BITTER FRUITS.
SCARCELY had the honey-moon passed after the wedding of Lawrence
Dunbar—which took place a few months after the elevation of Doctor
Hudson to the chair of anatomy and surgery in the school—before the
young lawyer's restless desire to know something in, regard to his
wife's fortune, led him to ask her some questions on the subject. He
was informed that Mr. Harrison, her guardian, had the entire charge of
her property, and would give him all information on the subject.
"Of course the guardianship will now cease," said the husband; "since
the law places in my hands all the powers that were conferred upon him."
"I presume it will," returned the wife, speaking indifferently.
"Shall I see him?" asked Dunbar.
"If you please." Still in a tone of indifference.
"What is the amount of your property; do you know?"
In spite of his effort to ask this question without evincing any
particular interest in the answer, he could not help betraying, to some
extent, what he really did feel; but whether his wife perceived it or
not, was hard to tell.
"I never knew exactly," she replied, "but I think it was originally
twenty-five thousand dollars. I suppose it has increased a little, as I
have never drawn as much as the interest."
"Twenty-five thousand dollars!" exclaimed Dunbar, thrown off his guard.
"Only twenty-five thousand dollars!"
"And pray, how much did you suppose it was?" asked the startled wife,
through whose whole frame the words of her husband thrilled. She was
instantly aware that he had been attracted by the hope of securing a
large fortune, and as instantly she felt a strong sense of indignation.
Her pride was aroused, and that with her was an overmastering passion.
Dunbar saw that he had betrayed himself, and he also saw, by the
expression of his wife's face, that he had committed an offence not
likely to be soon forgiven.
"I was informed that it was more," he said, speaking with forced
calmness.
"By whom, pray?" Mrs. Dunbar's eyes flashed, and her voice was angry in
its expression.
"Not by you, certainly."
"If you had inquired of me, there would have been less likelihood of
your being led into error," said his wife, with an ill-concealed sneer,
that made the very blood boil in the veins of Dunbar.
"Twenty-five thousand dollars!" he muttered to himself a few moments
after, as he hastily left the presence of his excited and angry bride.
"And is it for such a paltry sum that I have sold myself to this she
dev—?"
He checked himself suddenly, in very shame, and repeated with much
bitterness—
"Twenty-five thousand dollars! I can make that any year by cutting my
cards aright."
It was many hours before the lawyer could think with any calmness
upon the new aspect his affairs had suddenly assumed. For his wife,
dislike and disgust assumed the place of a forced regard which he had
entertained for her, as the representative of a handsome fortune. When
he met her, on returning to his elegant home, she was cold, haughty,
and reserved, in her manner towards him. Her head was not bowed in
bitterness of spirit at the discovery she had made, but was held erect;
and she looked at him with a stern, rebuking, imperious gaze, that
aroused the worst passions within him. Neither of them referred to the
morning's interview.
On the next day, Dunbar's mind was made up to go to old Mr. Harrison,
and know the truth. He could bear the suspense no longer. Accordingly,
he called to see him the first thing in the morning.
"I learn from my wife," he said, "that you are her guardian."
"I am. I was appointed under her father's will to take charge of her
property, and to pay it over to her husband if she ever married."
"What is the amount of this property?" asked Dunbar.
"Twenty-five thousand dollars were left to her by her father at
his death; the balance of his large property went to some distant
relatives. Harriet's fortune has, in my hands, increased to thirty
thousand dollars."
"Was she his only child?"
"Yes."
"Why did he not leave her more?"
"He had his own reasons, I presume," returned Harrison coldly.
"The thirty thousand you hold is to be paid to me, I understand."
"The will requires me to pay to the husband of Harriet the sum of
twenty-five thousand dollars, with any interest accruing there from not
already paid to the said Harriet. You are her husband, and of course
you are entitled to her fortune."
"Yes, that is plain enough. When will you be prepared to arrange it?"
"That I have already done," replied the guardian, coolly.
"Already done! I do not understand you, Mr. Harrison."
"Did I not pay you thirty thousand dollars a few weeks ago?"
"Yes, but not on this account."
"And did you not then give me a receipt in full of all demands, past,
present, and to come?"
The face of Dunbar became pale, and his lips quivered.
"Was it just in you, sir," he said sternly, "to take that advantage of
my ignorance of your relation to my intended wife?"
"Was it just in you, sir," returned Mr. Harrison, with equal sternness,
"to take a bribe for the betrayal of your client, whose cause you might
have gained?"
