AN ASSISTED PROVIDENCE
IT was the Christmas turkeys that should be held responsible. Every yearthe Lossings give each head of a family in their employ, and eachlad helping to support his mother, a turkey at Christmastide. As thebusiness has grown, so has the number of turkeys, until it is nowwell up in the hundreds, and requires a special contract. Harry, oneChristmas, some two years ago, bought the turkeys at so good a bargainthat he felt the natural reaction in an impulse to extravagance. Inthe very flood-tide of the money-spending yearnings, he chanced topass Deacon Hurst's stables and to see two Saint Bernard puppies, ofelephantine size but of the tenderest age, gambolling on the sidewalkbefore the office. Deacon Hurst, I should explain, is no more a deaconthan I am; he is a livery-stable keeper, very honest, a keen and solemnsportsman, and withal of a staid demeanor and a habitual garb of black.Now you know as well as I any reason for his nickname.
Deacon Hurst is fond of the dog as well as of that noble animal thehorse (he has three copies of "Black Beauty" in his stable, which woulddo an incalculable amount of good if they were ever read!); and heusually has half a dozen dogs of his own, with pedigrees long enoughfor a poor gentlewoman in a New England village. He told Harry that theSaint Bernards were grandsons of Sir Bevidere, the "finest dog of histime in the world, sir;" that they were perfectly marked and verylarge for their age (which Harry found it easy to believe of the younggiants), and that they were "ridiculous, sir, at the figger of twohundred and fifty!" (which Harry did not believe so readily); and, afterHarry had admired and studied the dogs for the space of half an hour,he dropped the price, in a kind of spasm of generosity, to two hundreddollars. Harry was tempted to close the bargain on the spot, hot-headed,but he decided to wait and prepare his mother for such a large additionto the stable.
The more he dwelt on the subject the more he longed to buy the dogs.
In fact, a time comes to every healthy man when he wants a dog, justas a time comes when he wants a wife; and Harry's dog was dead.By consequence, Harry was in the state of sensitive affection anddesolation to which a promising new object makes the most moving appeal.The departed dog (Bruce by name) had been a Saint Bernard; and DeaconHurst found one of the puppies to have so much the expression ofcountenance of the late Bruce that he named him Bruce on the spot--alittle before Harry joined the group. Harry did not at first recognizethis resemblance, but he grew to see it; and, combined with the dog'saffectionate disposition, it softened his heart. By the time he told hismother he was come to quoting Hurst's adjectives as his own.
"Beauties, mother," says Harry, with sparkling eyes; "the markings areperfect--couldn't be better; and their heads are shaped just right!You can't get such watch-dogs in the world! And, for all their enormousstrength, gentle as a lamb to women and children! And, mother, one ofthem looks like Bruce!"
"I suppose they would want to be housedogs," says Mrs. Lossing, a littledubiously, but looking fondly at Harry's handsome face; "you know,somehow, all our dogs, no matter how properly they start in a kennel,end by being so hurt if we keep them there that they come into thehouse. And they are so large, it is like having a pet lion about."
"These dogs, mother, shall never put a paw in the house."
"Well, I hope just as I get fond of them they will not have thedistemper and die!" said Mrs. Lossing; which speech Harry rightly tookfor the white flag of surrender.
That evening he went to find Hurst and clinch the bargain. As ithappened, Hurst was away, driving an especially important politicalpersonage to an especially important political council. The dayfollowing was a Sunday; but, by this time, Harry was so bent uponobtaining the dogs that he had it in mind to go to Hurst's house forthem in the afternoon. When Harry wants anything, from Saint Bernards topurity in politics, he wants it with an irresistible impetus! If hedid wrong, his error was linked to its own punishment. But this isanticipating, if not presuming; I prefer to leave Harry Lossing'sexperience to paint its own moral without pushing. The event thathappened next was Harry's pulling out his check-book and beginning towrite a check, remarking, with a slight drooping of his eyelids, "Bestcatch the deacon's generosity on the fly, or it may make a home run!"
Then he let the pen fall on the blotter, for he had remembered theday. After an instant's hesitation he took a couple of hundred-dollarbank-notes out of a drawer (I think they were gifts for his two sisterson Christmas day, for he is a generous brother; and most likely therewould be some small domestic joke about engravings to go with them);these he placed in the right-hand pocket of his waistcoat. In hisleft-hand waistcoat pocket were two five-dollar notes.
Harry was now arrayed for church. He was a figure to please any woman'seye, thought his mother, as she walked beside him, and gloried silentlyin his six feet of health and muscle and dainty cleanliness. He was in amost amiable mood, what with the Saint Bernards and the season. As theyapproached the cathedral close, Harry, not for the first time, admiredthe pure Gothic lines of the cathedral, and the soft blending of graysin the stone with the warmer hues of the brown network of Virginiacreeper that still fluttered, a remnant of the crimson adornings ofautumn. Beyond were the bare, square outlines of the old college, witha wooden cupola perched on the roof, like a little hat on a fat man,the dull-red tints of the professors' houses, and the withered lawns andbare trees. The turrets and balconies and arched windows of the boys'school displayed a red background for a troop of gray uniforms andblazing buttons; the boys were forming to march to church. Opposite theboys' school stood the modest square brick house that had served thefirst bishop of the diocese during laborious years. Now it was thedean's residence. Facing it, just as you approached the cathedral, thestreet curved into a half-circle on either side, and in the centre thegranite soldier on his shaft looked over the city that would honor him.Harry saw the tall figure of the dean come out of his gate, the longblack skirts of his cassock fluttering under the wind of his big steps.Beside him skipped and ran, to keep step with him, a little man inill-fitting black, of whose appearance, thus viewed from the rear, onecould only observe stooping shoulders and iron-gray hair that curled atthe ends.
"He must be the poor missionary who built his church himself," Mrs.Lossing observed; "he is not much of a preacher, the dean said, but heis a great worker and a good pastor."
"So much the better for his people, and the worse for us!" says Harry,cheerfully.
"Why?"
"Naturally. We shall get the poor sermon and they will get the goodpastoring!"
Then Harry caught sight of a woman's frock and a profile that he knew,and thought no more of the preacher, whoever he might be.
But he was in the chancel in plain view, after the procession ofchoir-boys had taken their seats. He was an elderly man with thincheeks and a large nose. He had one of those great, orotund voices thatoccasionally roll out of little men, and he read the service with amisjudged effort to fill the building. The building happened to havepeculiarly fine acoustic properties; but the unfortunate man roared likehim of Bashan. There was nothing of the customary ecclesiastical dignityand monotony about his articulation; indeed, it grew plain and plainerto Harry that he must have "come over" from some franker and moreemotional denomination. It seemed quite out of keeping with his homelymanner and crumpled surplice that this particular reader should intone.Intone, nevertheless, he did; and as badly as mortal man well could! Itwas not so much that his voice or his ear went wrong; he would have hada musical voice of the heavy sort, had he not bellowed; neither did hisear betray him; the trouble seemed to be that he could not decide whento begin; now he began too early, and again, with a startled air, hebegan too late, as if he had forgotten.
