CONCLUSION
November had come and the Oakfield visitors were all gone,—I to my work
as stenographer,—Rena to New York, and Tom to Newton, where Rex finally
joined him. He was very well and seemed very happy as he took every car
line in and out of the city, and read every advertisement of “Villas for
Sale.” He had been with Tom into the six room flat, third floor, and had
sniffed at it scornfully.
“Rena here!” he said, “in these little rooms, with an elevator to reach
them! I tell you, Tom, it will never do, and I’ll have my way in this
matter. That eighty thousand is going to do some good.”
“All right,” Tom finally said. “Go ahead, and see what Rena says.”
She was coming in a few days with her aunt to see the flat and decide on
its furnishing, and Rex was quite as anxious about it as Tom, who
anticipated a scene when she learned the truth. Mrs. Graham had objected
to the flat, and had mentally objected to Tom, as a poor man. Reginald
would have pleased her better. But she had no choice. Rena was to marry
Tom and live in a flat, and was very happy and anxious to see both. Tom
met them at the station and took them to the hotel where he had engaged
rooms for them. It was too late when they arrived to see the flat that
day, but Tom came early the next morning to take them to it in a very
smart turnout. Rena had heard so much from her aunt of the economy she
must practise as Tom’s wife, that the fine carriage and horses disturbed
her as something Tom could not afford.
“I shall have to restrain him,” she thought, “for it is like him when he
has one dollar to spend two.”
“Couldn’t we walk, or take a street-car?” she asked, and Tom replied:
“Yes, but I am going to show you the city and some of the suburbs.”
It did not take long to reach the flat, and they were soon inspecting
the rooms, at which Mrs. Graham looked askance, while Rena drew a quick
breath, they were so much smaller than she had expected. Tom was in high
spirits as he showed them through.
“This is the parlor,” he said, indicating the front room, “and this
little nook out of it over the hall can be fitted up as a Japanese den.
This room we will use for a library, where I can smoke and read. This is
the dining-room, all furnished in oak. And the biggest room in the house
with a fair outlook. Here is a sleeping-room, and bath-room, here the
kitchen, here the servant’s room, small, to be sure, but less work to
take care of; and here is what I consider best of all, a nice platform
or open shed out of the kitchen where we can keep our truck. How do you
like it?”
They had reached the open shed where they were to keep truck, of the
nature of which Rena, who knew nothing of housekeeping, had no idea. She
had followed Tom mechanically, with a feeling that her aunt’s gown
rustled more than usual as they went from room to room. She did not
quite know what she did think except that it was different from what she
had expected. Evidently Tom was pleased and wished her to be, and with a
catch of breath she said:
“It is very nice, but rather small, big enough for us, though,” while
her aunt asked:
“Where am I to sleep if I should visit you—there is no spare room for
guests?”
“By George! I hadn’t thought of that,” Tom said; then, brightening
suddenly, he added, “We’ll put a bed-lounge in the library and turn that
into a sleeping-room. Shall we go now?”
“But we haven’t decided what furniture we want,” Rena said, and Tom
replied:
“Time enough for that after I show you the city.”
Rena was the first to go down the stairs, which she preferred to the
elevator. Behind her came her aunt who turned to Tom and said in a low
tone: “You must give up that Quixotic notion not to use Rena’s money,
and rent a larger place. According to that will she has a right to a
part of Sandy’s fortune, and she must not be buried here!”
“Think so?” Tom answered, good-humoredly, while Mrs. Graham shrugged her
shoulders and thought of Reginald Travers and the will.
They were all rather silent, as they drove around the city, seeming to
Rena to be going out of it until at last they were in a suburb and
stopped before a handsome, modern house, with grounds in front and
garden and stable in the rear.
“Who lives here?” Rena asked.
“No one at present. I want you to see it,” Tom said, putting up his arms
to lift her out.
“I believe he has been playing a joke about that flat,” Mrs. Graham
thought, as she followed up the walk to the front door, of which Tom had
the key.
He seemed quite at home in the house, which was perfect in every
respect, with plenty of room for guests, a modern hall and staircase,
with broad window-seats and a fireplace, and Rena went off into little
shrieks of ecstasy, while the six rooms of the flat, third floor, grew
smaller and smaller in her mind.
