The client : a novel

Preface

The preface to this story is not intended to be apologetic, but that it should be somewhat explanatory is considered advisable. Public sentiment in matters of morality is often misguided because it is unreal. It is thus as a matter of common honesty unworthy, and as it is unworthy it should be condemned.

Fire is sometimes the only successful agency that can be used in fighting fire ; also when a mechanic tries to regulate the flow of a congested sewer, he feels that excuses would be ridiculous, and that the end justifies the means.

It was not without some feelings of repugnance that the author in writing this narrative took up certain portions of his task. There is much that with regret he left unsaid, and much that he has said he would have gladly omitted. In telling the truth, he has aimed to be explicit enough only to convey the desired effect. He has not sought to create new problems in this world of guesswork, but has earnestly endeavored to solve an old one. He does not seek to justify his views, save by the argument presented in this narrative, and would rather suffer his words to be misinterpreted than to submit harsh proofs of their truth at the expense of what are ofttimes the misdirected efforts of humanity to be good.

Preface

From those who by inheritance or self-discipline have minds that master all emotions, or from those with weak minds and weaker emotions, the writer expects only criticism and abuse. He accords them this privilege by recognizing a law of nature in the creation of life. If the charity he accords to human frailty is misleading in its moral influence ; if the severity with which he criticises the Pharisee is wrong, he would only note that these attitudes of forbearance and justice are common to the hearts of many men, and that at the dawn of Christian history, misguided public sentiment caused the death on the Cross of One, who thus taught them mercy for erring mortals, and whose social position on earth was not impaired thereby, save in the minds of those who crucified Him. But from those who have sounded the depths and shoals of human frailty, and whose senses have been so attuned to nature that their gratification or repression has made this life to them a heaven or a hell, he expects only sympathy and gratitude. In Divinely created, but Satan seduced, man he has sought to disintegrate his dual nature and to draw a perceptible dividing line between the influences of love and lust. Keenly realizing how utterly futile are the influences of Christian morality in regulating the lives of a vast proportion of humanity, he has endeavored to reveal to them the inexorable laws of nature in an argument which appeals only to the senses, and that higher intelligence which ever seeks ideals.

On a stormy afternoon in February Ambrose Pierce sat alone in his office in Clifton Street. Tilted back in his chair, his feet crossed, and resting upon a desk that was littered over with legal documents and books of law, he intently watched the thin wreaths of blue smoke that rose toward the ceiling from a partly consumed cigar.

In deep thought, and oblivious to the storm that raged without, the alternate lights and shadows that appeared and disappeared upon his usually sombre face were indications of that chief attribute of a successful lawyer — versatility — if nothing more. For Ambrose Pierce was a lawyer and at one time had been successful and prominent in his profession. He was forty-three years of age, and in appearance was not pleasant to look upon. Over six feet tall ; angular, raw boned and irregular features, a high retreating forehead indicative of powerful but slow perception ; a massive jaw ; small deep sunken eyes, dull and expressionless in repose, but which when lighted by the fire of passionate energy were capable of expressing the deepest emotion a human heart can feel. These unprepossessing characteristics were partially offset by a profusion of dark auburn hair and moustache, slightly streaked with gray ; a well formed mouth and white regular teeth. In fact there were some people who thought Ambrose Pierce good-looking when he smiled. He was habitually slow motioned and awkward, but when roused to action these faults seemed but to intensify his deadly earnestness and impetuous fascination. He was careless in his dress, but methodical, systematic and accurate in business. He possessed a selective memory, almost infallible in its accuracy; a gift of perception so intense in its penetration that his first impressions were almost invariably correct. Fair and just to his clients in a practice extending over a period of ten years, he had never prosecuted a case that could not be won and had never lost a case that could be won, but he was now an unpopular lawyer, and unsuccessful because unpopular, though superficially there were no apparent good reasons for his lost prestige.

As a high spirited romantic and imaginative boy of sixteen, whose chief amusement was the construction of air castles, he had been at this early age thrown upon his own resources, and in the rude awakening that followed he was soon forced to realize that a seven roomed house was really a great problem. This serious phase of his life was accentuated by the fact that though he possessed a good common school education his real education began when he closed his school-books. It was then his experience to secure employment with a man who in business was severely practical, and also a past master in questionable business methods. This man, brilliant, sagacious and with a magnetic personality, in a period of ten years so influenced and moulded the youthful mind of Ambrose that in a mental sense he was to a great extent recreated. On leaving this employer, it was again his experience to be associated for several years with a man quite notorious as a plunging promoter, who also taught Ambrose all he knew.