"I hope he will not preach," thought Harry, who was absorbed in a raptcontemplation of his sweetheart's back hair. He came back from a tenderrevery (by way of a little detour into the furniture business and theestablishment that a man of his income could afford) to the church andthe preacher and his own sins, to find the strange clergyman in thepulpit, plainly frightened, and bawling
more loudly than ever under theinfluence of fear. He preached a sermon of wearisome platitudes; makingup for lack of thought by repetition, and shouting himself red in theface to express earnestness. "Fourth-class Methodist effort," thoughtthe listener in the Lossing pew, stroking his fair mustache, "withEpiscopal decorations! That man used to be a Methodist minister, andhe was brought into the fold by a high-churchman. Poor fellow, theMethodist church polity has a place for such fellows as he; but he is astray sheep with us. He doesn't half catch on to the motions; yet I'llwarrant he is proud of that sermon, and his wife thinks it one of thegreat efforts of the century." Here Harry took a short rest from thesermon, to contemplate the amazing moral phenomenon: how robust can be awife's faith in a commonplace husband!
"Now, this man," reflected Harry, growing interested in his own fancies,"this man never can have LIVED! He doesn't know what it is to suffer, hehas only vegetated! Doubtless, in a prosaic way, he loves his wifeand children; but can a fellow who talks like him have any delicatesympathies or any romance about him? He looks honest; I think he is aright good fellow and works like a soldier; but to be so stupid as heis, ought to HURT!"
Harry felt a whimsical moving of sympathy towards the preacher. Hewondered why he continually made gestures with the left arm, never withhis right.
"It gives a one-sided effect to his eloquence," said he. But he thoughtthat he understood when an unguarded movement revealed a rent which hadbeen a mended place in the surplice.
"Poor fellow," said Harry. He recalled how, as a boy, he had gone to afancy-dress ball in Continental smallclothes, so small that he had beenstrictly cautioned by his mother and sisters not to bow except with thegreatest care, lest he rend his magnificence and reveal that it was tootight to allow an inch of underclothing. The stockings, in particular,had been short, and his sister had providently sewed them on to theknee-breeches, and to guard against accidents still further, had pinnedas well as sewed, the pins causing Harry much anguish.
"Poor fellow!" said Harry again, "I wonder is HE pinned somewhere? Ifeel like giving him a lift; he is so prosy it isn't likely anyone elsewill feel moved to help."
Thus it came about that when the dean announced that the alms this daywould be given to the parish of our friend who had just addressed us;and the plate paused before the Lossing pew, Harry slipped his hand intohis waistcoat pocket after those two five-dollar notes.
I should explain that Harry being a naturally left-handed boy, who haslaboriously taught himself the use of his right hand, it is a familyjoke that he is like the inhabitants of Nineveh, who could nottell their right hand from their left. But Harry himself has alwaysmaintained that he can tell as well as the next man.
Out drifted the flock of choir-boys singing, "For thee, oh dear, dearcountry," and presently, following them, out drifted the congregation;among the crowd the girl that Harry loved, not so quickly that he hadnot time for a look and a smile (just tinged with rose); and because shewas so sweet, so good, so altogether adorable, and because she had notonly smiled but blushed, and, unobserved, he had touched the fur of herjacket, the young man walked on air.
He did not remember the Saint Bernards until after the early Sundaydinner, and during the after-dinner cigar. He was sitting in thelibrary, before some blazing logs, at peace with all the world. To him,thus, came his mother and announced that the dean and "that man whopreached this morning, you know," were waiting in the other room.
"They seem excited," said she, "and talk about your munificence. WhatHAVE you been doing?"
"Appear to make a great deal of fuss over ten dollars," said Harry,lightly, as he sauntered out of the door.
The dean greeted him with something almost like confusion in hiscordiality; he introduced his companion as the Rev. Mr. Gilling.
"Mr. Gilling could not feel easy until he had----"
"Made sure about there being no mistake," interrupted Mr. Gilling;"I--the sum was so great------"
A ghastly suspicion shot like a fever-flush over Harry's mind. Could itbe possible? There were the two other bills; could he have given one ofthem? Given that howling dervish a hundred dollars? The thought was tooawful!
"It was really not enough for you to trouble yourself," he said; "I daresay you are thanking the wrong man." He felt he must say something.
To his surprise the dean colored, while the other clergyman answered, inall simplicity:
"No, sir, no, sir. I know very well. The only other bill, exceptdollars, on the plate, the dean here gave, and the warden remembers thatyou put in two notes--I"--he grew quite pale--"I can't help thinking youmaybe intended to put in only ONE!" His voice broke, he tried to controlit. "The sum is so VERY large!" quavered he.
"I have given him BOTH bills, two hundred dollars!" thought Harry. Hesat down. He was accustomed to read men's faces, and plainly as everhe had read, he could read the signs of distress and conflict on theprosaic, dull features before him.
"I INTENDED to put in two bills," said he. Gilling gave a littlegasp--so little, only a quick ear could have caught it; but Harry'sear is quick. He twisted one leg around the other, a further sign ofdeliverance of mind.
"Well, sir, well, Mr. Lossing," he remarked, clearing his throat,"I cannot express to you properly the--the appreciation I have ofyour--your PRINCELY gift!" (Harry changed a groan into a cough and triedto smile.) "I would like to ask you, however, HOW you would like it tobe divided. There are a number of worthy causes: the furnishing of thechurch, which is in charge of the Ladies' Aid Society; they are veryhard workers, the ladies of our church. And there is the Altar Guild,which has the keeping of the altar in order. They are mostly younggirls, and they used to wash my things--I mean the vestments"(blushing)--"but they--they were so young they were not careful, and mywife thought she had best wash the--vestments herself, but sheallowed them to laundry the other--ah, things." There was the samediscursiveness in his talk as in his sermon, Harry thought; and thesame uneasy restlessness of manner. "Then, we give to--various causes,and--and there is, also, my own salary----"
"That is what it was intended for," said Harry. "I hope the two hundreddollars will be of some use to you, and then, indirectly, it will helpyour church."
Harry surprised a queer glance from the dean's brown eyes; there wasboth humor and a something else that was solemn enough in it. The deanhad believed that there was a mistake.
"All of it! To ME!" cried Gilling.
"All of it. To YOU," Harry replied, dryly. He was conscious of thedean's gaze upon him. "I had a sudden impulse," said he, "and I gave it;that is all."
The tears rose to the clergyman's eyes; he tried to wink them away, thenhe tried to brush them away with a quick rub of his fingers, then hesprang up and walked to the window, his back to Harry. Directly he wasfacing the young man again, and speaking.
"You must excuse me, Mr. Lossing; since my sickness a little thingupsets me."
"Mr. Gilling had diphtheria last spring," the dean struck in, "there wasan epidemic of diphtheria, in Matin's Junction; Mr. Gilling really savedthe place; but his wife and he both contracted the disease, and his wifenearly died."
Harry remembered some story that he had heard at the time--his eyesbegan to light up as they do when he is moved.
"Why, YOU are the man that made them disinfect their houses," cried he,"and invented a little oven or something to steam mattresses and things.You are the man that nursed them and buried them when the undertakerdied. You digged graves with your own hands--I say, I should like toshake hands with you!"
Gilling shook hands, submissively, but looking bewildered.
He cleared his throat. "Would you mind, Mr. Lossing, if I took up yourtime so far as to tell you what so overcame me?"
"I should be glad----"
"You see, sir, my wife was the daughter of the Episcopal minister--Imean the rector, at the town--well, it wasn't a town, it was two orthree towns off in Shelby County where I had my circuit. You may besurprised, sir, to know that I was once a Methodist minister."
&n
bsp; "Is it possible?" said Harry.
"Yes, sir. Her father--my wife's, I mean--was about as high a churchmanas he could be, and be married. He induced me to join our communion; andvery soon after I was married. I hope, Mr. Lossing, you'll come and seeus some time, and see my wife. She--are you married?"
"I am not so fortunate."