“Tom,” she said, at last, timidly, as they sat in one of the
window-seats, “how much is a home like this worth?”
Tom named a price which made her gasp.
“Did you think of buying it?” he asked.
“No, I couldn’t, and furnish it and keep it up as it ought to be kept,
but it’s lovely,” Rena said. “Why did you bring us here? Whose is it?”
“Yours, if you prefer it to the flat.”
“Oh, Tom! You ought not to have done it! You couldn’t afford it, and you
must let me help, but it was so good in you, you dear, delightful,
darling old Tom,” Rena exclaimed, and forgetting that her aunt was
present she threw her arms around Tom’s neck, nearly strangling him and
knocking off his hat, which rolled on the floor.
“Hold on,” he said. “You are choking me to death and wide of the mark. I
could not begin to buy the place, even with your help. Rex bought it and
gives it to you. I have the deed in my pocket. Here it is.”
He drew out a legal-looking document and held it up, but Rena did not
see it. She had bounded half across the room, where she stood with
flashing eyes and white lips, exclaiming:
“I’ll never take it, never!”
“Come back here, and I will explain,” Tom said, and rather reluctantly
Rena went back and resumed her seat beside him, while her aunt, scarcely
less excited, asked:
“Is it a joke?”
“Not a bit of it. It’s true as the Gospel. Rex bought this house and has
given it to Rena, with money enough to furnish it.”
“But why did he do it?” Rena asked, and very briefly Tom told her, while
she listened with the tears streaming down her face and a strange
feeling stirring in her heart.
Tom made her understand the will as she never had before, and that
eighty thousand dollars were Rex’s in virtue of his having proposed to
her and been rejected. Rena was a woman and something like resentment
flashed up for a moment as she said:
“So all that fine talk about love and my pulse beating in unison with
his was put on for the sake of getting the money?”
“No, it wasn’t,” Tom said. “He cared for you very much—loved you, if
that term suits you better. He told me so, and if you had not been
engaged to me he would have tried to win you for himself, I know Rex,
the best fellow that ever lived, and the most generous. I tried to
dissuade him from doing what he has, but I might as well talk to the
wind. He is determined, and so I turn the matter over to you, who can
accept or reject, as you please.”
“I reject!” Rena said decidedly. “Do you think I can accept so great a
gift from Mr. Travers?”
“But, Rena, consider the peculiar circumstances,” Mrs. Graham began.
She had no idea of letting Rena lose this lovely home, and her arguments
were so strong and persuasive that Rena finally yielded so far as to say
she would think about it, and to ask where Mr. Travers was.
“In the city, at the same hotel as you, waiting to see you,” Tom told
her.
“Oh, I can’t do that, as I must tell him I cannot take the house,” Rena
said, but when on their return to the city they passed the flat and Tom
asked:
“Would you like to look at it again, or furniture for it?” she answered
quietly:
“No, drive on, I am tired.”
After lunch Tom said to her: “Will you see Rex? He has a private parlor,
and is in there.”
“Oh, no!” Rena cried, turning very white and beginning to tremble.
“But you must. Don’t be foolish,” her aunt persisted.
“Then Tom must go with me,” Rena said.
“No,” he answered. “It is better for you to see him alone. I’ll go as
far as the door. Come on, and have it over. He will not hurt you.”
Very unwilling Rena went, shaking like a leaf when the door closed and
she found herself with Rex. The particulars of that interview Tom never
knew, nor asked, but Rena’s face was stained with tears when it was
over, and she was greatly agitated as she said to him:
“I’ve consented, and I feel so mean; but I couldn’t help it, he was so
nice—so like a brother, which he says he wants to be to us, and he
almost made me believe that a part of that eighty thousand dollars was
mine by right—that Sandy McPherson wished it so, and Colin, too; and we
are to stay at the McPherson place when we please and he will be there
some of the time and here with us in his house. I can’t help feeling it
is his, and in spite of it all I am so happy, for truly I did not want
the flat, it is so small and stuffy. He reminded me that twenty thousand
dollars are lawfully mine according to the will, but I won’t touch it.