At last when near thirty years of age he parted for good from these adepts in business trickery, the law, without reflecting upon it as a profession, seemed to afford a natural and lucrative opening for his ambition and ability.

After a few years of study he was admitted to the bar, and though he had been taught and almost believed that business honor defined meant respect for the law, he still felt an inherent sense of justice and equity for his fellow man, that now responsible to himself alone he used with discretion and care, both to his business advantage and his self-respect.

As a lawyer he had realized from many bitter experiences in the past that his natural indolence and slow perception were the greatest barriers to success in a vocation where ready wit and quick intuition were of vital importance. So as a matter of course it followed that in a determined effort to overcome this failing his brain became abnormally active and his gift of penetration correspondingly acute. In almost every phase of his business he could correctly anticipate what would be said and done, and so in court was ever ready for attack or defense. In his arguments he possessed a personal magnetism that was irresistible. He used no gestures, but depended on the attitude of his body, the expression of his eyes, and the carefully modulated cadences of a charming voice that lulled the senses to repose and forgetfulness of right or wrong, and then with repressed intensity swept away all opposition and established conviction in the place of doubt and uncertainty. In reality he fought his cases, he did not plead them. He always insisted that his clients should tell him the truth and not to misrepresent the facts of a case. The fact that he scarcely ever hesitated to tell the truth to his clients showed a deliberate carelessness in matters of business discretion. On one occasion a lady had called to retain him in a suit against her husband for desertion. In telling her story the real facts were quite apparent to the lawyer, and though she claimed to be a suffering martyr as a result of her husband’s conduct, Ambrose told her that the reason she was a martyr was because she deserved to be one.

On another occasion one of his clients, a wealthy man whose real estate interests were very extensive, had asked him to foreclose a small mortgage which he held on a valuable property owned by a man who at the time was in serious financial trouble, by reason of his brother’s failure in business, and also sick in bed with typhoid fever. The client felt that this would be an excellent chance to secure a valuable property, but his smile as he so expressed himself met with no response from Ambrose, who replied that he was conscientiously opposed to taking blood money, but that he would observe his client’s wishes ; after saying which he deliberately postponed action in the matter until the unfortunate debtor was able to protect himself and save his home.

Ambrose was next elected to the legislature, but like all politicians who successfully aspire to office he had to go under the fence instead of over it. As a candidate he was ostensibly the champion of the people's rights, but in reality he was bound by strict obligations to work for the interests of a rich corporation who desired a valuable state franchise, the gift of which would be inimical to the public welfare. As a candidate Ambrose worked hard, made many speeches and was elected. When the franchise in question came up for consideration he promptly voted against it, and when the corporation desiring the franchise, and which had spent considerable money to elect him charged him with breaking his promise he said with his most amiable smile, “ It is true I made a few promises to you. In fact they were positive promises, but in the speeches I made to the people on many occasions I repeatedly pledged myself to work for their best interests. In satisfying my conscience as to this particular matter I felt that I should sin less in breaking my promises to you than in breaking those I had made to thousands of men who voted for and elected me."

His career as a politician was thus virtually ended, though he subsequently was appointed as judge of a criminal court and served a term of three years. While on the bench many of his decisions were adversely commented on, and on several occasions he was severely criticised. One decision in particular aroused a storm of public criticism. Several wretched girls, social outcasts, were arrested and brought before him. They were young and attractive, but poorly dressed. With tear-stained faces they told the judge that they were willing to work, but were homeless and starving and had begged for help. The judge asked the officers to produce the man or men who were responsible for

IO their dishonor, and as this could not be done he discharged them. The criticism he received for this action from bodies of society women was especially severe and merciless, and the degree of their condemnation, aided by a subservient press, seemed only to be measured by the distance that good fortune and discretion had removed them from the possibility of a fate similar to that of the miserable creatures whom they thus indirectly persecuted. To all this Ambrose disdained to make any reply save to remark that when the great Nazarene was on earth, He, in His treatment of fallen women had given the world a precept it well might follow. As a judge he also recommended the regulation of certain vices by secret service law. He contended that bad people washed were better than bad people dirty, and that the bath-tub properly used was useful in cleaning souls as well as bodies. He objected to the washing of soiled linen in the columns of the daily press. He said that the most severe and unfair judge of sinners was the man or woman who had reformed for business reasons. He said the world was bad enough, and that misguided morality should not be allowed to get on a pedestal with the only result of making it worse. He said that the public health morally and physically was of more importance than the public conscience. He did not mean to say, “ what is the use of trying to be good ? ” — but he did think a man was a fool who tried to sweep back the ocean waves with a broom. These radical views caused his retirement from the bench, and as he returned to private life and resumed his practice of law, he sadly realized that though advanced ideas were essential to the develop-

1 1

ment and progress of a nation they were as a rule a barrier to success individually.

