THE LOVERS' MISUNDERSTANDING MADE UP--MOSES KEEPS HIS SECRET.
On the evening after his arrival in the city Phillip Lawson found
his way to "Sunnybank." As he stood on the vestibule his thoughts
reverted to the missing paper.
"It was so important; and now that I could have more hope than
before."
It must not be presumed that the young man exulted over the reported
insolvency. He fervently prayed that Marguerite Verne should have
moral courage to bear up under the pressure of circumstances that
must necessarily follow, but he hoped that a life of usefulness
would be more acceptable than that of luxury hitherto enjoyed.
"If it were only in my power to pay off every farthing of those
enormous debts gladly I would do it for her sake though she might
never know who was her benefactor."
Such were the tenor of Mr. Lawson's thoughts as he advanced towards
Mr. Verne and received a hearty welcome--almost an ovation.
"Mr. Lawson, you cannot imagine how much I missed you, else you
surely could not have stayed so long!" exclaimed the host springing
from his chair like a boy of sixteen.
"Only five days in all, sir, since I was here."
"Five days!" cried Mr. Verne drawing his hand across his furrowed
forehead as if to gain clearer perception, "five days! dear me, it
seems like five months--five months."
Mr. Verne seemed for a moment or so to have forgotten that he had a
guest for he was lost in thought. Presently his mind cleared.
"How did you leave all at 'Gladswood.' In fact I forgot that you
were there."
Mr. Lawson then gave a brief description of the days spent at the
farmhouse and was pleased to note the very great interest with which
Mr. Verne listened.
The solicitor was puzzled. He expected to find his friend in a state
of deep dejection, but instead he was more cheerful than usual, and
seemed to be exulting over some secret or newly-found joy.
"He may be rejoicing in the thought that his child is soon to be in
a position which his reverses cannot affect."
Phillip Lawson had no sooner uttered these words in an undertone,
than a deep chill seemed to paralyze his muscular frame.
"Just as if that should be of import to a poor beggar like me, who
has no more than can keep the wolf from the door."
Strictly speaking the last remark was somewhat hyperbolical, for as
we have hitherto been informed the young solicitor's professional
emoluments were now anything but scanty, but it was in the
bitterness of spirit that he made use of the words.
"Have you heard from Mrs. and Miss Verne, sir."
"There, I would have forgotten! It seems to me I am getting old
fast--nothing tells on a man like that," said Mr. Verne, smiling and
drawing from the pigeon-hole of a small desk a neatly-folded letter.
"My little girl refers to you--listen to this"--and the fond father
read a portion of the letter, in which she referred to the young
lawyer, and begged that her father would convey her thanks for the
very great thoughtfulness of Mr. Lawson in trying to cheer him in
her absence and filling up the vacant place beside him.
"Tell him, dear papa, I shall never forget him for it--never."
Mr. Verne was deeply affected as he read the last sentence; also was
his visitor.
"My Marguerite, she cares yet for her doting father. Yes, Mr.
Lawson, my child worships those who are kind to me."
"You can never fully express Miss Verne's worth, sir. I am only too
happy to do anything that would secure her good wishes, for coming,
as they do from one so good, they most certainly result in good."
"The man is honest," thought Phillip Lawson; "he does not wish me to
think that his daughter has any other feeling than that of
gratitude, and I honor him for it."
The young man glanced around the elegant parlor with its glittering
furniture and costly _vertu_, and felt sad at the thought of
the great change that was in store for the delicate girl who had
been reared in the lap of luxury. He wished to refer to business,
but Mr. Verne evaded him at every turn, and when he rose to go, felt
somewhat uneasy and disappointed.
"There is something astir," thought Phillip, as he passed down
Mecklenburg street and turned up Carmarthen, on his way home. "There
is something in the wind. I can already feel it in my bones,"
exclaimed the young man, striding along with a rate of velocity
equal to that of his thoughts.
A sudden fancy seized him. Quick as lightning it darted through
every nerve and electrified him with pain.
"It must be so! Fool that I was not to see it before. Tracy has
proposed in the nick of time. He has had an accomplice whom it is
easy to guess. It's all up with me now, and she can send kind wishes
without a feeling of restraint"
Phillip Lawson was indeed sore at heart. He reasoned long and argued
the ease to the best of his ability; but love is one thing and law
is another--the two abstracts cannot coincide any more than can a
parallelogram coincide with an equilateral triangle. "But must I
stand calmly by and make no effort to save her from such a fate.
Merciful heavens! There's no clue for me to prove what I had already
known. Why was I so unfortunate. Surely heaven will not suffer
Hubert Tracy to accomplish his designs. I wish him no bodily harm,
but I trust that he may yet atone for his deeds, and live to see the
error of his ways."
By the time the solicitor reached his home he was calm and
collected.
"Brother Phillip," was the first exclamation he heard; "look, are
not these beautiful. Josie Jordan brought them this afternoon. She
kept me laughing nearly all the time she was here telling about the
fun she had at 'Gladswood'."
