. Unfortunately, his exposition was not as lucid as it might have been, because he only half understood the matter himself, having until quite recently bought the designs ready to be copied in the cloth. His pupils were attentive and anxious to learn, though Maud suspected at times that she was being led by a blind guide, and that an implicit following of the directions given her would only result in disaster. There was no choice, however; she was obliged, as she told her mother a little bitterly, “to do as she was told and to be scolded for it afterwards.”

Hitherto she had not found her work either easy or profitable. Mr. Norbury’s illness had prevented her doing anything for several weeks, and now that he was well again, he seemed harder to please than ever. She was almost ready to fancy that her troubles were a “judgment” on her for her unwillingness to give way to Ralph’s wishes, but designing still seemed to offer the only chance of paying for her own lessons, and she could not make up her mind to give it up.

Mr. Norbury had hardly finished his lecture when a gentleman came in to see him, and he hastily dismissed his pupils. As Maud went home she wondered whether Mr. Lester would prove to be a rival to herself, for her brother hardly ever talked of the affairs of the factory, and she had heard almost nothing about Mr. Norbury’s nephew.

That evening at tea-time Ralph told her once more how much annoyed he had been at her spending the morning in the office.

Maud let the storm wear itself out, then asked, “Who is that Mr. Lester, Ralph? I thought at first he was one of the ‘hands,’ but he looks and speaks like a gentleman.”

“He is Mr. Norbury’s nephew. That is all I know about him, Maud.”

“What does he do?”

“I can’t tell you, Maud. I do not feel any curiosity about him,” replied Ralph curtly. But that was not quite true. He had given many an anxious thought to Lester’s relations with Miss Norbury.

“Didn’t you see him the last time you spent the evening at Mr. Norbury’s?” asked Mrs. Warrington.

“Yes, he was in the room, but I hardly spoke to him.”

Arthur had no idea of the depth of Warrington’s aversion, and from that day showed most unmistakable signs of a desire to be on friendly terms with him. Ralph was blind and deaf to all his overtures, and returned his efforts at civility with a rudeness that Lester seemed singularly unconscious of. Bob Littleton wondered loudly that Arthur “could stand the fellow’s insolence”; but he had not the clew to the mystery. There were times when Lester agreed with him, and felt tempted to pay back Warrington in his own coin, but the memory of Maud’s pretty face was a wonderful help to keeping his temper. He had seen her several times, at church or in the street, since they met in the office, but he had never been able to speak to her.

He began to think that her brother must have divined the secret of his desire to be friendly, and must dislike the idea of his sister’s making his acquaintance. He had not been many weeks in the office before he had heard the story of Warrington’s pedigree, and, as a concession to that young man’s overweening pride of birth, he allowed it to leak out, through the convenient medium of the loquacious Bob, that he himself was not without some pretensions to gentility. He tried to tell the story naturally and carelessly, but he feared that it looked “snobbish,” and for some days he suffered in the estimation of his friend.

This little scheme did not bring him one whit nearer accomplishing his end, though Littleton duly told and exaggerated the narrative of his father’s cruel disinheritance. Ralph was still inexorable, and in desperation Arthur resolved to do without his help.

At last, one day when Maud had spent half the afternoon in the office, he discovered that she had left her pencils and brushes behind her, and with this somewhat flimsy excuse he hurried off after her. He soon overtook her, but she looked so surprised that he hardly knew what to say for himself.

“Ralph would have brought them for me,” said Maud with a slight flush of color in her pale cheeks.

“Yes, I know,” admitted Arthur, “but I wanted to bring them myself. Won’t you give me your parcel? I have an errand to do for Mr. Norbury on Clark Street.”

What they talked of on that memorable walk Arthur tried in vain to remember afterwards. Perhaps they had not said much, for Maud was shy, and he himself was bewildered, but at any rate he had never enjoyed any conversation more.

When they reached the gate of Briar Cottage, Maud held out her hand to say “Good by,” then, glancing up at her mother sewing in the window, she changed her mind and asked him to come in. So at the first serious attack the barriers that had seemed so impenetrable crumbled into dust; and before he left, Mrs. Warrington herself invited him to come whenever he felt inclined. What did Ralph’s rudeness matter now?

He availed himself very often of the privilege of visiting the Warringtons; and for the next few weeks he lived a glorified life of love and hope, even amongst the dust and noise of the dull old factory. He was very happy in those days when he first began to fancy that Maud brightened at his visits, and was sorry when he went away. Even Ralph’s evident dislike troubled him very little, though he still tried to conciliate him. Ralph was hardly ever at home during the evenings, and the thought of his probable disapproval did not cloud his pleasure in the present. When the time came he hoped that Maud would be brave and true to him, and in the mean while he was too busy to trouble himself about fancied ills. He was straining every nerve to please his uncle, for pleasing him meant the right to strive for Maud in earnest.