"A good wife cometh from the Lord, sir, SURE! I thought I appreciatedmine, but I guess I didn't. She had two things she wanted, and one Idid want myself; but the other--I couldn't seem to bring my mind to it,no--anyhow! We hadn't any children but one that died four years ago,a little baby. Ever since she died my wife has had a longing to havea stained-glass window, with the picture, you know, of Christ blessinglittle children, put into our little church. In Memoriam, you know.Seems as if, now we've lost the baby, we think all the more of thechurch. Maybe she was a sort of idol to us. Yes, sir, that's one thingmy wife fairly longed for. We've saved our money, what we COULD save;there are so many calls; during the sickness, last winter, the sickneeded so many things, and it didn't seem right for us to neglect themjust for our baby's window; and--the money went. The other thing wasdifferent. My wife has got it into her head I have a fine voice. Andshe's higher church than I am; so she has always wanted me to INTONE. Itold her I'd look like a fool intoning, and there's no mistake aboutit, I DO! But she couldn't see it that way. It was 'most the only pointwherein we differed; and last spring, when she was so sick, and I didn'tknow but I'd lose her, it was dreadful to me to think how I'dcrossed her. So, Mr. Lossing, when she got well I promised her, for athank-offering, I'd intone. And I have ever since. My people know me sowell, and we've been through so much together, that they didn't make anyfuss--though they are not high--fact is, I'm not high myself. But theywere kind and considerate, and I got on pretty well at home; but whenI came to rise up in that great edifice, before that cultured andintellectual audience, so finely dressed, it did seem to me I could NOTdo it! I was sorely tempted to break my promise. I was, for a fact." Hedrew a long breath. "I just had to pray for grace, or I never would havepulled through. I had the sermon my wife likes best with me; but I knowit lacks--it lacks--it isn't what you need! I was dreadfully scared andI felt miserable when I got up to preach it--and then to think that youwere--but it is the Lord's doing and marvellous in our eyes! I don'tknow what Maggie will say when I tell her we can get the window. Thebest she hoped was I'd bring back enough so the church could pay meeighteen dollars they owe on my salary. And now--it's wonderful! Why,Mr. Lossing, I've been thinking so much and wanting so to get thatwindow for her, that, hearing the dean wanted some car-pentering done, Ithought maybe, as I'm a fair carpenter--that was my trade once, sir--I'dask him to let ME do the job. I was aware there is nothing in ourrules--I mean our canons--to prevent me, and nobody need know I was therector of Matin's Junction, because I would come just in my overalls.There is a cheap place where I could lodge, and I could feed myself foralmost nothing, living is so cheap. I was praying about that, too.Now, your noble generosity will enable me to donate what they owe on mysalary, and get the window too!"
"Take my advice," said Harry, "donate nothing. Say nothing about thisgift; I will take care of the warden, and I can answer for the dean."
"Yes," said the dean, "on the whole, Gilling, you would better saynothing, I think; Mr. Lossing is more afraid of a reputation forgenerosity than of the small-pox."
The older man looked at Harry with glistening eyes of admiration; withwhat Christian virtues of humility he was endowing that embarrassedyoung man, it is painful to imagine.
The dean's eyes twinkled above his handkerchief, which hid his mouth, ashe rose to make his farewells. He shook hands, warmly. "God bless you,Harry," said he. Gilling, too, wrung Harry's hands; he was seeking someparting word of gratitude, but he could only choke out, "I hope you willget MARRIED some time, Mr. Lossing, then you'll understand."
"Well," said Harry, as the door closed, and he flung out his arms andhis chest in a huge sigh, "I do believe it was better than the puppies!"
HARRY LOSSING
THE note-book of Mr. Horatio Armorer, president of our street railways,contained a page of interest to some people in our town, on the occasionof his last visit.
He wrote it while the train creaked over the river, and the porter ofhis Pullman car was brushing all the dust that had been distributed onthe passengers' clothing, into the main aisle.
If you had seen him writing it (with a stubby little pencil that heoccasionally brightened with the tip of his tongue), you would not havedreamed him to be more profoundly disturbed than he had been in years.Nor would the page itself have much enlightened you.
"_See abt road M-- D-- See L See E & M tea-set See abt L_."
Translated into long-hand, this reads: "See about the street-car road,Marston (the superintendent) and Dane (the lawyer). See Lossing, seeEsther and Maggie, and remember about tea-set. See about Lossing."
His memoranda written, he slipped the book in his pocket, reflectingcynically, "There's habit! I've no need of writing that. It's notpleasant enough to forget!"
Thirty odd years ago, Horatio Armorer--they called him 'Raish, then--hadleft the town to seek his fortune in Chicago. It was his daydream towrestle a hundred thousand dollars out of the world's tight fists, andreturn to live in pomp on Brady Street hill! He should drive a buggywith two horses, and his wife should keep two girls. Long ago, thehundred thousand limit had been reached and passed, next the million;and still he did not return. His father, the Presbyterian minister, lefthis parish, or, to be exact, was gently propelled out of his parish bythe disaffected; the family had a new home; and the son, struggling tohelp them out of his scanty resources, went to the new parish and notto the old. He grew rich, he established his brothers and sisters inprosperity, he erected costly monuments and a memorial church to hisparents (they were beyond any other gifts from him); he married, andlavished his money on three daughters; but the home of his youth neithersaw him nor his money until Margaret Ellis bought a house on BradyStreet, far up town, where she could have all the grass that she wanted.Mrs. Ellis was a widow and rich. Not a millionaire like her brother, butthe possessor of a handsome property.
She was the best-natured woman in the world, and never guessed how hardher neighbors found it to forgive her for always calling their town ofthirty thousand souls, "the country." She said that she had pined foryears to live in the country, and have horses, and a Jersey cow andchickens, and "a neat pig." All of which modest cravings she gratifiedon her little estate; and the gardener was often seen with a scowl andthe garden hose, keeping the pig neat.
It was later that Mr. Armorer had bought the street railways, theyhaving had a troublous history and being for sale cheap. Nobody thatknows Armorer as a business man would back his sentiment by so muchas an old shoe; yet it was sentiment, and not a good bargain, that hadenticed the financier. Once engaged, the instincts of a shrewd traderprompted him to turn it into a good bargain, anyhow. His fancy waspleased by a vision of a return to the home of his childhood and hisstruggling youth, as a greater personage than his hopes had ever daredpromise.
But, in the event, there was little enough gratification for his vanity.Not since his wife's death had he been so harassed and anxious; for hecame not in order to view his new property, but because his sisterhad written him her suspicions that Harry Lossing wanted to marry hisyoungest daughter.
Armorer arrived in the early dawn. Early as it was, a handsome victoria,with horses sleeker of skin and harness heavier and brighter than oneis used to meet outside the great cities, had been in waiting for twentyminutes; while for that space of time a pretty girl had paced up anddown the platform. The keenest observer among the crowd, airing its meekimpatience on the platform, did not detect any sign of anxiety in herbehavior. She walked erect, with a step that left a clean-cut footprintin the dust, as girls are trained to walk nowadays. Her tailor-madegown of fine blue serge had not a wrinkle. It was so simple that onlya fashionable woman could
guess anywhere near the awful sum total whichthat plain skirt, that short jacket, and that severe waistcoat had oncemade on a ruled sheet of paper. When she turned her face toward the low,red station-house and the people, it looked gentle, and the least in theworld sad. She had one of those clear olive skins that easily grow pale;it was pale to-day. Her black hair was fine as spun silk; the coil underher hat-brim shone as she moved. The fine hair, the soft, transparentskin, and the beautiful marking of her brows were responsible for an airof fragile daintiness in her person, just as her almond-shaped,liquid dark eyes and unsmiling mouth made her look sad. It was a mostattractive face, in all its moods; sometimes it was a beautiful face;yet it did not have a single perfect feature except the mouth, which--atleast so Harry Lossing told his mother--might have been stolen from theVenus of Milo. Even the mouth, some critics called too small for hernose; but it is as easy to call her nose too large for her mouth.
