“FOOLS”
“WHAT is it?” Jean asked, coming to look over his shoulder.
“It is a deed transfer,” said the excited boy. “Yes, sir, it is! The
whole rigmarole is here; the same thing said over half a dozen times,
you know; and it’s for ‘Ray Forman Forsythe, her heirs and’—all the
of it, and—Jean, it’s our house on Dupont Circle!”
“Nonsense!” from Jean. “How could it be? You are crazy, Dick Forman!
‘Much wedding cake has made you mad.’”
“Crazy or not I should hope I could still read! This is a deed of
transfer, if I ever heard of one; and I heard of nothing else for a
week; we had ’em in class; why, I even had to write—oh! I say—this is
the greatest! Jean, this is from Aunt Elsie!”
After that, excitement in the gift room ran so high that Florence,
who was helping to pack the bride’s travelling bag, came to see what
was the matter. Brother and sister both talked at once, trying to
explain, and finally pointed out the lines, that she might read for
herself. As she read, her face grew white with excitement.
“What can it mean?” she cried. “What can it mean? It is our old
home—and Ray’s name is here, and Aunt Elsie’s! I can’t understand
it!”
Then all three went in haste for the bride and groom, almost
literally carrying them by force to the gift room; talking the while
so incoherently and so much in concert that not a suspicion of what
they could mean reached Ray’s mind.
“Why, Jean, dear,” she said, laughing, “what is the matter? Have you
all three gone daft?”
But when she read on the envelope her newly acquired name, and
flushed over it, and laughed, a happy little laugh, and bent over the
formidable document trying to make some sense from its
strange-sounding legal phrases, and began to catch a glimmer of its
possible meaning, and looked with startled eyes at her husband,
and found him almost as amazed as herself, Aunt Elsie’s satisfaction
in her carefully planned surprise ought to have been complete.
It is of no use to try to tell how that last hour, which had been
more or less dreaded by all concerned, was spent. They could not have
told, if they had tried. Almost the wedding itself, and the going out
from the old home not to return, were forgotten in this new
bewilderment and delight.
Perhaps it was well for all parties concerned that the clock moved
steadily on without regard to legal transfers, or any such thing, and
presently called out sharply the hour of ten; and the 10:40 train was
the one that the bridal party were to take! After that, they left all
the gifts and scurried about in haste.
According to Jean, on the following morning “before they had had a
chance to discover that Ray was really married, it was all over and
they were gone!”
The house had by no means settled into regular routine, nor grown
in the least accustomed to the new order of things, when a diversion
was caused by the appearance of Uncle Evarts; all unexpected,
as usual, he came for one of his flying visits.
The missing of a train at a junction had compelled him to lie over,
and he had found by taking a rather circuitous route he could run
down and spend a few hours with them, and hear all about the bride.
He was “so sorry” that he could not come in time for the wedding;
but business was a terrible tyrant and a man who had a family
to think about had to get up and hustle these days. Joe was at it,
he supposed. Poor Joe! He wished he could make him understand
how sorry he was not to be able to help him through this last scrape.
Would he really have to lose the house? Mortgages were dangerous
tools for poor people to play with; he himself had steered clear
of them; it was always the best way. Uncle Evarts never waited
for replies to his questions; in this case his sister-in-law was glad
that he hadn’t; she was finding herself unwilling to talk over family
matters with him. Next, he attacked the bride:
“So Ray is really married at last? Put it off a number of times,
didn’t she? Well, marriage is a kind of lottery; the best we can do
is hope that she will never have cause to regret hers. What is the
plan? You and Joe going to take them in and look after them until
they can stand on their own feet? Forsythe has nothing but his
salary, has he? Not even a home of his own. Pretty precarious
business to marry under such circumstances.”
When he paused for breath, Mrs. Forman decided that she must give him
a crumb of information; it started him afresh:
“Oh, indeed! Going to housekeeping. Well, that’s sensible. A little
place of their own, no matter how humble, is better than living
on other people. But, didn’t I hear that he had a relative of some
sort to support? Oh, a mother; and is she going to live with them?
They will need several rooms, then. Where have they found a desirable
place? Or haven’t they got so far as that yet?”
