As time passed on, I became accustomed to the duties of my position,
and performed them much more easily than at the first. The feeling of
diffidence with which I entered Mr. Baynard's family soon wore-away, by
the kindness extended toward me by every member of the family. I spent
no money needlessly, being anxious to lay by as much as possible. I
wrote often to my friends at Elmwood as well as to Charley Gray, and
received long letters in return which afforded me much pleasure. My
mother's letters often enclosed one also from my sister, which gave me
many choice scraps of news concerning my old school-companions, and many
trifling matters which doubtless possessed more interest for me than
they would have done for any one else. I presume Charley felt our
separation more keenly than I, our natures were so unlike.
Hurrying along Great St. James Street one afternoon with a heavy package
of goods under my arm, I struck against a youth, who was walking in the
opposite direction, with such seeming rudeness that I paused to
apologize, and when I raised my eyes found myself standing with my old
friend and companion at Fulton Academy, Robert Dalton. Our meeting was
not more unexpected than joyful: he had been in Montreal for the past
six months, but had failed to inform me, indeed Robert was not a good
correspondent, it was no lack of friendship but for some reason or
other, writing letters was always a task to him. Meeting unexpectedly as
we did our former intimacy was soon renewed. He was employed in a large
druggist's shop in Notre Dame Street, and boarded with another clerk
whose home was in the city, and we were much together when released from
the business of the day. Learning from Robert's employer that he was a
young man of good principles, Mr. Baynard did not object to our intimacy,
indeed he looked upon him as a kind of safe-guard to me, owing to his
being three years my senior and possessing more experience and knowledge
of the world; and from what he had learned of the young man, he was
aware if he exercised any influence over me it would be for good; and
many pleasant evenings we passed together in Mr. Baynard's family;
Robert was fond of music, and was considered a good singer and often his
rich voice mingled with the notes of the piano in Mr. Baynard's parlor.
Since then, in looking back to that time, I have often thought if
business men, who often have young men in their employ whose homes are
far distant, would be at a little pains to afford them social pleasures
of an elevating nature, it might have a decided effect for good upon
their characters, in after life.
It is unnecessary and would prove tedious to the reader as well as to
myself, were I to give a detailed account of the two first years of my
residence in the city of Montreal. It had been understood that I was to
remain two years, before visiting my friends at Elmwood, and although I
became happy and contented, I looked forward with impatience to the time
when I could visit my mother and sister. The two years was nearly past,
and I began to count the weeks and days as the time drew nigh for the
expected visit. I had become as one of the family in the house of my
employer, and had enjoyed much pleasure in the society of my friend
Robert Dalton; the more I saw of him the more I valued his companionship,
indeed he had become to me as an elder brother. He often amused me by
relating incidents of his childhood, and in my turn I talked freely to
him of my distant home and friends.
If Charley Gray left home two years ago in a fit of the sulks, it did
not interfere with our correspondence which had been sustained regularly
on both sides. It was now nearly three years since we had met, and I
looked forward eagerly to our expected meeting, for he was to spend the
holidays at home. When I reached my native village, Charley was the first
to welcome me, having begged the privilege of driving to the depot to
meet me. He had changed much during the two past years. He had grown
tall and manly looking, and a glance at his broad full brow at once told
one that he possessed a powerful intellect; but he was pale and thin
from close application to study, for from a mere boy Charley was a hard
student. As we rode homeward we had much to tell of what had taken place
since our last meeting. I received a joyous welcome from my mother and
sister, and with a feeling of pride I placed in my mother's hand a
considerable sum of money which I had saved carefully for her use,
hoping it might enable her to live without the unceasing toil which had
been her lot for several years. The month I was to spend at home sped
swiftly away, and we all made the most of each passing day. Charley Gray
seemed so cheerful and happy that I began to hope he had outgrown that
jealous and unhappy temper which had formerly been so characteristic
of him; but in this I was mistaken as I soon had abundant cause to
realize. That serpent in his bosom was not dead, but only slumbered
till aroused by some slight provocation. We were one evening engaged in
a long and familiar conversation, he related many incidents connected
with his school-life, and I also spoke of many things concerning my home
in Montreal; among others I mentioned Robert Dalton, and spoke of the
friendship between us which began at Fulton Academy and which was so
pleasingly renewed in the city of Montreal. I had for the moment
forgotten Charley's peculiar and exclusive nature, and dwelt at
considerable length on the good qualities of my absent friend, till
checked by the dark frown which suddenly gathered upon Charley's
countenance, and the angry flash which shot from his eyes. Rising to his
feet, he said in a voice of deep displeasure: "Since you are so fond of
a new friend, I suppose you no longer consider an old one worth
retaining, so I will trouble you no longer." I attempted to reason with
him, saying I could not see why a new friendship should alienate us who
had been friends from our childhood; but by this time he had worked
himself into a fearful passion and made use of very violent language. I
had learned long ago that when his anger was excited, he was not master
of either his words or actions. I stepped forward, and laying my hand
upon his shoulder tried to recall him to himself, but he threw off my
hand as if my touch had been contamination, and without another word
walked from the room. As I looked after his retreating form as he walked
hastily down the street I could not help a feeling of pity for him, that
he should suffer himself to be governed by such an unhappy temper, for I
knew that when his anger became cooled he would bitterly repent of his
conduct. To the reader who has never met with one possessing the
unhappy disposition of Charley Gray, his character in these pages will
seem absurd and overdrawn; but those who have come in close contact with
a like nature will only see in this sketch a correct delineation of one
of the most unhappy dispositions which affect mankind. Charley was
endowed with rare gifts of mind and intellect, and was manly and
sensible, and setting aside this one fault it was hard to find a more
agreeable and pleasant companion. His absurd conduct was often a matter
of after-wonder to himself, and he made frequent resolutions of
amendment, which only held good till some cause roused his old enemy. I
suppose no more proper name could be found for this unhappy disposition
than exclusiveness, for what ever or whoever he liked, he wanted all to
himself. He was respectful and courteous to all, but intimate only with
a very few, and for those few his affection went beyond the bounds of
reason, inasmuch as it was a source of unhappiness to himself and all
connected with him.
I cherished no resentment toward Charley, knowing him as I did, but I
knew the folly of trying to reason with him in the state of mind in
which he left me. It must have been a hard struggle with his pride, for
Charley was very proud, but his good sense prevailed, and he came to
seek me. "You are freely and fully forgiven," said I, in reply to his
humble acknowledgment of wrong-doing; "but _do_ Charley for your own
sake as well as that of others try and subdue a disposition which if not
conquered, will render you unhappy for life. If I am your friend does it
follow that I must have no other, and the making of other friends will
never diminish my regard for you, the earliest and best friend I have
ever known." "I am sensible," replied he, "of all and more than you can
tell me of the unreasonableness and absurdity of my own conduct, and
again and again have I resolved to gain the mastery, and often, when I
begin to have confidence in my own powers of control, this exclusive
jealous disposition will suddenly rise and put to naught all my
resolutions of amendment. If you could know what I endure from it you
would pity instead of blame me. But let us part friends, and I will try
to exercise more reason for the future." We talked long together, for
the morrow would again separate us, and it might be long before we would
meet again. I had spent a happy month in the cool shady village of
Elmwood, and returned to my labors with body and mind both strengthened
and refreshed.