"It was as right as for you to offer it," retorted Dunbar.
"You are answered," said the old man, coldly. "I have your receipt, and
mean to hold it against you."
"But do you think I will not cite you before the court to answer in
this matter?" returned the lawyer. "The receipt was fraudulently
obtained and cannot stand. Its very tenor expresses its character. I
will swear that you refused to pay me a sum of money due, unless I
would sign the receipt you have produced."
"Very well, Mr. Dunbar, I will meet you, and require you to show, that
this receipt was not intended to cover an anticipatory payment of this
very legacy belonging to the woman who was to become your wife in a few
days. What other transaction involving so heavy an amount would lie
between us? This will, of course, be asked, and I will leave you to
answer it to the satisfaction of the court; and I will take good care
that the answer be fully reported for publication in the daily press."
Harrison looked the young lawyer in the face steadily, while he slowly
repeated these sentences in a firm voice—
"I don't see that it will place you in any more favorable light than it
will me," said Dunbar, after a moment's reflection. "If you are willing
to brave public opinion, I think I needn't shrink from it."
"As you please," returned the old man, indifferently. "I rather think
that I shall be able to make out a plain case for myself. So, if you
intend going to law about this business, I hope you will begin at once,
and be done with it."
"I am to understand, then, that you will not settle the estate of your
ward according to the provisions of her father's will?"
"No: you are to understand that I have already settled it, and that I
hold your receipt for the full sum thereof."
"A thing that I deny."
"A man may deny anything he pleases, and especially a man like you,
who would betray, for gain, the interests of his client. No doubt your
practice would vastly increase after the beautiful exposé that will be
made when you sue for your wife's estate. You are the young man I heard
it prophesied, some years ago, would rise in the world. Truly, you are
going up with astonishing celerity."
"Mr. Harrison, I will bear insult from no man! not even from one as old
as yourself," said the lawyer, passionately.
"Do I insult you? I presumed that you would take what I said as a
compliment. But if you don't like my plain way of speaking, I think you
had better leave me. I have no wish for a continuance of your company.
I know you too well."
At this retort, the lawyer turned on his heel and left the presence of
the man who knew him too well.
"The biter got bit that time. I thought I would be too sharp for him,"
said Harrison, smiling inwardly.
If ever a man was completely foiled in his purposes and dashed down to
the very earth, that man was Lawrence Dunbar. Of the thirty thousand
dollars received from Harrison, ten thousand had been paid to the
opposing attorney as his accomplice in iniquity, leaving him but twenty
thousand dollars as the entire fortune of his wife. This was a very
different state of affairs from that which his imagination had been
picturing. Seventy thousand with his wife, twenty thousand from old
Harrison as the price of his integrity, and fifteen thousand dollars
already earned and saved, would have made a hundred and five thousand
dollars. Instead, he was worth just thirty thousand dollars, and ten
thousand of that was locked up in costly household furniture that had
already lost its beauty in his eyes. As to entering into a contest with
Mr. Harrison, that he did not for a moment contemplate. It could not be
done without an exposure ruinous alike to his character and prospects.
The very thought of it made him shudder. It was bad enough that a man
who entertained such a hearty contempt for him should be in possession
of such a blasting secret, which, if even a whisper of it got upon the
wind, would wither up his legal reputation and blast his hopes like the
hot breath of a sirocco.
He was in no mood to meet the wife he had insulted by a betrayal of
his base regard for her property, instead of her person. The air of
his richly-furnished parlors, as he entered them, was cold; the house
itself seemed deserted, and oppressed him with a feeling of desolation.
He did not seek his wife; for he had no wish to come into her presence.
He thought of her with something akin to loathing. And this was
scarcely five weeks from the wedding day!
At tea time they met; cold, reserved, and even haughty in their
demeanor towards each other. The wife felt that she had received an
unpardonable insult, and the husband felt that he had been deeply
wronged. All hope of bettering his fortunes by matrimony was now
gone. He was united to one who was, to use his own words, a beggar.
She had no attractions of beauty of which he might be proud; and
no excellences of character to win his esteem or love. But, cold,
repulsive, self-willed, and passionate, she united in her person all
those qualities that repel and estrange a man.
The subject of her fortune was never again alluded to by them. She
asked no questions, and he made no communication touching the matter.
But Mr. Harrison took the pains to call upon her, and inform her that
he had paid to her husband thirty thousand dollars, in accordance with
the provisions of her father's will, and that he was no longer her
guardian.