"Ah! the ferns are from Jennie Montgomery, I presume," said the
brother, giving them a second glance of admiration.
"Yes, and the sweetest little letter you ever saw beside. Isn't she
lovely, Brother Phillip?"
The _petite_ little maiden had now nestled closely in her
brother's arms; her flaxen curls showered around her in sad
disorder, while one plump little arm was entwined around his neck.
"You must be dreaming, Brother Phillip. Why, you never heard my
question."
"I beg your pardon, little one, for this time. Miss Jennie is all
that you think her to be," replied the brother, somewhat gravely.
"Do you know what I was thinking of, you dear old brother," said
Lottie, emphasizing the speech with an affectionate hugging. "I was
thinking of all the nice young ladies you are acquainted with, and
wondering which one I would like you to marry."
"What put such notions into your head, you silly child. Have I not a
little wife already. But let me hear the rest of it."
Phillip Lawson indulged his pet sister in all her pastimes, and was
now an attentive listener to her proposals.
"You know, Brother Phillip, there is Miss Verne--."
"Yes--go on," said the brother in a quick, nervous manner.
"And there's Jennie Montgomery and Louise Rutherford and Miss
Rushton and Josie Jordan, and--"
"I think you have got enough now to decide from."
"Well," continued Lottie, not appearing to notice the interruption.
"There is Miss Marguerite. I love her dearly. I feel like kissing
her picture every time I see it--well she is an angel, Brother
Phillip, and sometimes I think she is too good to marry anyone."
"A compliment to the sterner sex," remarked Phillip, in an
undertone, then he exclaimed, "Child, where did you get such ideas?"
"Oh, I hear the girls in school nearly every day, and yesterday
Belle Morris asked me if I would like you to get married."
"I think the young ladies might find more profitable employment
during study hours."
"Oh, we don't talk only at recess. Now please don't be angry,
Brother Phillip, for I never said anything."
"Thank you little Miss Discretion. I am very glad that you do not
indulge in gossip. Listen to what Solomon says," and going to the
book-case Phillip took therefrom a Bible, and read from Proverbs
xvii. 9,--
"He that repeateth a matter separateth _very_ friends."
Lottie saw that her brother did not wish to hear more on the
subject, and she again took up the bunch of pressed ferns which had
arrived from "Gladswood."
"I wish that I could be as good as Jennie Montgomery. Why she's
scarcely ever idle one moment during the whole day, and she never
seems happy but when she is helping some person. Do you know Brother
Phillip the oldest people around love her, and she goes and reads to
the sick and runs all the errands for the sick herself."
"I am glad you observed so closely my dear, and I hope Lottie Lawson
may one day be as good a woman as friend Jennie," said Phillip very
earnestly.
"Oh, I know I never can have the happy way of setting everything
right that is wrong, and taking the tangles out of the most common
affairs the same way that Jennie does. Oh, no, Brother Phillip,
don't expect me to be anything like that."
The fond brother could not fail to see that there was a vein of good
sense running all through the child's remarks, and he also noted her
quaint style of application.
The appearance of Kitty, the housemaid, interrupted further reply.
With a respectful air the domestic made known to her master that,
owing to the death of a near relative, she had to remove to the
country to take charge of a family of small children.
"Indeed, Mr. Lawson, you have been a good, kind master to me, and
that angel there"--pointing to Lottie--"the likes of her is not in
St. John. But I'll hear from yous often and when Tim is in town
he'll run in to see how yous are gettin' on."
"And you must go immediately, I suppose?" said the young man who
indeed regretted the loss of an industrious and honest domestic.
"Next Saturday, sir, Tim will be after me, and the children is a
sufferin' between whiles."
"Very well, Kitty, we must do the best we can," and Mr. Lawson was
already prospecting over a trip to Mrs. Lee's Intelligence Office to
procure a successor to the lamented Kitty.
"Look here Brother Phillip, I believe that I can get a new girl
without any trouble."
"You little one!" cried the young man, laughing at the idea of such
a grave responsibility being associated with the child.
"Wait a moment until I come back," said the latter who in a very
short time reappeared, breathless with anticipation.
"Yes indeed, Melindy Thrasher is going to leave Mr. Verne's--Kitty
says so. Please let me go down and see. You know I am growing quite
old now and ought to be able to do lots of things."
"As you wish, Lottie; but remember you must first find out if Mr.
Verne is aware of the fact."
Within a week Melindy Thrasher was duly installed as general servant
in the Lawson cottage, a fact which is worthy of mention as it is
connected with other important matters relative to the affairs of
the solicitor.
The new help gave general satisfaction and Lottie was much amused
with the girl's primitive manners, which even the associations of
"Sunny bank" could not altogether affect.