The instant she turned her back on the bustle of the station, all thelines in her face seemed to waver and the eyes to brighten. Finally,when the train rolled up to the platform and a young-looking elderly manswung himself nimbly off the steps, the color flared up in her cheeks,only to sink as suddenly; like a candle flame in a gust of wind.
Mr. Armorer put his two arms and his umbrella and travelling-bag aboutthe charming shape in blue, at the same time exclaiming, "You're a goodgirl to come out so early, Essie! How's Aunt Meg?"
"Oh, very well. She would have come too, but she hasn't come back fromtraining."
"Training?"
"Yes, dear, she has a regular trainer, like John L. Sullivan, you know.She drives out to the park with Eliza and me, and walks and runs races,and does gymnastics. She has lost ten pounds."
Armorer wagged his head with a grin: "I dare say. I thought so when youbegan. Meg is always moaning and groaning because she isn't a sylph!She will make her cook's life a burden for about two months and lose tenpounds, and then she will revel in ice-cream! Last time, she was ravingabout Dr. Salisbury and living on beefsteak sausages, spending a fortunestarving herself."
"She had Dr. Salisbury's pamphlet; but Cardigan told her it was a longway out; so she said she hated to have it do no one any good, and shegave it to Maria, one of the maids, who is always fretting because sheis so thin."
"But the thing was to cure fat people!"
"Precisely." Esther laughed a little low laugh, at which her father'seyes shone; "but you see she told Maria to exactly reverse the adviceand eat everything that was injurious to stout people, and it would bejust right for her."
"I perceive," said Armorer, dryly; "very ingenious and feminine scheme.But who is Cardigan?"
"Shuey Cardigan? He is the trainer. He is a fireman in a furniture shop,now; but he used to be the boxing teacher for some Harvard men; and hewas a distinguished pugilist, once. He said to me, modestly, 'I don'tsuppose you will have seen my name in the _Police Gazette_, miss?' Buthe really is a very sober, decent man, notwithstanding."
"Your Aunt Meg always was picking up queer birds! Pray, who introducedthis decent pugilist?"
Esther was getting into the carriage; her face was turned from him, buthe could see the pink deepen in her ear and the oval of her cheek. Sheanswered that it was a friend of theirs, Mr. Lossing. As if the name hadstruck them both dumb, neither spoke for a few moments. Armorer bit asigh in two. "Essie," said he, "I guess it is no use to side-track thesubject. You know why I came here, don't you?"
"Aunt Meg told me what she wrote to you."
"I knew she would. She had compunctions of conscience letting him hanground you, until she told me; and then she had awful gripes because shehad told, and had to confess to YOU!"
He continued in a different tone: "Essie, I have missed your mothera long while, and nobody knows how that kind of missing hurts; but itseems to me I never missed her as I do to-day. I need her to advise meabout you, Essie. It is like this: I don't want to be a stern parentany more than you want to elope on a rope ladder. We have got to lookat this thing together, my dear little girl, and try to--to trust eachother."
"Don't you think, papa," said Esther, smiling rather tremulously, "thatwe would better wait, before we have all these solemn preparations,until we know surely whether Mr. Lossing wants me?"
"Don't you know surely?"
"He has never said anything of--of that--kind."
"Oh, he is in love with you fast enough," growled Armorer; but a smileof intense relief brightened his face. "Now, you see, my dear, all Iknow about this young man, except that he wants my daughter--which youwill admit is not likely to prejudice me in his favor--is that he ismayor of this town and has a furniture store----"
"A manufactory; it is a very large business!"
"All right, manufactory, then; all the same he is not a brilliant matchfor my daughter, not such a husband as your sisters have." Esther's lipquivered and her color rose again; but she did not speak. "Still I willsay that I think a fellow who can make his own fortune is better thana man with twice that fortune made for him. My dear, if Lossing has theright stuff in him and he is a real good fellow, I shan't make you gointo a decline by objecting; but you see it is a big shock to me, andyou must let me get used to it, and let me size the young man up in myown way. There is another thing, Esther; I am going to Europe Thursday,that will give me just a day in Chicago if I go to-morrow, and I wishyou would come with me. Will you mind?"
Either she changed her seat or she started at the proposal. But howcould she say that she wanted to stay in America with a man who had notsaid a formal word of love to her? "I can get ready, I think, papa,"said Esther.
They drove on. He felt a crawling pain in his heart, for he loved hisdaughter Esther as he had loved no other child of his; and he knew thathe had hurt her. Naturally, he grew the more angry at the impertinentyoung man who was the cause of the flitting; for the whole European planhad been cooked up since the receipt of Mrs. Ellis's letter. They wereon the very street down which he used to walk (for it takes the line ofthe hills) when he was a poor boy, a struggling, ferociously ambitiousyoung man. He looked at the changed rows of buildings, and otherthoughts came uppermost for a moment. "It was here father's church usedto stand; it's gone, now," he said. "It was a wood church, painted akind of gray; mother had a bonnet the same color, and she used to sayshe matched the church. I bought it with the very first money I earned.Part of it came from weeding, and the weather was warm, and I can feelthe way my back would sting and creak, now! I would want to stop, often,but I thought of mother in church with that bonnet, and I kept on!There's the place where Seeds, the grocer that used to trust us, hadhis store; it was his children had the scarlet fever, and mother wentto nurse them. My! but how dismal it was at home! We always got morewhippings when mother was away. Your grandfather was a good man, toohonest for this world, and he loved every one of his seven children;but he brought us up to fear him and the Lord. We feared him the most,because the Lord couldn't whip us! He never whipped us when we didanything, but waited until next day, that he might not punish in anger;so we had all the night to anticipate it. Did I ever tell you of thetime he caught me in a lie? I was lame for a week after it. He nevercaught me in another lie."
"I think he was cruel; I can't help it, papa," cried Esther, with whomthis was an old argument, "still it did good, that time!"
"Oh, no, he wasn't cruel, my dear," said Armorer, with a queer smilethat seemed to take only one-half of his face, not answering the lastwords; "he was too sure of his interpretation of the Scripture, that wasall. Why, that man just slaved to educate us children; he'd have goneto the stake rejoicing to have made sure that we should be saved. And ofthe whole seven only one is a church member. Is that the road?"
They could see a car swinging past, on a parallel street, its bent polehitching along the trolley-wire.
"Pretty scrubby-looking cars," commented Armorer; "but get our newordinance through the council, we can save enough to afford some finenew cars. Has Lossing said anything to you about the ordinance and
ourpetition to be allowed to leave off the conductors?"
"He hasn't said anything, but I read about it in the papers. Is it sovery important that it should be passed?"
"Saving money is always important, my dear," said Armorer, seriously.
The horses turned again. They were now opposite a fair lawn and ahouse of wood and stone built after the old colonial pattern, as modernarchitects see it. Esther pointed, saying:
"Aunt Meg's, papa; isn't it pretty?"
"Very handsome, very fine," said the financier, who knew nothing aboutarchitecture, except its exceeding expense. "Esther, I've a notion; ifthat young man of yours has brains and is fond of you he ought to beable to get my ordinance through his little eight by ten city council.There is our chance to see what stuff he is made of!"
"Oh, he has a great deal of influence," said Esther; "he can do it,unless--unless he thinks the ordinance would be bad for the city, youknow."
