Contraband Matrimony

By Arthur D. Howden Smith

"Contraband Matrimony" by Arthur D. Howden Smith. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Good Press
• Release date: Dec 8, 2020
• ISBN: 4064066423384

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Arthur D. Howden Smith

Contraband Matrimony

Published by Good Press, 2022

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EAN 4064066423384

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I

Table of Contents

McCONAUGHY entered the offices of the Red Funnel Line with the soul-warming satisfaction of the man who has sixty thousand pounds banked to his credit. The clerks in the counting-room whispered behind their ledgers as he passed, for he was a great man now. No other skipper stood so high with the managing director and the board, and it was even rumored that he was to be permitted to purchase an interest in the line.

To McConaughy the stir he created meant nothing. He nodded casually to a few underlings he knew and brushed through the swinging baize-covered door that led to the private offices. Here he found himself in a lobby. The door in front of him was labeled Managing Director; the door to his left Board Room, and the door to his right Captain’s Room. As he hesitated a moment, a high tenor laugh echoed from behind the managing director’s door.

Haw—haw—haw. I say, you know—haw—haw—haw. Rather neat—what? Take your bally motor to the Esplanade—what? And I said to him——

A deep bass voice rumbled indistinctly, and again there came a feeble haw—haw.

McConaughy compressed his lips at the obvious English accent of that labored laughter, and turned into the door marked Captain’s Room.

What ho, McConaughy? Back again, eh? Where from this time?

The speaker was Captain Craven, port superintendent of the line.

I’m from the States. Ma ship is docked. There was worrd the young leddy wished to see me.

That’s right. She sent word you were to come straight up. Craven leaned closer to him. Who do you suppose is in there with her now?

McConaughy shook his head.

Lord Claragh.

The Claragh Line?

Ye guessed it.

An’ what for would he be there?

Craven raised his eyebrows and winked mysteriously.

I think little o’ his mannerr, judgin’ by the seelly foolishness o’ his laughterr, growled McConaughy.

That was not Claragh, said Craven, with another wink. ’Twas his son, man—the Hon. Herbert Tibbotts.

Whoever he may be, he’s a fool—just that, rejoined McConaughy. I could all but smell he was English.

This seemed to strike Craven as uproariously funny. McConaughy looked at him with pronounced disfavor.

Ha’ ye some jest? he demanded.

In a fashion, yes, admitted Craven, wiping away the tears which had run down to his face. To put the case in a nutshell, McConaughy, Claragh’s anxious to marry his son to Miss McNish.

What? That brrayin’ donkey from the London mews?

Yes.

Hecht! An’ ye do not rresent it, any o’ ye?

Why should we? Lord Claragh was a shipmate of Miss McNish’s father. He was the only Englishman McNish ever cared for. This marriage was something the two of them talked over years ago, when the children were small. Besides, do ye see, the old chaps were plain cracked on the subject of joinin’ the two lines. Ye’ll imagine what that would mean. The Claragh Line and the Red Funnel together. Where would be the Cunard or the Hamburg-American?

But do ye not think o’ the lassie? cried McConaughy.

Certainly. But ’tis time she was finding a husband.

Ay, but must it be a husband wit’ a brray like a mule?

You’re not fair to the young man, McConaughy. Lady Claragh she’d be, wi’ her own coronet, an’ the queen’s friend.

McConaughy snorted.

"Ye’re gone daft. All ye think o’ is the line. An’ what use or mannerr o’ orrnament would be a coronet for Miss McNish? She’s well-enough wi’out such gewgaws. Friend o’ the queen! She’s a young leddy highly respected in Belfast by old an’ young, wi’ an abeelity