Ambrose Pierce had married at the age of thirty-three. Always an admirer of beauty, he had chosen for a wife a plain honest girl of respectable family, and who throughout all their wedded life had faithfully loved him, though no children had blessed their union. In marrying her he had tacitly obeyed the teachings of his former cold-blooded business preceptors ; that in selecting a wife a man should observe the same business judgment that he would use in buying a horse. He had succeeded so admirably in this business phase of the matter that the sentiment of the honeymoon was quickly dispelled, and from then up to the time this narrative begins, the business rules that dominated him as a lover had thoroughly influenced his conduct as a husband. He was of course unhappy, and fully realized the cause, but he had reached a mature age without the power to make or retain friends, and we can readily understand why, for with the exception of his wife’s pure love the only emotions he seemed to inspire in others were those of fear or fascination, so that to the world and in himself he was living and had lived an involuntary dual life.

He could not separate in himself the inherent attributes of God, given him by Christian birth and training as a boy, when these qualities had been so repressed by master minds dominating his very existence, that he sometimes felt honestly justified in questioning his mental parentage. These ideas of Ambrose were not illusions, their affects upon him were plainly perceptible, but never understood. While he disdained to acknowledge fashions or social forms, there were many times when he showed a courtly knowledge of both. When he felt so disposed his polite affability was intensely fascinating and winning. He was considered by many to be a dangerous man ; for action to him meant accomplishment. He never worked save when he knew he could win and was never known to acknowledge defeat. He was slow to be convinced, but his convictions could not be changed. He did not believe in trying to solve the abstruse problems of the universe, save through natural laws, and looked through nature for nature’s God. Beyond this he questioned the Infinite alone.

Two forces forever at war in his breast, had by constant clashing, so intensified his powers for good or evil that he felt alternate sensations of bliss or horror, as with trembling heart he stood at the portals of light and darkness and felt that he was privileged to seek in either realm for ideal life.

And so on this stormy winter day, as the hero of our story is thus introduced to the reader we find him in idle meditation, vaguely pondering with feelings misanthropic and almost agnostic on his past, his present, and his future life. Living beyond his time he seemed worldly wise in his knowledge of humanity to the limit of human intelligence. He felt that if the world mocked and starved some men while living and crowned them when dead, the ridicule and the crown were alike valueless ; so, to him, this is a sad and dangerous hour ; for with his lost prestige as a lawyer and consequent financial troubles, he remembers only his wife as he realizes that he has reached the parting of the ways.

Contents

I. The Lawyer at Work 15

II, The Lawyer at Home 29

III. Mrs. Weedahl and Her Business

Chapter I

The howling of the storm without and the chilly temperature of his office at length roused Ambrose from his reverie. He placed his benumbed feet upon the floor and turning in his chair noted that his wood-fire was smouldering embers. He placed some well dried hickory wood upon the andirons and drawing a chair in front of the fireplace fanned the embers until a bright fire crackled and glowed therein. This firelight caused flickering shadows to assume fantastic shapes upon the walls and ceiling of the large, darkened room, and brought into strange relief the many oil paintings and steel engravings of old time judges and ecclesiastics in wig and gown, whose faces sombre and grim in the broad light of day seemed to take on grotesque expressions of merriment, as the firelight paled and shone. Several pedestals and bracket shelves also were repositories for time worn busts of old masters of legal lore. Ambrose had devoted considerable time and much good taste in his collection of these reproductions of ancient celebrities, and a number of large bookcases well filled with the best works i6 on subjects of instructive value to him professionally, gave to his “ workshop ” as he called it an impression of the “ law’s majesty ” ; that to his clients Ambrose always intensified or promptly dispelled according to the merits of their respective causes.

In a smaller room adjoining, a pale faced young man about twenty-five years of age was busily engaged in preparing from shorthand notes the defense that Ambrose was to make in a murder case that had been set for trial at a date now near at hand. This young man in his character and habits reflected in some degree the master mind that dominated him. Knowing everything he knew nothing, and his master’s clients in their impatience to obtain information from him were often angered and disgusted by his slow non-committal answers to their inquiries, and by his apparent stupidity and ignorance.