Mrs. Forman arose suddenly, ostensibly to close a window where the
wind was blowing in; really, to decide just how to answer him.
It gave Jean the opportunity for which she longed:
“They are to be at 1200 Dupont Circle, Uncle Evarts.”
“Eh, what?” he said. “I beg your pardon, Jean, I didn’t hear
distinctly, 1200 what?”
“Dupont Circle.”
“Why! Oh, caretakers for some nabob, are they? Well, that isn’t bad,
for a while. How long can they have that arrangement?”
“You don’t understand,” said Mrs. Forman, with a look of rebuke
for Jean, who was laughing hysterically. “It is to be a permanent
arrangement. Kendall has already settled two or three rooms and
installed his mother there, with a maid to look after her comfort and
Derrick to stay nights. Their wish was to get to housekeeping as soon
as they returned, and Ray is going to select her own furniture
by degrees.”
“But, Louise, you are talking in riddles! If I remember anything
about this town, Dupont Circle is one of the finest residence
districts. Isn’t it where you lived when Joe signed his name once too
often, and went to pieces?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Forman said, with quiet voice, though the flush on her
face betokened strong self-control. “You are quite right; it is our
dear old home. We are so thankful to have it as one of Ray’s wedding
gifts; we planned it for her long ago.”
“But what in the world? I beg your pardon, Louise, but this is most
extraordinary! What relatives have we who could make such an amazing
present as this? You don’t mean that the place is given to her
out and out!”
Then the telephone summoned Mrs. Forman, and Jean’s lost opportunity
returned:
“Yes, it is, Uncle Evarts; a regular deed, with whole yards of legal
phrases, and her name, ‘Ray Kendall Forsythe,’ written out in full;
the first time her new name was used. And it wasn’t Aunt Elsie’s only
gift, either; you ought to see the perfectly lovely wedding dress
trimmed with lace a hundred years old. Aunt Elsie gave the whole
outfit, and she is going to furnish the house from attic to basement,
she says, as a present to Kendall!”
“Aunt Elsie!” If written language could ever describe exclamation
points one might try to tell how Uncle Evarts exploded those two
words. Just those two, and then was silent; it being the first time
on record that language failed him. Mrs. Forman made an earnest
effort to explain. She did not wonder at his astonishment, they had
all been simply overwhelmed by Elsie’s wonderful gifts; of course,
they had not dreamed of such a possibility, and had not yet grown
used to the thought; they knew that there was nothing too big for her
heart, but that she could do things was almost unbelievable. But she
might as well have saved her breath. Evarts Forman could not
understand. He questioned and cross-questioned, and, after repeated
assertions and attempts at explanations, Mrs. Forman felt tempted
to say that he would not understand.
“Elsie!” he kept repeating, as one dazed. Why, that is absurd! It is
impossible! Elsie has no money; a paltry sum, perhaps, not enough
to dress her decently in a house where they pay any attention to such
matters. Didn’t he know! Who settled up everything after father died,
and paid all the bills, if he didn’t himself? Elsie buy a house
on Dupont Circle! There was some strange mistake. Elsie knew nothing
of business; she was the dupe of somebody who wanted to get the whole
tribe of Formans into trouble. Where was Elsie? He must see to this
at once. Joe ought to have known that all this was folly!
With Aunt Elsie herself he was decidedly sharp; he began by treating
her like an audacious child, who had been meddling with what she did
not understand and brought trouble upon them all. When he found that
he could not frighten her into “common sense,” and that, instead,
she composedly assured him that it was all quite true, she had
advanced the money to pay off the mortgage, and had bought the old
place on Dupont Circle for a wedding gift, he grew white with anger.
What did she mean by such talk? Had she any idea what a house
on Dupont Circle cost? If she had had money hidden away all these
years, what had she meant by deceiving them all and coming here
to live on charity! But here a chorus of voices interrupted.
“Mother!” from Florence; “must we sit here and let Aunt Elsie
be spoken to in that way?”
And Jean in the same breath: “‘Charity!’ Oh, mother, will you let him
say that?”
Then Mrs. Forman’s voice, cold and dignified: “Evarts, you must not
speak in that way to Elsie in our house. No greater blessing ever
came to a home than came to ours with her; if she had not a penny
in the world, as we thought she had not, we should be grateful
for the privilege of sharing our last crust with her. You shall not
insult us by speaking of charity.”
Then Uncle Evarts had some slight realization of what he had said.
“Oh, well,” he interrupted, impatiently, “I am not after heroics;
and I am not saying anything against her; she knows she is welcome
to a home with any of us, of course; what I want to get at is this
miserable business; she has been duped by somebody, made the victim
of a huge imposition that involves the Forman name and honor; and I
want to rescue us all, if you will give me a chance. When will Joe
be home? He ought to have a little common sense left, and be able
to help us out of this mix.”
Then Aunt Elsie’s quiet voice: “Really, Evarts, there is no occasion
for all this excitement. I can explain whatever needs explaining
in five minutes, if you will listen. You took it for granted that I
had no money, without asking me any questions; I never told you so.
As a matter of fact, I had a few thousand dollars that father
invested for me years ago, the interest of which has always been more
than I needed. Then Derrick sent me some money, from time to time,
and I invested that, and was fortunate; it has grown a good deal.”
“Derrick!” he said. “You mean—”
“I mean our brother Derrick.” His amazement was increasing. He was
bristling with questions, but she hurried on:
“So, you see, I had money enough for what I wanted to do, and some
left over. I came here to get acquainted with Joseph’s family; I will
not deny that I had a purpose in doing so, and I have discovered what
I wanted to know. But I did not know until a very short time ago that
Joseph was in serious financial trouble; if I had, I should have
moved before. They were so careful not to let the poor relation
who had thrown herself upon their ‘charity’ feel herself a burden
that they never even hinted to me the danger they were in of losing
their home; I found it out by eavesdropping and accident. But about
the business matters that trouble you, instead of waiting for Joseph
let me make a suggestion. Go and talk with Henry Westlake about it
all; he has had charge of my affairs for some time, and he is enough
of a business man, I suppose, to suit even you.”
Which was precisely what Uncle Evarts did. He let the train at the
junction go its way without him, and went as soon as he could
to Judge Westlake’s office; only to find him in court for the day.
But this business was much too serious to be put aside for small
matter like that; so he lunched at restaurant, took a motor ride
out to the park and around Dupont Circle, and in other ways got rid
of time until court adjourned. Then he sent in his card; he knew the
great man by reputation, but he used to know him as a boy. For that,
or some other reason, he was promptly admitted. Preliminaries over,
he poured out questions, and Judge Westlake answered as many of them
as he chose.
Yes, it was true that Miss Elsie Forman had bought 1200 Dupont
Circle; yes, she had paid cash down, it was not to be had on any
other terms.
Oh, yes, it was as fine an investment as the city afforded. It was
a whim on the part of the owner to get it off his hands at once
for cash.
Yes, that was true, too; she had deeded it to her niece, Mrs. Ray
Forman Forsythe, as a wedding gift.
It was then that Uncle Evarts lost his studied self-control and waxed
eloquent and indignant. He wanted to know what kind of a man
Judge Westlake thought himself to be, to take advantage of a woman
utterly ignorant of business matters and of values and allow her
to spend all she had—money which she had raked and scraped and
hoarded through the years in order to have something for her crippled
old age—on a wedding present! He went on, and on, and on, as Uncle
Evarts had a lifelong habit of doing; he said the same things over
again, and yet again, in more forceful ways, and added other thoughts
as they came to him; many of them not especially complimentary to the
judge, with whose composed listening he grew more angry every minute.
Up to this point in the interview Judge Westlake, as his custom was,
had used as few words as circumstances would permit. Then he
listened, sitting in silence for a moment even after the flow
of words had ceased, and his caller sat glaring at him, waiting for
what excuse he could possibly offer for his folly. Then the Judge
stopped fingering the business papers on his desk, squared himself
for a full view of his guest, and began:
“If you are quite through, Forman, there are a few things that I have
decided to say to you. I knew you when we were boys together, you
remember, and I knew your sister Elsie. I know her now. I also knew
her brother Derrick, and believed in him even after you had entirely
cast him off. So did your sister Elsie. I knew when she came to this
city that she had a purpose in coming. She had certain suspicions
which she wanted to have either removed or confirmed. She wanted
to make the intimate acquaintance of your brother Joseph’s family,
which was her chief reason for choosing his house as a place of
residence, instead of an Old Ladies’ Home, which, I believe, you
suggested to her. She has been able to carry out her desires, and has
proved that her suspicions were founded on fact. She was for a term
of years the sole regular correspondent of your brother Derrick; and
through him she learned a number of things that helped her in
reaching conclusions. I believe you are fully aware of your brother
Joseph’s financial straits, which you also know, of course, were
brought about through no fault of his own, but under circumstances
that reflect honor upon his strict integrity. Your sister did not
know about these matters, and the family did not enlighten her;
they made sacrifices, as you have already hinted, in order to receive
her, and they opened not only their home but their hearts to her.
In view of this it is not surprising that she has adopted them all
as her very own. Now it happens that she had certain trust monies
which she was to bestow upon this particular family, if it should
come to pass that they could—without knowing anything about them—meet
the conditions. Those conditions have been abundantly met.”
“The mortgage, which, of course, you know has been a weight about
your brother Joseph’s neck for years, was disposed of with a portion
of that trust money; the house on Dupont Circle was bought with some
of it, and will be furnished from the same fund; it is very large;
I may possibly be overstepping the bounds of a business interview,
yet I feel moved to relieve your natural anxiety for your brother’s
welfare by assuring you that I am reasonably certain, because of that
trust fund, that money matters will not be likely to trouble his
future; and that young man, your nephew, who is also, of course you
remember, the nephew and namesake of your brother Derrick—I may as
well tell you that when he is through with university and theological
seminary, and ready to enter upon his life work, he will not need to
worry about salaries; the fact is he would be able to live a
reasonably long life without any salary at all. This last statement
I am making in strict confidence, young man himself has, as yet,
no idea of any such thing.
“But I wanted to relieve your anxiety about all these relatives, and
to convince you also that your sister Elsie has not reduced herself
to beggary by these financial transactions. In fact, a note from her
received this morning instructed me to give you proof that you had no
need to worry about her. For reasons which, after what you have been
saying to me, I am sure you will appreciate, I have determined to go
beyond the letter of my instructions and tell you that Miss Elsie
Forman is a very wealthy woman. The brother, Derrick Forman, to whom
I have several times referred, had a remarkably well-developed
business faculty; in that new country, to which he went after his
family had lost confidence in him, he set to work with the energy
that had characterized his early boyhood, and won the confidence
of those who employed him. He bought a piece of land that doubled
in value before he had owned it for six months, and from that point
he went steadily forward. He seemed to have ability to foresee the
future from a business standpoint in a way that was really
remarkable. I was very early taken into his confidence in a
business way, and it chanced that I was able to aid him occasionally
in making investments. Then he became interested in miners, and
through them in mines. The results, so far as the miners were
concerned, were tremendous, and are not to be measured by any
estimates that we know how to make in this world—your sister can tell
you much about them; but with the financial part I am very well
acquainted, as I had the honor of being his business adviser; he had
heavy interests in more than one of the paying mines, and was himself
the owner of one of the best. In short, Mr. Forman, your sister
Elsie, entirely apart from this trust fund, of which I have told you,
is by far the wealthiest woman in this city. There is no reason why
she could not buy a whole block of houses on Dupont Circle, if they
were for sale, and have plenty of money left to pay taxes.”
The man of affairs had talked on steadily, waving away at first,
with an imperative hand, an occasional attempt at interruption;
he was not a man to be interrupted when he chose to talk. As the
story progressed his listener ceased to attempt even a question;
he sat like one spellbound. He listened to the end. He said very
little afterwards. He got himself away as soon as he could; he walked
the length of three blocks in the opposite direction from that which
he should have taken, lost in bewildering, whirling thought.
Then, as he looked about him and, realizing his mistake, began to
retrace his steps, he drew a long breath, like one awakening from a
dream, and said, aloud “What a consummate fool!” But whether he meant
Judge Westlake, or his sister Elsie, or himself, this record does not
state, in words.
THE END