"Confound the modern way of educating girls!" thought Armorer. "Now, itwould have been enough for Esther's mother to know that anything was formy interests; it wouldn't have to help all out-doors, too!"
But instead of enlarging on this point, he went into a sketch of theimprovements the road could make with the money saved by the change,and was waxing eloquent when a lady of a pleasant and comely face, and atrig though not slender figure, advanced to greet them.
It was after breakfast (and the scene was the neat pig's pen, whereArmorer was displaying his ignorance of swine) that he found his firstchance to talk with his sister alone. "Oh, first, Sis," said he, "aboutyour birthday, to-day; I telegraphed to Tiffany's for that silverservice, you know, that you liked, so you needn't think there's amistake when it comes."
"Oh, 'Raish, that gorgeous thing! I must kiss you, if Daniel does seeme!"
"Oh, that's all right," said Armorer, hastily, and began to talk ofthe pig. Suddenly, without looking up, he dropped into the pig-pen theremark: "I'm very much obliged to you for writing me, Meg."
"I don't know whether to feel more like a virtuous sister or a villanousaunt," sighed Mrs. Ellis; "things seemed to be getting on so rapidlythat it didn't seem right, Esther visiting me and all, not to give you ahint; still, I am sure that nothing has been said, and it is horrid forEsther, perfectly HORRID, discussing her proposals that haven't beenproposed!"
"I don't want them ever to be proposed," said Armorer, gloomily.
"I know you always said you didn't want Esther to marry; but I thoughtif she fell in love with the right man--we know that marriage is a veryhappy estate, sometimes, Horatio!" She sighed again. In her case itwas only the memory of happiness, for Colonel Ellis had been dead thesetwelve years; but his widow mourned him still.
"If you marry the right one, maybe," answered Armorer, grudgingly;"but see here, Meg, Esther is different from the other girls; they gotmarried when Jenny was alive to look after them, and I knew the men, andthey were both big matches, you know. Then, too, I was so busy makingmoney while the other girls grew up that I hadn't time to get real wellacquainted with them. I don't think they ever kissed me, except when Igave them a check. But Esther and I----" he drummed with his fingers onthe boards, his thin, keen face wearing a look that would have amazedhis business acquaintances--"you remember when her mother died, Meg?Only fifteen, and how she took hold of things! And we have been togetherever since, and she makes me think of her grandmother and her motherboth. She's never had a wish I knew that I haven't granted--why, d----it! I've bought my clothes to please her----"
"That's why you are become so well-dressed, Horatio; I wondered how youcame to spruce up so!" interrupted Mrs. Ellis.
"It has been so blamed lonesome whenever she went to visit you, but yetI wouldn't say a word because I knew what a good time she had; but if Ihad known that there was a confounded, long-legged, sniffy young idiotall that while trying to steal my daughter away from me!" In an accessof wrath at the idea Armorer wrenched off the picket that he clutched,at which he laughed and stuck his hands in his pockets.
"Why, Meg, the papers and magazines are always howling that women won'tmarry," cried he, with a fresh sense of grievance; "now, two of my girlshave married, that's enough; there was no reason for me to expect anymore of them would! There isn't one d---- bit of need for Esther tomarry!"
"But if she loves the young fellow and he loves her, won't you let thembe happy?"
"He won't make her happy."
"He is a very good fellow, truly and really, 'Raish. And he comes of agood family----"
"I don't care for his family; and as to his being moral and all that, Iknow several young fellows that could skin him alive in a bargainthat are moral as you please. I have been a moral man, myself. But thetrouble with this Lossing (I told Esther I didn't know anything abouthim, but I do), the trouble with him is that he is chock full of allkinds of principles! Just as father was. Don't you remember how he lostparish after parish because he couldn't smooth over the big men in them?Lossing is every bit as pig-headed. I am not going to have my daughterlead the kind of life my mother did. I want a son-in-law who ain't goingto think himself so much better than I am, and be rowing me for my wayof doing business. If Esther MUST marry I'd like her to marry a man witha head on him that I can take into business, and who will be willing tolive with the old man. This Lossing has got his notions of making a sortof Highland chief affair of the labor question, and we should get alongabout as well as the Kilkenny cats!"
Mrs. Ellis knew more than Esther about Armorer's business methods,having the advantage of her husband's point of view; and Colonel Ellishad kept the army standard of honor as well as the army ignorance ofbusiness. To counterbalance, she knew more than anyone alive what a goodson and brother Horatio had always been. But she could not restrain asmile at the picture of the partnership.
"Precisely, you see yourself," said Armorer. "Meg"--hesitating--"youdon't suppose it would be any use to offer Esther a cool hundredthousand to promise to bounce this young fellow?"
"Horatio, NO!" cried Mrs. Ellis, tossing her pretty gray headindignantly; "you'd insult her!"
"Take it the same way, eh? Well, perhaps; Essie has high-toned notions.That's all right, it is the thing for women. Mother had them too. Lookhere, Meg, I'll tell you, I want to see if this young fellow has ANYsense! We have an ordinance that we want passed. If he will get hiscouncil to pass it, that will show he can put his grand theories intohis pockets sometimes; and I will give him a show with Esther. If hedoesn't care enough for my girl to oblige her father, even if he doesn'tplease a lot of carping roosters that want the earth for their town andwould like a street railway to be run to accommodate them and lose moneyfor the stockholders, well, then, you can't blame me if I don't wanthim! Now, will you do one thing for me, Meg, to help me out? I don'twant Lossing to persuade Esther to commit herself; you know how, whenshe was a little mite, if Esther gave her word she kept it. I wantyou to promise me you won't let Esther be alone one second with youngLossing. She is going to-morrow, but there's your whist-party to-night;I suppose he's coming? And I want you to promise you won't let him haveour address. If he treats me square, he won't need to ask you for it.Well?"
He buttoned up his coat and folded his arms, waiting.
Mrs. Ellis's sympathy had gone out to the young people as naturally aswater runs down hill; for she is of a romantic temperament, though shedoesn't dare to be weighed. But she remembered the silver service, thecoffee-pot, the tea-pot, the tray for spoons, the creamer, the hot-waterkettle, the sugar-bowl, all on a rich salver, splendid, dazzling; whatrank ingratitude it would be to oppose her generous brother! Rathersadly she answered, but she did answer: "I'll do that much for you,'Raish, but I feel we're risking Esther's happiness, and I can only keepthe letter of my promise."
"That's all I ask, my dear," said Armorer, taking out a little shabbynote-book from his breast-pocket, and scratching out a line. The lineeffaced read:
"_See E & M tea-set_."
"The silver service was a good muzzle," he thought. He w
ent away foran interview with the corporation lawyer and the superintendent of theroad, leaving Mrs. Ellis in a distraction of conscience that made herthe wonder of her servants that morning, during all the preparations forthe whist-party. She might have felt more remorseful had she guessedher brother's real plan. He knew enough of Lossing to be assured thathe would not yield about the ordinance, which he firmly believed to bea dangerous one for the city. He expected, he counted on the mayor'srefusing his proffers. He hoped that Esther would feel the sympathywhich women give, without question generally, to the business plans ofthose near and dear to them, taking it for granted that the plans areright because they will advantage those so near and dear. That was thebeautiful and proper way that Jenny had always reasoned; why shouldJenny's daughter do otherwise? When Harry Lossing should opposeher father and refuse to please him and to win her, mustn't anyhigh-spirited woman feel hurt? Certainly she must; and he would takecare to whisk her off to Europe before the young man had a chance tomake his peace! "Yes, sir," says Armorer, to his only confidant, "younever were a domestic conspirator before, Horatio, but you have got itdown fine! You would do for Gaboriau"--Gaboriau's novels being the onlyfiction that ever Armorer read. Nevertheless, his conscience prickedhim almost as sharply as his sister's pricked her. Consciences are queerthings; like certain crustaceans, they grow shells in spots; and, proofagainst moral artillery in one part, they may be soft as a baby's cheekin another. Armorer's conscience had two sides, business and domestic;people abused him for a business buccaneer, at the same time his privatelife was pure, and he was a most tender husband and father. He had neverdeceived Esther before in her life. Once he had ridden all night in afreight-car to keep a promise that he had made the child. It hurt him tobe hoodwinking her now. But he was too angry and too frightened to cryback.