A lull in the storm and the clicking of the typewriting machine under Adolph’s expert fingers attracted the attention of Ambrose, who going in to him gave some notes and instructions ; then walking to the window and putting his hands in his pockets he looked out upon the storm. In the street below were a few pedestrians carefully picking their way on the icy pavements, and whose umbrellas but partially shielded them from the sleet and wind. The branches of the trees were bending and cracking with their icy load, and occasionally when struck by an unusually hard blast would break and fall to the ground.

“ A beastly day,” muttered Ambrose ; “ surely if my fair client who desires a divorce comes here on i7 a day like this it will be safe to assume that she means business. Don’t you think so, Adolph ? ”

Adolph, thus interrogated, looked up and replied, “ Yes, sir, if in coming here to-day she chooses the least of two evils, we can consider it a fact that her husband is a bad one.”

“ In her coming here to-day, or her failure to come, there are a great many other deductions we might naturally make regarding her,” said Ambrose. “ All women are alike in matters of caprice and uncertainty, but where their hearts are deeply concerned they are open books to all who care to read them. If this woman comes to-day we can assume at once that she either loves her husband or she fears him, and it will be an easy matter to determine this question. Of course my decision to take her case or reject it will depend upon my deductions in the matter after talking to her. If I feel that she loves her husband I will take her case. If she loves another man, I won’t.”

“ You think then, sir,” said Adolph, “ that if she loves another man you would rather have her husband for a client? ”

“ Precisely,” said Ambrose, who seating himself at his desk picked up a pale blue delicately scented envelope and drew therefrom his prospective client's note of appointment.

“ A, B, C,” said Ambrose referring to the monogram at the top of the page, and he smiled grimly. “ No, no, the woman never lived who was so plain, so easily understood.” The note read as follows :

“ Judge Pierce,

“ My Dear Sir: I write you at the suggestion i8 of Mrs. Weedahl, who is, I believe, a client of yours, and who has spoken favorably of you as a lawyer. I wish to secure a divorce from my husband, and will call upon you Thursday afternoon at 3:30 o’clock for the purpose of consulting you in regard to this matter. As I am totally unknown to you I desire by this letter to introduce myself, and at the same time to request of you the strictest privacy for our interview. If the day and hour I have named should not suit your convenience, kindly advise me at once and appoint another time.

“ Very truly yours,

“ Annette B. Caldwell.

“ P. S. Please do not mention to any one but Mrs. Weedahl the nature of my business with you.

Ambrose smiled as he placed the letter in its envelope. “ Poor woman,” said he. “ As is often the case in a woman’s letter, the postscript conveys its greatest meaning. One thing is certain, she either loves her husband or she fears him. She evidently knows but little of Mrs. Weedahl or myself. She is far from being ready to burn the bridges behind her. In the mind of almost anybody else Mrs. Weedahl’s endorsement of me would be tantamount to a conviction of all that is bad, but bah ; what difference does it make ? Fame — good or bad is often like life insurance — a game at which we must die to win.”

The hall door of the room adjoining opened and closed, and Adolph entered his master’s room bearing a card. “ Mrs. Caldwell,” said he. Ambrose motioned for him to place a chair opposite his desk and in such a position that when the lady talked with him the strongest light would be thrown upon her face. These preliminaries duly attended to, Ambrose arose from his chair as Mrs. Caldwell entered the room.

“Judge Pierce?” she said, inquiringly.

“ Yes, madam,” said Ambrose. “ Be seated, please, or let me suggest first that you remove the cloak you have on, which seems very wet.”

“ Thank you,” said she, as Ambrose assisted in removing the wrap and hung it on a chair before the fire.

“ If you don’t mind, I will sit by your cheerful fireplace a minute. I am nearly frozen.” A plaintive smile appeared on her face as she said this, and as Ambrose placed a chair for her close to the fire, she seated herself, and with a shiver extended her hands and feet toward the genial warmth. Ambrose noted her movements with respectful admiration, and his interest in her, inspired by first impressions, was intense. She was perhaps thirty years of age. She was not strictly beautiful, but there was a charm about her that was almost instantaneously and delightfully perceptible to his every sense. She was above the medium height, graceful and well formed. Her luxuriant brown hair disarranged by the storm fell in picturesque confusion about a face that was remarkable for its sweetness of expression and consistency with her charming voice and smile. Ambrose had always been a critical admirer of physical beauty in women, but never before had he realized the many charming attributes that nature could lavishly bestow in its mature perfection. In his critical observation of some men and women he had often thought that nature in creating them had hesitated too long before deciding upon their sex, but in his fair client he sacrilegiously thought that nature had deliberately planned and created a daughter of Eve whose charms were possibly greater than those of her ancestral mother, and whose virtue perhaps was less questionable. As she sat gazing at the fire her face in repose had a somewhat wan and hard expression, and she seemed for the moment forgetful of her surroundings, but she presently turned toward Ambrose and said with another smile, “ You did not expect me to-day, did you? Now confess,” said she, as Ambrose essayed to reply. “ You think I am in a bad fix to come here to talk divorce on a day like this. Well, I am in serious trouble,” and Ambrose noted the unshed tears in her eyes.

