THE DAWN OF PROSPERITY.
In April Mrs. Williams, whose health had been poor during all the
winter, failed so rapidly that the doctor who came from the city to
examine her declared she needed an European trip, with a residence
abroad of at least a year, in Spain or Italy.
This idea was eagerly seconded by the lady herself, so Mr. Williams at
once arranged for her to go. She at first proposed to take Gladys with
her, but her husband, guided by Dr. Meigs’ advice, demurred at this,
telling her frankly that the child would be better off at home. She
wept a little, fearing she would be lonely; but Mr. Williams was firm,
and at length she started away with an immense quantity of baggage,
a qualified nurse to care for her ailments, and her own maid. Her
husband travelled with her to New York, saw her safely aboard her
steamer, and then returned to Bingham quite cheerfully, for the poor
lady had improved in health and spirits since the day the trip was
planned, and he had little doubt the residence abroad would tone up her
nerves and restore her to a normal condition.
But, now that his children were without a mother to direct them, Mr.
Williams came to the conclusion that it was his duty to spend more of
his time at home, so he arranged to be in Bingham the best part of
every week, and hired a representative to attend to the city office.
It was now that the father had, for the first time in years, full
opportunity to study the disposition and character of each member
of his family. They were all dear to him, so it is probable that he
discovered many admirable qualities in each of his children; but it
did not take him many days to decide that Annabel, in especial, was
growing into a very sensible and reliable little woman. Mary Louise
was sweet and winning as a June rose, and he was very proud indeed of
his fair and dainty daughter; but it was Annabel alone who seemed to be
interested in him personally, and who questioned him so intelligently
in regard to his daily cares and worries that he soon came to confide
in her many of the business details that no one else, save perhaps Mr.
Jordan, was in any way aware of.
This drew father and daughter closer together, so that they soon became
good comrades and were very happy in one another’s companionship.
One day she said to him: “Papa, I wish you’d build another school-house
at the mill. The old one isn’t big enough for all the children of the
workmen, and so they’re crowding us out of the village school. We have
to hold some of the high school classes over Barnes’ store, even now.”
“Why, I’ll look into the matter,” he answered, rather surprised at a
young girl taking an interest in such things. But on investigation he
found she was right, and that another school-house was greatly needed
in the “new town,” where his cottages stood. Moreover, the school funds
of the county and township were exhausted; so one of the things Mr.
Williams did that summer was to build a pretty new school-house, which
he named “Annabel School,” providing from his own resources for the
hiring of proper teachers.
In the fall important changes occurred in the family at the big house.
Mrs. Williams wrote that she was so much improved in health that she
had decided to extend her residence abroad for some time longer; so the
father, doubting his ability to properly direct the education of his
growing daughters, decided to send Mary Louise and Annabel to a private
academy for young ladies in Washington. This led to Theodore’s begging
to be sent to a military school, and his father, after considering the
matter, consented. So on the first of September the family practically
was broken up, all three of the older children departing for their
new schools, while only Reginald and Gladys remained with their father
at Bingham. And while these lively youngsters did not permit life at
the big house to become very monotonous, Mr. Williams greatly missed
the older ones from the family circle. But others missed them, too,
and among these was Will Carden, who suddenly found a great blank in
his daily existence, caused by the absence of his old school-fellows.
Doubtless he missed the companionship of Annabel most of all, for she
had been his confidant and most intimate friend.
On the very day of their departure Mary Louise and Annabel drove up in
their little pony-cart to say good-bye to Will, and now almost every
week a little letter would come from Nan telling him of her school life
and asking him about the happenings in Bingham, and especially how the
mushroom business progressed.
This business industry of Will’s prospered finely. In July Dr. Meigs
gave him three hundred dollars as his share of the profits for six
months, and the vegetable garden had also brought in an unusual amount
of money; so, for the first time since the father of the family had
been lost at sea, the Cardens found themselves in possession of a nice
bank account, and were relieved of the little worries that always
follow in the wake of poverty.
It was fall, however, before Will and his mother finally decided to
tell Mr. Jordan that they would not keep a boarder any longer. He
had been with them so long, and his assistance had been so greatly
appreciated in the past, that Mrs. Carden felt a natural hesitation in
asking him to leave. So Will took the matter into his own hands, and
one evening, when Mr. Jordan returned from his walk, the boy stopped
him in the little hallway and asked him to step into the sitting room
for a moment.
“Perhaps you’ve noticed,” began Will, “that mother has been getting
more pale and thin during the last two or three years. Dr. Meigs thinks
it’s because she works too hard around the house; and so do I. So
we’ve decided not to keep a boarder any longer, but to let mother take
it easy, and rest up.”
Mr. Jordan’s spectacled eyes had been fixed calmly upon the young
man’s face from the moment he began to speak. Now he gave a scarcely
perceptible start, as if astonished at what he heard, and Will was
quick to note it.
“We’re very grateful, you know,” he hastened to add, “for all your
kindness in the days when we needed help. But my business is prospering
pretty well, just now, and I’m laying by a little money; so we think
it’s best to relieve mother of all the work we can.”
The man still stared at him, reading coolly and deliberately every line
of the boy’s expression.
“I’d like to thank you, also, for all your kindness to my father, in
the old days,” continued Will, after a considerable pause. “Dr. Meigs
has told me how good you were to him, and how you loaned him money. And
you’ve been a good friend to us ever since.”
Still there was no reply. The man neither acknowledged nor denied that
he was entitled to such thanks. He stood upright, facing Will as calmly
as ever; yet for a brief moment his body swayed from side to side, and
then, as if overcome by a powerful effort of will, it stiffened again
and was still.
The boy had nothing more to add to his dismissal of the boarder, and
expected that Mr. Jordan would either reply or go to his room. But
for a time he did neither, and the silence and suspense were growing
unbearable when at last the man spoke.
“I will retain my room,” said he, “and take my meals in the town. You
do not need the room I occupy, and this plan will cause Mrs. Carden
very little work.”
Will was puzzled. Why a man of Mr. Jordan’s means should care to
remain in such a poor home was a mystery. He could get much better
accommodations at the village hotel for about the same sum he paid Mrs.
Carden, and he would be more independent there. But while he canvassed
the matter in his mind Mr. Jordan suddenly moved away and with slow
steps mounted the stairs to his room, thus terminating the interview.
When the boy reported to his mother the result of this conference, she
said:
“He is so reserved in his nature that I think Mr. Jordan shrinks from
any public place where he might come in contact with strangers. That
is perhaps the reason he does not wish to give up his room. He is
accustomed to it, and the man is a slave to habit. Well, let him keep
it, Will, if he wishes to; for so long as he takes his meals elsewhere
it will not, as he says, cause me much inconvenience. Did he say how
much he was willing to pay for the use of the room?”
“No,” replied Will, who was really disappointed, for he had hoped to do
away entirely with the restraint imposed upon the family circle by the
man’s presence.
Mr. Jordan now began to get his meals in town; but after supper he
would take the same long walk he had always done, ending it at the door
of the Carden cottage, when he retired to his room for the night. The
question of room-rent he settled by handing Mrs. Carden two dollars and
a half every Saturday; not a very munificent sum, but perhaps, after
all, as much as such accommodation was worth.
And so the family accepted the man’s presence with hopeless resignation.
“As a matter of fact,” said Will to the doctor, “we can’t get rid of
him.”