And Mr. Norbury was pleased, congratulating himself daily upon the wisdom of having sent for him.

Lester found his uncle’s house more homelike than he had expected. The only drawback was Elsie’s perpetual claiming of his time and attention. She continually required him to walk with her, or pay visits, or practice songs; and though Arthur good-humoredly acceded to her wishes, she had an instinctive feeling that he was not in a proper condition of devotion to her. She tried to pique him by bestowing her smiles on Warrington or Dr. Thay, but her cousin resigned himself to being set aside with most unbecoming readiness. She did not know what to make of him, for she was so used to being admired, in spite of her want of beauty, that she regarded it as a matter of course that Lester must admire her. She began to wonder at last where he so often spent his evenings, and as she wished to know she asked him point-blank.

For once Arthur looked annoyed, and hesitated whether to answer her.

More for the sake of teasing, than because she thought so, Elsie went on, “I do believe, Arthur, some young lady must have captivated you! Who is it? Do tell me. Where do you go so often?”

If the room had been lighter, she would have seen that Arthur was blushing, but he made an effort to answer lightly, “You never tell me your secrets, Elsie. It is not fair to ask for mine.”

“I have none to tell. If I had, you should soon hear them. I wish,” she added in a rather graver tone, “that you would let me be a sort of a sister to you. I have always wanted a brother so much. Won’t you be my brother?”

Arthur laughed. “Can I, Elsie?” he asked.

“Why not? We are both so lonely.” Her tone was pathetic enough to touch a heart of stone, but Arthur still laughed.

“If I can, then, I will be your brother, though I hardly know what I am undertaking in this solemn compact. What difference will it make, Elsie? It is only fair that you should explain the duties of my new position.”

But Elsie either was or pretended to be offended. “I meant it seriously,” she said; “why will you turn it all into nonsense?”

“I assure you, Elsie, I am as grave as a judge. I will do my very utmost to be a most exemplary brother, if only you”—

At that instant the door opened and the servant announced Mr. Stanton.

“Is your father at home, Miss Norbury?” he asked. “If he could spare the time, I should like to see him. My business is rather important.”

“I am afraid he is out, but we expect him every moment. Won’t you wait to see him?”

“Thank you. Perhaps I had better.”

This was not the first visit that Mr. Stanton had paid to his employer’s house, and Elsie had already made his acquaintance, but she had never had much chance to talk to him before. On the whole she was not sorry that her cousin soon made his escape from the room and left her to a long tête-à-tête with Mark.

Mr. Norbury did not return till supper was on the table, and Stanton’s business was delayed till after the meal was over. Then he retired with Mr. Norbury to his study and delivered to him a very disagreeable piece of news. It was neither more nor less than that a rival to the Rainproof Cloth had appeared in the market, that threatened to damage Mr. Norbury’s trade seriously. The new material had all the advantages and much the same appearance as his famous goods, but was cheaper.

“I can hardly tell it from our own, sir,” said Stanton; “but I have brought you some samples that I managed to get hold of. Perhaps you may see more difference than I do.”

Mr. Norbury examined them closely and then declared positively, “It is an infringement of my patent; and as sure as my name is James Norbury, I’ll have the law of them.”

“If something isn’t done our trade will be ruined,” said Stanton. “I found that their agents had been beforehand with me in several places, and I thought I had better come back and report to you.”

Mr. Norbury solemnly signified his approval, but was so perturbed in mind that he kept the young man till long after midnight answering his oft-repeated questions. Lester was called into the discussion, and Mr. Norbury decided that if he found that the two patents were as much alike as Stanton supposed, he would at once take steps to secure redress at law.

This, however, was not so easily done. Upon consulting his lawyer he was assured that he had no case, and was advised not to take the matter into court. Not satisfied with this, he consulted other legal gentlemen, who were one and all of the opinion of the first, declaring that it would be absolutely impossible to prove that his patent had been infringed in any way. Thus convinced at last of the impossibility of punishing the offenders, though still persuaded in his own mind of their guilt, Mr. Norbury sat down under his wrongs, and worked with might and main to perfect his improved process and to outwit his rivals.

Lester did not agree with his uncle in regarding the other patentees as blamable in any way, for, as he labored most earnestly (in the interests of justice) to prove, there were radical differences in the two processes which showed that the ideas had been worked out independently. The lawyers apparently agreed with him, but no argument was forcible enough to convince Mr. Norbury of the correctness of this conclusion. He insisted that he had been defrauded, and Mark Stanton said the same.