“ Come,” said he, “ if you feel sufficiently warmed, take this chair here by my desk and tell me about it.”

“ Now,” said she, as Ambrose with pencil and tablet prepared himself to note the essential features of her statement. “ My name is Annette Borden Caldwell. My husband’s name is Richard Ainsley Caldwell, and we have been married a little more than nine years. We do not reside in this city, but at Raleigh, which you know is twenty-three miles from here. My husband is sheriff of Prescott County. He is quite well known as a politician, and recently he has become well known in connection with a case that does not relate to politics at all. He is very much in love with another woman, and ”

“You said in love,” said Ambrose, interrupting her. “ Does his conduct toward you indicate that his feelings for her are those of love or infatuation ? ”

“ Why, I don’t believe that he loves her. I think it is simply infatuation. Before I discovered his perfidy he gave me everything I asked for; and when I asked for an explanation of his generosity he said he was squaring himself with his conscience, that was all he would say.”

“ And since you discovered his perfidy?”

“ Well, since then he has given everything to her, and tells me to get out.”

“ But up to the present time you have been careful not to get out.”

“ Only once, and then he put me out, but I went back immediately.”

“ He seized you and forcibly put you out of the house ? What did he say at the time he did this, and who else was present ? ”

“No other person was present at the time, but he said, * get out and stay out/ and swore at me.”

“ What had you said or done to provoke this action on his part ? ”

“ I had told him that I would not stand his conduct toward me, and that unless he reformed I would leave him.”

“ Did he strike you ? ”

“ No, but he hurt me by the rough manner in which he grasped my arm and pushed me about.”

“ Now,” said Ambrose, noting with his pencil, as he spoke. “ Your husband forcibly put you out of the house, swore at you, and told you to get out and stay out ? ”

“ Yes, sir.”

At the request of Ambrose his client then made a statement in regard to the property possessed by her husband and his yearly income. She also told him that her husband was a well known club-man ; that she had married him after an acquaintance of less than two months ; and that his neglect of her had begun in less than a year after their marriage.

In response to the lawyer’s suggestions and pointed questions the sad truth was revealed that her husband was a heartless scoundrel, but that her fidelity for him was still unquestioned. After all these matters had been gone over in detail, Ambrose felt that she still loved her husband, and under this impression he also understood that her statements as to his misconduct had been in no way exaggerated, but that she showed a disposition to excuse his brutality. He had already decided that her case was a worthy one, but for the apparent lack of competent witnesses it would not do for him to be precipitate in legal action. He also felt that by reason of this important obstacle and her evident reluctance to tell the whole truth, that he was as her lawyer in duty bound both by question and comment to arrive at such an understanding of the entire state of affairs between them that he could make such intelligent deductions and inferences as would properly guide him in his successful prosecution of the case.

“ Now, Mrs. Caldwell,” said he, “ it is patent to me as well as to you that your husband’s love for this woman, like many other cases of so-called affection, is not an emotion that would stand in any degree the analysis that respectability would make ; but though his infatuation will undoubtedly be short-lived, it is for you only the beginning of the end. It is useless for you to delude yourself with the hope, which I feel you secretly entertain, as to his reformation. You see, he has for many years practiced this deception toward you ; and now his contempt for your wifely forbearance finds expression in almost an open violation of his marriage vows. If it is not this woman it will be some one else, and further efforts on your part to do your duty as a wife will not only subject you to worse cruelty from him, but will forfeit for you the respect of all your friends. I fully understand your personal feelings in the matter, but as far as your financial helplessness is concerned leave that to me. We will force him to provide for you. You must go home to him, and stay there, but only until I tell you to leave. Your case is a worthy one, but you are sadly in need of competent witnesses, and evidence outside of your own statement we must obtain as quickly as possible. I am only your lawyer, and in that capacity my duty toward you is a plain one, but your helplessness inspires me with a feeling of pity which prompts me to speak also to you as a man. So forgive me if my interest in your case is suggestive of advice in this respect as well.”