One bright morning as the former was getting ready for school, she
was accosted by Melindy in the following strain:
"Law sakes, Miss Lottie, how things do come 'round. Jest to think
that you and the young lady that was up to Mr. Montgomery's
happenin' to be the same identical one, and I was up to meetin' the
same Sunday. It seems so queer that of all places I should happen to
get here. But as I say there's no tellin' what may happen."
"What a coincidence it is," thought Phillip, laughing as on passing
through the back parlor he overheard Melindy's remark.
He had gone to the post-office on that morning and as he took out
the contents of the well-filled box discovered a letter which on
opening he saw was from Marguerite.
"What can have prompted her to write. It would seem as if some one
else had written it. Marguerite Verne would as soon think of cutting
her right hand off as to write me unsolicited. And for what is she
grateful. It seems so ridiculous when all that I have done was to
entertain myself."
The young lawyer once more read over the precious missive which was
written in the most simple, yet graceful style. It stirred him
deeply.
It recalled the fair girl in all her _spirituelle_ beauty, and
made him doubly rebellious over the circumstances that thwarted all
his hopes.
"Why was I not some heir to an earldom, for nothing less is
befitting such a one," thought the young man, feeling all the
bitterness that a heart can feel.
Strange indeed, that from the moment Phillip Lawson uttered these
words he was a richer man, though he knew it not. He had to drink
deeper of the dregs of adversity ere he shall have cause for
rejoicing.
Marguerite gave short pithy accounts of her visit, and was quite
enthusiastic over the wonderful sights that she saw on every hand;
also, the walks, drives and various places of entertainment.
"It's no use to think any more about it. They have at length
succeeded in making her what I would have one time sworn that she
never would be--a woman of the world. Ah truly 'the spirit is
willing, but the flesh is weak.' Six months ago I never could have
believed that Marguerite Verne would have yielded to such worldly
influence. She seemed an angel among sinners. And she speaks of
Hubert Tracy in such a gushing style--so foreign to the modest
high-toned sentiments which always inspired me with a love of
truth."
"Can it be possible that Marguerite Verne wrote that letter?"
exclaimed Phillip Lawson, holding it up before him and scrutinizing
every line. Then throwing it aside, added, with a deep tone of
resentment, "Is it possible that one must lose all faith in
humanity?" Then, as if some good spirit had whispered better things,
He raised his eyes and faintly exclaimed, "Father forgive me, I
have been sorely tempted," and set about some work with a fiercer
determination than ever to make his will subservient to his reason.
Melindy Thrasher had not seen more than a fortnight's service in the
Lawson family when Mr. Spriggins made it convenient to stay and
spend the evening.
Phillip being called away upon business the happy pair solaced
themselves in the inviting back parlor, and whiled away the hour in
the way that only such lovers can when one takes into consideration
the candies and peanuts that were conspicuous on this occasion.
When the latch-key turned in the front door all was quiet within,
and the back parlor in perfect order. Faint sounds beneath the
window told the indulgent master that Melindy was taking leave of
her lover.
Mr. Lawson was not guilty of eavesdropping, but what could he
do--the voices became more distinct.
"I tell you what it is, Moses Spriggins, there hain't been no
secrets between us afore this, and I'd like to know why you can't
tell me what business took you to Mr. Verne's office. Now you know
you was there just as well as you know the head is on your body."
"Come, come, Melindy--I ain't got no secrets from you. It's only a
little bit of bisness that I was a-doin' for 'Squire Verne--(Mr.
Spriggins had a habit of addressing all men of any importance by
such appellation)--and it's his secret, not mine, and you can't
blame a fellar for a-keepin' it when he is asked to do it, can you,
Melindy?"
At this declaration the said Melindy was somewhat mollified, but
muttered something about the two being one.
"Wal, never mind now," said Moses, "that's a dear Melindy; let's
make up," and suiting the action to the word the lovers made up, and
Melindy was satisfied that the secret did not belong to her
affianced.
"But hold on, Melindy, how did you hear that I was at the office?
That's the stickin' pint; eh, Melindy, I've got you now."
"I ain't a-goin' to tell you, Moses Spriggins; that's my secret,"
said Melindy, affecting an air of disdain.
"Now you've been a-listenin', that's a sure thing, Melindy, and I
think it's a-cryin' out shame to do sich a mean thing."
"Now look here, Moses Spriggins; I'm not a'goin' to stand no
lecturin' from you, for if you don't like it, you can git as soon as
you like, for there's Ben Buckler would give his eye tooth to cut
you out!"
"Come, come, Melindy; we won't say anything more about it. We ain't
a-goin' to be quarrelin' over nothin'." And very soon the lovers
made up a second time, while the solicitor turned away, indulging in
the same amount of curiosity as expressed by Melindy Jane Thrasher.
"It is strange, indeed. Moses is truthful. Mr. Verne has some
secret, and he could have no more trustworthy confidante than the
self-same Mr. Moses Spriggins," and soliloquizing thus Phillip
Lawson sought the land of dreams--
"Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep."