IX

In a few days Mr. Gardiner called at the Church Street house on behalf

of the trust company, to express to its ward its sympathy with her in

her bereavement and to find out what her situation was, and her needs

for the future. Adelle, sitting opposite the portly, bald-headed bank

officer in the little front room, did not feel especially excited. She

could not imagine what this visit might mean to her. She answered all

his questions in a low, colorless voice, promptly enough and

intelligently enough. Yes, her aunt was her only relative so far as she

knew. No, she had made no plans--she would like to stay where she was if

she could. It would be pretty hard to do everything alone, etc. As the

trust officer, puzzled by the situation, continued to ply her with

questions so that he might gain a clearer understanding of the

circumstances, he became more and more perplexed. This was something

quite out of his experience as a trust officer. He had supposed in

making this call that he would have merely a perfunctory duty to

perform, to ratify some obviously "sensible" plan for the future of the

institution's ward. As he happened to have other business in Alton, he

called personally instead of writing a note.

But now he discovered that this fifteen-year-old girl had absolutely no

relatives, nor "proper friends," nor visible means of support except the

income from "a third-class boarding-house," as he told the president of

the trust company the next day. Clearly the company must do something

for its ward, whose fortune they were now beginning to discuss in seven

figures.

"She must have a suitable allowance."

That the good Mr. Gardiner saw at once. For to his thrifty, suburban

soul the situation of a girl of fifteen with large prospects in a

third-class rooming-house was truly deplorable. The dignities and

proprieties of life were being outraged: it might affect the character

of the trust company should it become known....

Rising at last from the dusty sofa where he had placed his large person

for this talk, the trust officer said kindly,--

"We must consider what is best to be done, my girl. Can you come to the

bank to see me next Monday?"

Adelle saw no reason why she should not go to see him Monday, as high

school still seemed impossible with the house on her hands.

"Come in, then, Monday morning!" And the trust officer went homewards to

confide his perplexity to his wife as trust officers sometimes do. It

was a queer business, his. As trust officer he had once gone out to some

awful place in Dakota to take charge of the remains of a client who had

got himself shot in a brawl, and brought the body back and buried it

decently in a New England graveyard with his ancestors. He had advised

young widows how to conduct themselves so that they should not be

exposed to the wiles of rapacious men. Once even he had counseled

matrimony to a client who was difficult to control and had approved,

unofficially, of her selection of a mate. A good many of the social

burdens of humanity came upon his desk in the course of the day's

business, and he was no more inhuman than the next man. He was a father

of a respectable family in the neighboring suburb of Chester. His habit

was naturally to hunt for the proper formula for each situation as it

arose and to apply this formula conscientiously. According to Mr.

Gardiner, the duty of trust companies to society consisted in applying

suitable formulas to the human tangles submitted to them by their

clients. And in the present case Mrs. Gardiner suggested the necessary

formula.

"Why don't you send the girl to a good boarding-school? You say she's

fifteen and will have money."

"Yes,--some money, perhaps a good deal," her husband replied. Even in

the bosom of his family, the trust officer was guarded in statement.

"How much?" Mrs. Gardiner demanded.

"What difference does it make how much, so long as we can pay her school

bills?"

"It makes all the difference in the world!" the wife replied, with the

superior tone of wisdom. "It makes the difference whether you send her

to St. Catherine's or Herndon Hall."

It will be seen that the trust officer's wife believed in that clause of

the catechism that recommends contentment with that state of life to

which Providence hath called one, and also that education should fit one

for the state of life to which he or she was to be called by Providence.

St. Catherine's, as the trust officer very well knew, was a modest

institution for girls under the direction of the Episcopal Church, for

which he served as trustee, where needy girls were cheaply provided with

a "sensible" education, and "the household arts" were not neglected. In

other words, the girls swept their rooms, made their own beds, and

washed the dishes after the austere repasts, and the fee was

correspondingly small. Whereas Herndon Hall--well, every one who has

young daughters to launch upon the troubled sea of social life, and the

ambition to give them the most exclusive companionship and no very high

regard for learning,--at least for women,--knows all about Herndon Hall,

by that name or some other equally euphonious. The fees at Herndon Hall

were fabulous, and it was supposed to be so "careful" in its scrutiny of

applicants that only those parents with the best introductions could

possibly secure admission for their daughters. There were, of course, no

examinations or mental tests of any kind.

Mrs. Gardiner, who had the ambition to send her Alicia to Herndon Hall

in due course, if the trust officer felt that he could afford the

expense, opened her eyes when her husband replied to her question

promptly,--

"I guess we'll figure on Herndon Hall."

Mrs. Gardiner inferred that the prospects of the trust company's ward

must be quite brilliant, and she was prepared to do her part.

"Why don't you ask the girl out here over Sunday?" she suggested.

"Oh, she's a queer little piece," the trust officer replied evasively.

"I don't believe you would find her interesting--it isn't necessary."

X

On her next visit to the splendid home of her guardian, Adelle was

received by no less a person than the president of the trust company

himself. In conference between the officers of the trust company it had

been decided that the president, his assistant, and the trust officer

should meet the girl, explain to her cautiously the nature of her

prospects, and announce to her the arrangement for her education that

they had made. But before recording this interview a word should be said

about the present situation of Clark's Field.

The search that the bank had started for trace of the missing Edward S.

and his heirs had resulted as futilely as the more feeble measures taken

earlier by Samuel Clark. It is astonishing how completely people can

obliterate themselves, give them a few years! There was absolutely no

clue in all the United States for discovering this lost branch of the

Alton Clarks, nor any reason to believe in their existence except the

established fact that in 1848 Edward S., with a wife and at least three

babies, had left Chicago for St. Louis. Although the Alton branch of the

Clarks had shown no powers of multiplying,--their sole representative

now being one little girl,--nevertheless there might be a whole colony

of Clarks somewhere interested in one half of the valuable Field. But

more than fifty years had now passed since the final disappearance of

Edward S. Clark, and the law was willing to consider means of ignoring

all claims derived from him. It was the young assistant to the

president, Mr. Ashly Crane, who worked out the details of the plan by

which the restless title was to be finally "quieted" and the trust

company enabled to dispose of its ward's valuable estate. Some of the

officers and larger stockholders of the trust company were interested in

an affiliated institution known as the Washington Guaranty and Title

Company, which was prepared to do business in the guaranteeing of

real-estate titles that were from one reason or another defective, which

it is needless to say the majority are. For a reasonable sum this new

company undertook to perfect the title to Clark's Field and then to

insure purchasers and sellers against any inconvenient claims that might

arise in the future, defending the title against all comers or in case

of defeat assuming the losses. A very convenient institution in a

society where the laws of property are so intricate and sacred! As a

first step there was an extensive public advertisement for the missing

heir or heirs, and then in due form a "judicial sale" of the property by

order of court, after which the court pronounced the title to Clark's

Field, so long clouded, to be "quieted." And woe to any one who might

now dare to raise that restless spirit, be he Edward S. or any

descendant of his!

This legal process of purification for Clark's Field being under way,

the ingenious mind of Mr. Ashly Crane turned to the next problem, which

was to dispose of the property advantageously. Manifestly the Washington

Trust Company could not go into the real estate business on behalf of

its ward and peddle out slices of her Field. That would not be proper,

nor would it be especially profitable to the trust company. Mr. Crane,

therefore, conceived the brilliant idea of forming a "Clark's Field

Associates" corporation to buy the undeveloped tract of land from the

trust company, who as guardian could sell it in whole or in part, and

the new corporation might then proceed at its leisure to "develop" the

old Field advantageously. For the benefit of the ignorant it maybe

bluntly stated here that this was merely a device for buying Adelle's

property cheaply and selling it at a big profit,--not as crude a method

as the other that the Veteran had almost fallen a victim to, because the

Washington Trust Company was a "high-toned" institution and did not do

things crudely; but in effect the device was the same.

The Clark's Field Associates was, therefore, incorporated and made an

offer to the trust company for Clark's Field,--a fair offer in the

neighborhood of a million dollars for the fifty-acre tract of city land.

An obstacle, however, presented itself at this point, which in the end

forced the Associates to modify their plan materially. The sale had to

be approved by the probate judge, the same Judge Orcutt who had once

before befriended the unknown little girl. This time the judge examined

the scheme carefully, even asked for a list of the Associates, which was

an innocent collection of dummy names, and finally after conference with

the trust officers insisted that the ward should reserve for herself one

half the shares of the Clark's Field Associates, thus obtaining an

interest in the possible benefits to be derived from their transactions.

This was accordingly done, and the subscription to the stock of the new

corporation by some of the capitalists who had been invited to

"participate" in this juicy melon was cut down one half. They were not

pleased by the act of the probate judge, but they accepted half the

melon with good grace, assuring the judge through Mr. Crane that it was

a highly speculative venture anyhow to put Clark's Field on the market,

and the Associates might lose every penny they risked on it. The judge

merely smiled. Poet that he was, he was by no means a fool in the

affairs of this life.

When Adelle made her second visit to the Washington Trust Company, the

scheme outlined above had not been perfected, but the legal process was

far enough along to show promise of a brilliant fulfillment. The "queer

little piece," as Mr. Gardiner described Adelle to his wife, had thus

grown in importance within a brief year to such dignified persons as

President West of the trust company and the wealthy stockholders who

under various disguises were embarking upon the venture of the Clark's

Field Associates. She was no longer merely the heiress of a legal mess:

she was the means by which a powerful modern banking institution hoped

to make for its inner circle of patrons a very profitable investment. So

these gentlemen examined with curiosity the shy little person who slowly

advanced across the carpeted floor of Mr. Gardiner's private office. The

president himself rose from his chair and extended to Adelle a large,

handsome, white hand with the polite greeting,--

"I am very glad to meet you, Miss Clark."

Adelle was more than ordinarily dumb. She had expected to see the trust

officer alone as she had the other time, and in the presence of these

strangers she took her one means of defense,--silence. The president,

however, did the talking, and he talked more humanly than stuffy Mr.

Gardiner. After expressing a deep sympathy with Adelle for the death of

her aunt (of whose existence he had not been aware before this week), he

easily shifted to the topic of Adelle's future. She must, of course,

continue her education. Adelle replied that she should like to keep on

with school, by which she meant the Alton Girls' High.

"Of course, of course," the president said easily. "Every girl should

have the proper sort of education, and it is all the more important when

her responsibilities and opportunities in life are likely to be

increased by the possession of property."

But Adelle did not see how she could continue at the high school, now

that her aunt had died and there was no one but herself to look after

the roomers.

"Oh, very easily, very easily," the president thought. "How would you

like to go to boarding-school, my dear?"

Adelle did not know all at once. She had read something about

boarding-schools in story-books, but her conception of them was hazy.

And she ventured to say out loud that they must take a "sight of money."

The president of the trust company smiled for the benefit of his

fellow-officers and proceeded to break the news of the rich expectations

awaiting the timid little girl.

"I think we shall find enough money somehow to send you to a good

school," he said gayly. "You know we have some money in the bank that

will be yours,--oh, not a great deal at present, but enough to give you

a good education, provided you don't spend too much on clothes, young

lady."

This was a cruel jest, considering the quality of Adelle's one poor

little serge dress which she had on, and she took it quite literally.

While absorbing the idea that she must make her clothes go as far as

possible, she made no remark.

"The property that we hold in trust for you until you shall become of

age," the president resumed more seriously, "is not yet in such

condition that we can tell you exactly how much it will amount to. But

it is safe to say that all your reasonable needs will be provided for.

You'll never have to worry about money!"

He congratulated himself upon the happy phrasing of his announcement. It

was cautiously vague, and yet must relieve the little girl of all

apprehension or worry. Adelle made no response. For a Clark to be told

that there was no need to worry over money was too astounding for

belief.

"Now," said the president, who felt that he had done everything called

for in the situation, "I will leave Mr. Gardiner to explain all the

details to you. I hope you will enjoy your new school.... Whenever you

are in the city, come in and see us!"

He shook the little girl's hand and went off with his good-looking young

assistant, whose sharp glances had made Adelle shyer than ever. The two

men smiled as they went out, as though they were saying to

themselves,--"Queer little piece to have all that money!"

Mr. Gardiner took a great many words to explain to Adelle that her

guardians had thought it best "after due consideration" to send her to

an excellent boarding-school for young ladies--Herndon Hall. He rolled

the name with an unction he had learned from his wife. Herndon Hall, it

seemed, was in a neighboring State, not far from the great city of New

York, and Adelle must prepare herself for her first long railroad

journey. She would not have to take this alone, however, for Miss

Thompson, the head teacher, had telephoned the trust company that she

herself would be in B---- on the following Friday and would escort Miss

Clark to the Hall. Adelle could be ready, of course, by Friday.

Here Adelle demurred. There were the roomers--what would happen to them?

And the old Church Street house--what was to become of the house? The

banker waved aside these practical woman's considerations with a smile.

Some one would be sent out from the trust company to look after all such

unimportant matters. So, intimidated rather than persuaded, Adelle left

the trust company building to prepare herself for her new life that was

to begin on the following Friday noon.

They were accustomed to doing large things in the Washington Trust

Company, and of course they did small things in a large way. But the

little orphan's fate had really been the subject of more consideration

than might possibly be inferred from the foregoing. The school matter

had been carefully canvassed among the officers of the company. Mr.

Gardiner had expressed some doubts as to the wisdom of sending Adelle at

once to a large, fashionable school, even if she had the money to pay

for it. Vague glimmerings of reason as to what really might make for the

little girl's happiness in life troubled him, even after his wife's

unhesitating verdict. But President West had no doubts whatever and

easily bore down his scruples. He belonged to a slightly superior class

socially and did not hold Herndon Hall in the same awe in which it was

regarded in the Gardiner household. His daughters had friends who had

got what education they had under Miss Annette Thompson and had married

well afterwards and "taken a good position in society," which was really

the important thing. Miss Thompson herself was of a very good New York

family,--he had known her father who had been something of a figure in

finance until the crash of ninety-three,--and the head of Herndon Hall

was reputed to have an excellent "formative" influence upon her girls.

And certainly that raw little specimen who had presented herself in his

office needed all the "formative influence" she could get!

"We must give her the best," he pronounced easily, "for she is likely to

be a rich woman some day."

It may be seen that President West agreed with Mrs. Gardiner's practical

interpretation of the catechism. After his interview with Adelle he said

to the trust officer,--"She needs--everything! Herndon Hall will be the

very thing for her--will teach her what a girl in her position ought to

know."

These remarks reveal on his part a special philosophy that will become

clearer as we get to know better Miss Annette Thompson and Herndon Hall.

The officers of the trust company felt that in sending their ward to

this fashionable girls' school, they were doing their duty by her not

only safely but handsomely, and thenceforth dismissed her from their

thoughts, except when a subordinate brought them at regular intervals a

voucher to sign before issuing a check on behalf of Adelle....

"Terribly crude little piece," the president of the trust company said

of Adelle, thinking of his own vivacious daughters, who at her age had

been complete little women of the world, and of all the other pretty,

confident, voluble girls he met in his social life. "She has seen

nothing of life," he said in extenuation, by which he meant naturally

that Adelle Clark had never known how "nice people live," had never been

to dancing-school or parties, or country clubs or smart dressmakers, and

all the rest of what to him constituted a "suitable education" for a

young girl who was to inherit money.

* * * * *

Meanwhile the "crude little piece" returned to her old home, somewhat

shaken in mind by what had happened to her. It never entered her little

head to argue with the august officers of the trust company, who stood

to her as the sacred symbol of Authority. She must buy a trunk, pack it,

and be at the Eclair Hotel in B---- by noon on the following Friday.

Those were her orders. She looked wonderingly at the two hundred dollar

check which Mr. Gardiner had given her for the expense of making herself

ready. She had never before seen two hundred dollars. She knew only

abstractly by the way of her arithmetic that such vast sums of money

existed. And now she was expected to spend this fortune in the space of

three days upon herself. She folded up the slip of paper and tucked it

carefully into her purse. When she presented it at one of the shops in

the Square in payment for the cheap trunk she had selected, she started

a local sensation. By the time the check had traveled from the clerk to

the proprietor and thence to the River National Bank, which did not take

long, it was known in that busy neighborhood that Clark's Field had made

good at last! Here was ready money from it as evidence. Adelle Clark was

in fact the heiress that her mother Addie had been in fancy.

The manager of the livery-stable may have had his regrets for the light

manner in which he had treated old Pike's suggestion. He drove the girl

himself into B---- on Friday with her new trunk strapped behind the

closed carriage and touched his high hat when she dismounted before the

flunky-guarded doors of the hotel. Adelle did not notice the hat

business: she gave her old friend and best "roomer" her hand as she said

good-bye, then slowly mounted the stone steps of the hotel. And that was

the last that Church Street saw of the Clarks.

The liveryman, slowly retracing his way across the bridge to Alton,

mused upon the picture that the little girl presented in her blue school

suit, going up the steps of the Eclair Hotel. It was all like a stage

story, he felt, and he thought long about the Clarks, whom he had known

for two generations and about human fate generally. He summed up his

reflections in one enigmatic exclamation,--"That blamed old pasture!"

Adelle was an "heiress." Already she had been whisked away from Church

Street to her new life. And all because of "that blamed old

pasture"--otherwise Clark's Field.