He shall keep it and give it to Irene, if he wants to. I know she did
some things which surprised me, but I was to blame for getting her into
the plot. She liked Mr. Travers and she had reason to think he liked
her. I am sorry for her—and I——”
She did not finish for Tom stopped her mouth with kisses, saying:
“Never mind Irene. She shall not suffer. I am glad the thing is
settled.”
He seemed relieved, and Rena at last became quite composed and consented
to dine that night in Rex’s private parlor. He proved an admirable host
and not at all like the timid man whom Tom had once almost dragged
through the fields to call upon the Misses Burdick. It was decided that
Rena and her aunt were to select the furniture for the house, or a part
of it, before going home, and in the excitement of shopping Rena forgot
the humiliation she thought she should always feel when she remembered
how her handsome home came to her. They stayed a week in Newton and
Boston and then returned to New York, where preparations for the wedding
went on rapidly. Mrs. Graham would have liked a church affair with a
grand reception, but Rena shrank from it.
“We’ll be married at home in the morning with only a few friends
here—Irene, Mr. Travers, Mr. McPherson, Miss Bennett, Mrs. Parks, Lottie
and Sam.”
“Oh, horror!” Mrs. Graham exclaimed, but she gave in and the wedding
took place the day before Christmas with all the invited guests present
except Irene, who declined on the pretense that she was just recovering
from the grippe, and no one seemed to miss her.
I was there, with Colin and Rex and Mrs. Parks and Lottie and Sam, to
the last of whom Rex was very gracious, feeling that he owed him
something for exposing the farce at the well and thus saving from which
he would have found it hard to extricate himself.
After the bride and groom were gone and Sam was about to leave Rex drew
him aside and asked:
“Are you much of a farmer?”
“Have been at it all my life,” Sam replied, with the air of a man of
forty.
“Well, then,” Rex continued, “How would you like to see what you can do
with my farm a few miles from Richmond? It was said to be a good one, I
believe, before the war, but is somewhat run down. Would you like it?”
“You bet!” Sam answered, his eyes shining as he saw a chance to marry
Lottie sooner than he had hoped.
He left that afternoon with Mrs. Parks and Lottie, but Mr. McPherson
spent the night as he wished to question Mrs. Graham with regard to
Rena, until he settled it to a certainty that she was a blood relation
to Nannie, and that there had been no mistake in the distribution of
Sandy’s money. Then he returned home, while Rex went to Boston, where a
few days later he was joined by Mrs. Graham and with her finished the
selection of furniture for the house. It was some time in January that
the newly married pair took possession of their new home, where Mrs.
Graham and Rex were waiting to welcome them.
Years have passed since then, bringing some changes. Tom has grown
stouter and jollier, if possible, while Rena, who will always be
girlish, tries to assume a matronly air on account of the two little
children who call her mother. One is a boy, christened Travers
McPherson, the other a girl named Nannie, for her far-removed relative,
whose picture Colin insists she resembles. Irene has made up her mind to
bear the inevitable gracefully and is a frequent visitor in Newton,
where her still lovely face attracted the attention of a middle-aged
bachelor from Boston, with a handsome house on Commonwealth Avenue, and
more money than either Rex or Tom. The last I heard she was engaged to
him, and Rena is to give her the wedding. Whenever I can leave my work I
visit Rena and frequently meet with Mr. McPherson and Rex, the latter of
whom is uncle and the other grandfather to the children. Sam Walker,
lives on Mr. Travers’ farm, which, under his skilful management, is in
better condition than before the war when it was called one of the best
in the country. Tom’s practise has increased until Mrs. Graham no longer
looks upon him as a poor man, but speaks of him with pride as “a
promising lawyer, my niece’s husband.” Nearly every summer the family go
to the McPherson place, where Rex joins them, and the children, with
their carts and shovels, play sometimes on the beach and sometimes in
the grounds, but their favorite place is in the pine-grove near the
covered well, where poor Nannie met her tragic death, without which this
story could never have been written.
THE END.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
POPULAR NOVELS
BY
MRS. MARY J. HOLMES.
TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE.
ENGLISH ORPHANS.
HOMESTEAD ON HILLSIDE.
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RENA’S EXPERIMENT.
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THE CROMPTONS
By MARY J. HOLMES
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are both humorous and pathetic. First edition, 10,000 copies.
Quarto, cloth cover, price, $1.25.
ECCENTRICITIES OF GENIUS, Memories of Famous Men and Women of the
Platform and Stage
By =Major J. B. Pond=. These biographical sketches of notable Orators,
Preachers, and Lecturers, descriptive of the personal traits of
character of the many noted persons who have publicly appeared under
the management of Major Pond, are thrillingly and forcibly told. A
magnificent octavo volume containing early one hundred half-tone
portrait illustrations. Cloth bound, $3.50.
UNDER A LUCKY STAR, a New Book on Astrology
By =Charlotte Abell Walker=. Tells what occupation to adopt, and what
line of life to follow, what associates and partners to choose, how
to recognize the possibilities and limitations of our friends and
ourselves, and of other important matters to human life, including
suggestions on marriage, being mainly culled from the minds of
ancient and modern philosophers. Illustrated, cloth bound, $1.50.
TRUE DETECTIVE STORIES
From the Pinkerton Archives. By =Cleveland Moffett=. The absorbing
stories told here by Mr. Moffet are statements of actual facts
repeated without exaggeration or false coloring. The author, by the
help of the Pinkerton Agency, has given the inside history of famous
cases which the general public only know of through newspaper
accounts. Cloth bound, 75 cents.
THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ARTEMUS WARD
By =Charles Farrar Browne=. With a biographical sketch of the author
by =Melville D. Landon=. The present edition is of a work which has
been for more than thirty years prominently before the public, and
which may be justly said to have maintained a standard character. It
is issued because of a demand for a _better edition_ than has ever
been published.
In order to supply this acknowledged want, the publishers have
enlarged and perfected this edition by adding some matter not
heretofore published in book form.
A large 12mo, printed from new electro plates, with 28 full-page
illustrations, and photogravure portrait of the author, handsomely
bound in cloth, gilt top, $2.00.
THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN KETTLE
By =Cutcliffe Hyne=. The best sea story since the days of =Marryat=.
Captain Kettle is a devil-may-care sea dog, half pirate and half
preacher. The author carries him through many hairbreadth escapes
and makes him a character that will live long in the annals of
fiction. The success of this book is marvelous. Over 80,000 copies
have been sold. Illustrated. Cloth bound, $1.50.
A MASTER OF FORTUNE, Being Further Adventures of “Captain Kettle”
By =Cutcliffe Hyne=. “It has the dash and tinge of reality that makes
you feel as if you were in the midst of it all.”—_Detroit Free
Press._
“The many readers who followed with bated breath the wild adventures
of Captain Kettle in the book named for him, will welcome Cutcliffe
Hyne’s new collection of tales dealing with that remarkable sea dog.
The volume is well called ‘A Master of Fortune.’”—_Philadelphia
Press._
“Nobody who has followed the gallant sailor—diminutive, but oh, my!—in
his previous adventures around the earth, is going to miss this
red-not volume of marvelous exploits.”—_N. Y. World._ Illustrated.
Cloth bound, $1.50.
THE TWENTIETH CENTURY COOK BOOK
By =Mrs. C. F. Moritz= and =Adele Kahn=. A modern and complete
household cook book such as this is, since cooking has come to be a
science no less than an art, must find a welcome and become the most
popular cook book of all the many now published.
“It can hardly be realized that there is anything worth eating
that its receipt cannot be found in this volume. This volume has
been carefully compiled and contains not only the receipts for
an elaborate menu, but also the modest ones have been
considered.”—_Book and Newsdealer._ Bound in oil cloth, for
kitchen use, $1.50.
HIS FRIEND THE ENEMY
By =Wm. Wallace Cook=. Author of “Rogers of Butte,” “Little Miss
Vassar,” etc.
The _Detroit Free Press_ says: “It gives a graphic story built round
one of the ‘county-seat wars’ that have been actual occurrences in
the development of the West. The story is well furnished with
incident, moves with a rush, and gives a vivid idea of some lively
times out in the Territories.” Cloth bound. Illustrated, $1.50.
THE PAGAN’S CUP
By =Fergus Hume=, author of “The Mystery of a Hanson Cab,” etc. This
is a thrilling detective story, in which the interest and mystery is
well sustained. Cloth bound, $1.25.
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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
● Enclosed bold or blackletter font in =equals=.