The interview with the lawyer did not take any long time, but he spenttwo hours with the superintendent of the road, who pronounced him "alittle nice fellow with no airs about him. Asked a power of questionsabout Harry Lossing; guess there is something in that story aboutLossing going to marry his daughter!"
Marston drove him to Lossing's office and left him there.
He was on the ground, and Marston lifting the whip to touch the horse,when he asked: "Say, before you go--is there any danger in leaving offthe conductors?"
Marston was raised on mules, and he could not overcome a vehementdistrust of electricity. "Well," said he, "I guess you want the coldfacts. The children are almighty thick down on Third Street, andchildren are always trying to see how near they can come to beingkilled, you know, sir; and then, the old women like to come and stand onthe track and ask questions of the motorneer on the other track, so thatthe car coming down has a chance to catch 'em. The two together keep theconductors on the jump!"
"Is that so?" said Armorer, musingly; "well, I guess you'd better closewith that insurance man and get the papers made out before we run thenew way."
"If we ever do run!" muttered the superintendent to himself as he droveaway.
Armorer ran his sharp eye over the buildings of the Lossing ArtFurniture Manufacturing Company, from the ugly square brick box that wasthe nucleus--the egg, so to speak--from which the great concern had beenhatched, to the handsome new structures with their great arched windowsand red mortar. "Pretty property, very pretty property," thoughtArmorer; "wonder if that story Marston tells is true!" The story was tothe effect that a few weeks before his last sickness the older Lossinghad taken his son to look at the buildings, and said, "Harry, this willall be yours before long. It is a comfort to me to think that everyworkman I have is the better, not the worse, off for my owning it;there's no blood or dirt on my money; and I leave it to you to keep itclean and to take care of the men as well as the business."
"Now, wasn't he a d---- fool!" said Armorer, cheerfully, taking out hisnote-book to mark.
"_See abt road M--D--_"
And he went in. Harry greeted him with exceeding cordiality and a fineblush. Armorer explained that he had come to speak to him about theproposed street-car ordinances; he (Armorer) always liked to deal withprincipals and without formality; now, couldn't they come, representingthe city and the company, to some satisfactory compromise? Thereuponhe plunged into the statistics of the earnings and expenses of the road(with the aid of his note-book), and made the absolute necessity ofretrenchment plain. Meanwhile, as he talked he studied the attentivelistener before him; and Harry, on his part, made quite as good use ofhis eyes. Armorer saw a tall, athletic, fair young man, very carefully,almost foppishly dressed, with bright, steady blue eyes and a firm chin,but a smile under his mustache like a child's; it was so sunny and soquick. Harry saw a neat little figure in a perfectly fitting graycheck travelling suit, with a rose in the buttonhole of the coat lapel.Armorer wore no jewellery except a gold ring on the little finger of hisright hand, from which he had taken the glove the better to write. Harryknew that it was his dead wife's wedding-ring; and noticed it witha little moving of the heart. The face that he saw was pale but notsickly, delicate and keen. A silky brown mustache shot with gray anda Van-dyke beard hid either the strength or the weakness of mouth andchin. He looked at Harry with almond-shaped, pensive dark eyes, so likethe eyes that had shone on Harry's waking and sleeping dreams for monthsthat the young fellow felt his heart rise again. Armorer ended by askingHarry (in his most winning manner) to help him pull the ordinance out ofthe fire. "It would be," he said, impressively, "a favor he should notforget!"
"And you must know, Mr. Armorer," said Harry, in a dismal tone at whichthe president chuckled within, "that there is no man whose favor I woulddo so much to win!"
"Well, here's your chance!" said Armorer.
Harry swung round in his chair, his clinched fists on his knee. He wasfrowning with eagerness, and his eyes were like blue steel.
"See here, Mr. Armorer," said he, "I am frank with you. I want to pleaseyou, because I want to ask you to let me marry your daughter. But ICAN'T please you, because I am mayor of this town, and I don't dare tolet you dismiss the conductors. I don't DARE, that's the point. We havehad four children killed on this road since electricity was put in."
"We have had forty killed on one street railway I know; what of it? Doyou want to give up electricity because it kills children?"
"No, but look here! the conductors lessen the risk. A lady I know,only yesterday, had a little boy going from the kindergarten home, nicelittle fellow only five years old----"
"She ought to have sent a nurse with a child five years old, a baby!"cried Armorer, warmly.
"That lady," answered Harry, quietly, "goes without any servant at allin order to keep her two children at the kindergarten; and the boy'selder sister was ill at home. The boy got on the car, and when he gotoff at the crossing above his house, he started to run across; the othertrain-car was coming, the little fellow didn't notice, and ran to cross;he stumbled and fell right in the path of the coming car!"
"Where was the conductor? He didn't seem much good!"
"They had left off the conductor on that line."
"Well, did they run over the boy? Why haven't I been informed of theaccident?"
"There was no accident. A man on the front platform saw the boy fall,made a flying leap off the moving car, fell, but scrambled up and pulledthe boy off the track. It was sickening; I thought we were both gone!"
"Oh, you were the man?"
"I was the man; and don't you see, Mr. Armorer, why I feel strongly onthe subject? If the conductor had been on, there wouldn't have been anyoccasion for any accident."
"Well, sir, you may be assured that we will take precautions againstany such accidents. It is more for our interest than anyone's to guardagainst them. And I have explained to you the necessity of cutting downour expense list."
"That is just it, you think you have to risk our lives to cut downexpenses; but we get all the risk and none of the benefits. I can't seemy way clear to helping you, sir; I wish I could."
"Then there is nothing more to s
ay, Mr. Lossing," said Armorer, coldly."I'm sorry a mere sentiment that has no real foundation should stand inthe way of our arranging a deal that would be for the advantage of boththe city and our road." He rose.
Harry rose also, but lifted his hand to arrest the financier. "Pardonme, there is something else; I wouldn't mention it, but I hear youare going to leave to-morrow and go abroad with--Miss Armorer. I amconscious I haven't introduced myself very favorably, by refusing you afavor when I want to ask the greatest one possible; but I hope, sir, youwill not think the less of a man because he is not willing to sacrificethe interests of the people who trust him, to please ANYONE. I--I hopeyou will not object to my asking Miss Armorer to marry me," concludedHarry, very hot and shaky, and forgetting the beginning of his sentencesbefore he came to the end.
"Does my daughter love you, do I understand, Mr. Lossing?"
"I don't know, sir. I wish I did."
"Well, Mr. Lossing," said Armorer, wishing that something in the youngman's confusion would not remind him of the awful moment when he askedold Forrester for his Jenny, "I am afraid I can do nothing for you. Ifyou have too nice a conscience to oblige me, I am afraid it will be toonice to let you get on in the world. Good-morning."
"Stop a minute," said Harry; "if it is only my ability to get on in theworld that is the trouble, I think------"
"It is your love for my daughter," said Armorer; "if you don't love herenough to give up a sentimental notion for her, to win her, I don't seebut you must lose her, I bid you good-morning, sir."
"Not quite yet, sir"--Harry jumped before the door; "you give me thealternative of being what I call dishonorable or losing the woman Ilove!" He pronounced the last word with a little effort and his lipsclosed sharply as his teeth shut under them. "Well, I decline thealternative. I shall try to do my duty and get the wife I want, BOTH."
"Well, you give me fair warning, don't you?" said Armorer.
Harry held out his hand, saying, "I am sorry that I detained you. Ididn't mean to be rude." There was something boyish and simple about theaction and the tone, and Armorer laughed. As Harry attended him throughthe outer office to the door, he complimented the shops.
"Miss Armorer and Mrs. Ellis have promised to give me the pleasure ofshowing them to them this afternoon," said Harry; "can't I show them andpart of our city to you, also? It has changed a good deal since you leftit."
The remark threw Armorer off his balance; for a rejected suitor thisyoung man certainly kept an even mind. But he had all the helplessnessof the average American with regard to his daughter's amusements. Thehumor in the situation took him; and it cannot be denied that he beganto have a vivid curiosity about Harry. In less time than it takes toread it, his mind had swung round the circle of these various points ofview, and he had blandly accepted Harry's invitation. But he mopped awarm and furrowed brow, outside, and drew a prodigious sigh as he openedthe note-book in his hand and crossed out, "_See L._" "That young fellowain't all conscience," said he, "not by a long shot."
He found Mrs. Ellis very apologetic about the Lossing engagement. It wasmade through the telephone; Esther had been anxious to have her fathermeet Lossing; Lossing was to drive them there, and later show Mr.Armorer the town.
"Mr. Lossing is a very clever young man, very," said Armorer, gravely,as he went out to smoke his cigar after luncheon. He wished he hadstayed, however, when he returned to find that a visitor had called, andthat this visitor was the mother of the little boy that Harry Lossinghad saved from the car. The two women gave him the accident in full, andwere lavish of harrowing detail, including the mother's feelings. "Soyou see, 'Raish," urged Mrs. Ellis, timidly, "there is some reason foropposition to the ordinance."
Esther's cheeks were red and her eyes shone, but she had not spoken. Herfather put his arm around her waist and kissed her hair. "And what didyou say, Essie," he asked, gently, "to all the criticisms?"
"I told her I thought you would find some way to protect the childreneven if the conductors were taken off; you didn't enjoy the slaughter ofchildren any more than anyone else."
"I guess we can fix it. Here is your young man."
Harry drove a pair of spirited horses. He drove well, and looked bothhandsome and happy.
"Did you know that lady--the mother of the boy that wasn't run over--wascoming to see my sister?" said Armorer, on the way.
"I did," said Harry, "I sent her; I thought she could explain the reasonwhy I shall have to oppose the bill, better than I."
Armorer made no reply.
At the shops he kept his eye on the young man. Harry seemed to knowmost of his workmen, and had a nod or a word for all the older men. Hestopped several moments to talk with one old German who complained ofeverything, but looked after Harry with a smile, nodding his head. "Thatman, Lieders, is our best workman; you can't get any better work in thecountry," said he. "I want you to see an armoire that he has carved, itis up in our exhibition room."
Armorer said, "You seem to get on very well with your working people,Mr. Lossing."
"I think we generally get on well with them, and they do wellthemselves, in these Western towns. For one thing, we haven't muchorganization to fight, and for another thing, the individual workman hasa better chance to rise. That man Lieders, whom you saw, is worth a goodmany thousand dollars; my father invested his savings for him."
"You are one of the philanthropists, aren't you, Mr. Lossing, who aretrying to elevate the laboring classes?"
"Not a bit of it, sir. I shall never try to elevate the laboringclasses; it is too big a contract. But I try as hard as I know how tohave every man who has worked for Harry Lossing the better for it. Idon't concern myself with any other laboring men."
Just then a murmur of exclamations came from Mrs. Ellis and Esther, whomthe superintendent was piloting through the shops. "Oh, no, it is tooheavy; oh, don't do it, Mr. Cardigan!" "Oh, we can see it perfectly wellfrom here! PLEASE don't, you will break yourself somewhere!" Mrs. Ellisshrieked this; but the shrieks turned to a murmur of admiration as ahuge carved sideboard came bobbing and wobbling, like an intoxicatedpiece of furniture in a haunted house, toward the two gentlewomen.Immediately, a short but powerfully built man, whose red face beamedabove his dusty shoulders like a full moon with a mustache, emerged, andwaved his hand at the sideboard.
"I could tackle the two of them, begging your pardon, ladies."
"That's Cardigan," explained Harry, "Miss Armorer may have told youabout him. Oh, SHUEY!"
Cardigan approached and was presented. He brought both his heelstogether and bowed solemnly, bending his head at the same time.
"Pleased to meet you, sir," said Shuey. Then he assumed an attitude ofmilitary attention.
"Take us up in the elevator, will you, Shuey?" said Harry. "Step in, Mr.Armorer, please, we will go and see the reproductions of the antique; wehave a room upstairs."
Mr. Armorer stepped in, Shuey following; and then, before Harry couldenter it, the elevator shot upward and--stuck!
"What's the matter?" cried Armorer.
Shuey was tugging at the wire rope. He called, in tones that seemed tocome from a panting chest: "Take a pull at it yourself, sir! Can youmove it?"
Armorer grasped the rope viciously; Shuey was on the seat pulling fromabove. "We're stuck, sir, fast!"
"Can't you get down either?"
"Divil a bit, saving your presence, sir. Do ye think like thewater-works could be busted?"
"Can't you make somebody hear?" panted Armorer.
"Well, you see there's a deal of noise of the machinery," said Shuey,scratching his chin with a thoughtful air, "and they expect we've goneup!"
"Best try, anyhow. This infernal machine may take a notion to drop!"said Armorer.
"And that's true, too," acquiesced Shuey. Forthwith he did lift up hisvoice in a loud wailing: "OH--H, Jimmy! OH--H, Jimmy Ryan!"
Jimmy might have been in Chicago for any response he made; thoughArmorer shouted with Shuey; and at every pause the whir of the machinerymocked t
he shouters. Indescribable moans and gurgles, with a continuousmalignant hiss, floated up to them from the rebel steam below, as froma volcano considering eruption. "They'll be bound to need the elevatorsome time, if they don't need US, and that's one comfort!" said Shuey,philosophically.
"Don't you think if we pulled on her we could get her up to the nextfloor, by degrees? Now then!"
Armorer gave a dash and Shuey let out his muscles in a giant tug. Theelevator responded by an astonishing leap that carried them past threeor four floors!
"Stop her! stop her!" bawled Shuey; but in spite of Armorer's pullinghimself purple in the face, the elevator did not stop until it bumpedwith a crash against the joists of the roof.
"Well, do you suppose we're stuck HERE?" growled Armorer.
"Well, sir, I'll try. Say, don't be exerting yourself violent. Itstrikes me she's for all the world like the wimmen,--in exthremes, sir,in exthremes! And it wouldn't be noways so pleasant to go riproaringthat gait down cellar! Slow and easy, sir, let me manage her. Hi! she'sworking."
In fact, by slow degrees and much puffing, Shuey got the erratic box tothe next floor, where, disregarding Shuey's protestations that he could"make her mind," Mr. Armorer got out, and they left the elevator to itsfate. It was a long way, through many rooms, downstairs. Shuey wouldhave beguiled the way by describing the rooms, but Armorer was in araging hurry and urged his guide over the ground. Once they were delayedby a bundle of stuff in front of a door; and after Shuey had laboriouslyrolled the great roll away, he made a misstep and tumbled over, rollingit back, to a tittering accompaniment from the sewing-girls in the room.But he picked himself up in perfect good temper and kicked the roll tenyards. "Girls is silly things," said the philosopher Shuey, "but beingborn that way it ain't to be expected otherwise!"
He had the friendly freedom of his class in the West. He praised Mrs.Ellis's gymnastics, and urged Armorer to stay over a morning train andsee a "real pretty boxing match" between Mr. Lossing and himself.
"Oh, he boxes too, does he?" said Armorer.
"And why on earth would he groan-like?" wondered Shuey to himself. "Hedoes that, sir," he continued aloud; "didn't Mrs. Ellis ever tell youabout the time at the circus? She was there herself, with three childrenshe borrowed and an unreasonable gyurl, with a terrible big screech inher and no sense. Yes, sir, Mr. Lossing he is mighty cliver with hishands! There come a yell of 'Lion loose! lion loose!' at that circus,just as the folks was all crowding out at the end of it, and them thathad gone into the menagerie tent came a-tumbling and howling back, andthem that was in the circus tent waiting for the concert (which neverain't worth waiting for, between you and me!) was a-scrambling off themseats, making a noise like thunder; and all fighting and pushing andbellowing to get out! I was there with my wife and making for the seatsthat the fools quit, so's to get under and crawl out under the canvas,when I see Mrs. Ellis holding two of the children, and that foolgirl let the other go and I grabbed it. 'Oh, save the baby! save one,anyhow,' cries my wife--the woman is a tinder-hearted crechure! And justthen I seen an old lady tumble over on the benches, with her gray hairstringing out of her black bonnet. The crowd was WILD, hitting andscreaming and not caring for anything, and I see a big jack of a mancome plunging down right spang on that old lady! His foot was rightin the air over her face! Lord, it turned me sick. I yelled. But thatminnit I seen an arm shoot out and that fellow shot off as slick! it wasMr. Lossing. He parted that crowd, hitting right and left, and he gotup to us and hauled a child from Mrs. Ellis and put it on the seats,all the while shouting: 'Keep your seats! it's all right! it's all over!stand back!' I turned and floored a feller that was too pressing, andhollered it was all right too. And some more people hollered too. Yousee, there is just a minnit at such times when it is a toss up whetherfolks will quiet down and begin to laugh, or get scared into wild beastsand crush and kill each other. And Mr. Lossing he caught the minnit!The circus folks came up and the police, and it was all over. WELL, justlook here, sir; there's our folks coming out of the elevator!"
They were just landing; and Mrs. Ellis wanted to know where he had gone.
"We run away from ye, shure," said Shuey, grinning; and he related theadventure. Armorer fell back with Mrs. Ellis. "Did you stay with Estherevery minute?" said he. Mrs. Ellis nodded. She opened her lips tospeak, then closed them and walked ahead to Harry Lossing. Armorerlooked--suspicion of a dozen kinds gnawing him and insinuating that thethree all seemed agitated--from Harry to Esther, and then to Shuey. Buthe kept his thoughts to himself and was very agreeable the remainder ofthe afternoon.
He heard Harry tell Mrs. Ellis that the city council would meet thatevening; before, however, Armorer could feel exultant he added, "but mayI come late?"
"He is certainly the coolest beggar," Armorer snarled, "but he is sharpas a nigger's razor, confound him!"
Naturally this remark was a confidential one to himself.
He thought it more times than one during the evening, and by consequenceplayed trumps with equal disregard of the laws of the noble game ofwhist and his partner's feelings. He found a few, a very few, elderlypeople who remembered his parent, and they will never believe ill ofHoratio Armorer, who talked so simply and with so much feeling ofold times, and who is going to give a memorial window in the newPresbyterian church. He was beginning to think with some interest ofsupper, the usual dinner of the family having been sacrificed to thedemands of state; then he saw Harry Lossing. The young mayor's blondhead was bowing before his sister's black velvet. He caught Armorer'seye and followed him out to the lawn and the shadows and the gaylanterns. He looked animated. Evening dress was becoming to him. "One ofmy daughters married a prince, but I am hanged if he looked it like thisfellow," thought Armorer; "but then he was only an Italian. I supposethe council did not pass the ordinance? your committee reported againstit?" he said quite amicably to Harry.
"I wish you could understand how much pain it has given me to opposeyou, Mr. Armorer," said Harry, blushing.
"I don't doubt it, under the circumstances, Mr. Lossing." Armorer spokewith suave politeness, but there was a cynical gleam in his eye.
"But Esther understands," says Harry.
"Esther!" repeats Armorer, with an indescribable intonation. "You spoketo her this afternoon? For a man with such high-toned ideas as youcarry, I think you took a pretty mean advantage of your guests!"
"You will remember I gave you fair warning, Mr. Armorer."
"It was while I was in the elevator, of course. I guessed it was aput-up job; how did you manage it?"
Harry smiled outright; he is one who cannot keep either his dog or hisjoke tied up. "It was Shuey did it," said he; "he pulled the oppositeway from you, and he has tremendous strength; but he says you were ahandful for him."
"You seem to have taken the town into your confidence," said Armorer,bitterly, though he had a sneaking inclination to laugh himself; "do youneed all your workmen to help you court your girl?"
"I'd take the whole United States into my confidence rather than loseher, sir," answered Harry, steadily.
Armorer turned on his heel abruptly; it was to conceal a smile. "Howabout my sister? did you propose before her? But I don't suppose alittle thing like that would stop you."
"I had to speak; Miss Armorer goes away tomorrow. Mrs. Ellis was kindenough to put her fingers in her ears and turn her back."
"And what did my daughter say?"
"I asked her only to give me the chance to show her how I loved her, andshe has. God bless her! I don't pretend I'm worthy of her, Mr. Armorer,but I have lived a decent life, and I'll try hard to live a better onefor her trust in me."
"I'm glad there is one thing on which we are agreed," jeered Armorer,"but you are more modest than you were this noon. I think it wasconsiderably like bragging, sending that woman to tell of your heroicfeats!"
"Oh, I can brag when it is necessary," said Harry, serenely; "what wouldthe West be but for bragging?"
"And what do you intend to do if I take your gi
rl to Europe?"
"Europe is not very far," said Harry.
Armorer was a quick thinker, but he had never thought more quickly inhis life. This young fellow had beaten him. There was no doubt of it. Hemight have principles, but he declined to let his principles hamper him.There was something about Harry's waving aside defeat so lightly, andso swiftly snatching at every chance to forward his will, that accordedwith Armorer's own temperament.
"Tell me, Mr. Armorer," said Harry, suddenly; "in my place wouldn't youhave done the same thing?"
Armorer no longer checked his sense of humor. "No, Mr. Lossing," heanswered, sedately, "I should have respected the old gentleman's wishesand voted any way he pleased." He held out his hand. "I guess Estherthinks you are the coming young man of the century; and to be honest,I like you a great deal better than I expected to this morning. I'm notcut out for a cruel father, Mr. Lossing; for one thing, I haven't thetime for it; for another thing, I can't bear to have my little girl cry.I guess I shall have to go to Europe without Esther. Shall we go in tothe ladies now?"
Harry wrung the president's hand, crying that he should never regret hiskindness.
"See that Esther never regrets it, that will be better," said Armorer,with a touch of real and deep feeling. Then, as Harry sprang up thesteps like a boy, he took out the note-book, and smiling a smile inwhich many emotions were blended, he ran a black line through
"_See abt L._"
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