IN WHICH ERNEST CALLS ON SEVERAL LORAINES.
IT was after four o'clock on Saturday afternoon when the steamer arrived
at her wharf in New York. The lady and gentleman who had taken so much
interest in Kate were anxious to do something to assist her. They were
not what is called "stylish" people, and they did not put on any airs.
The gentleman was a well-to-do farmer in the western part of the state,
and his wife doubtless superintended the making of the butter when she
was at home. They were fifty years old, with only one child, a grown-up
son; and the lady, the moment she heard that Kate had been ill-treated,
proposed to take her home and "do" for her.
In the course of the afternoon Kate mentioned this offer to me, and
declared that she liked the lady and gentleman very much indeed. She did
not yet know whether her uncle would receive her into his family. If he
was unwilling to come between her and her step-mother, Kate was
determined to go home with the farmer, whose name was Macombe. The
worthy couple really hoped that her uncle would not take her. I found
they were going to remain in New York for a week. They intended to stay
at a small hotel in the lower part of the city, and I promptly adopted
their suggestion to go with them.
Annoying to me, and disagreeable to Kate, as was the publicity to which
we had both been exposed by the events of the day, I could not help
acknowledging that we had been the gainers by it. The interest excited
by my singular conduct, and the sympathy called forth by her helpless
condition after we were separated, made many friends for us. I had
dreaded the disagreeable necessity of going to a hotel or a
boarding-house with Kate, to be stared at, questioned, and suspected,
because we were so young; but now the difficulty was entirely removed.
We could go to a public house in the train of Mr. Macombe and his lady,
and would appear to be a part of his family.
Besides this manifest advantage, I had learned all about the steamers
that went to England, and had actually made the acquaintance of a
gentleman who was going to London, and who was quite willing to be my
friend. If Tom Thornton would keep out of my path till the following
Wednesday, I should embark in the steamer, and be on my way across the
ocean to find my mother.
Half a dozen people offered to assist Kate, when the boat hauled in at
her wharf, and the steward was all kindness and attention. We took a
carriage, and drove to the hotel, whose name I have forgotten; but the
window of my chamber looked out upon the Battery. As soon as we were
comfortably installed in our several apartments, I went to the office
and found a Directory. It contained the names of four men whose surname
was Loraine. I looked a few years later and there was not a single one.
Two of them were merchants, one was a broker, and one was a mason.
Nothing was to be learned from their occupation, and as it was too late
to find the owners of the names and their places of business that day, I
was obliged to defer the search till Monday.
I had left my uncle's without any clothing except that which I wore; and
if I was not in absolute need yet of an additional wardrobe, I knew
enough of the world to believe that a quantity of baggage adds to a
person's respectability, especially at the hotels. I walked up Broadway,
and purchased a good-sized valise, a strong and serviceable article,
which would contain all I should need in my travels. At a clothing store
I bought a good every-day suit, for that I wore was a very nice one--too
good for comfort in travelling. At a furnishing store I procured a
supply of shirts, collars, and handkerchiefs. When I had packed all
these articles in my valise, I felt quite respectable.
As I was walking back to the hotel, I saw in the window of a shop an
article which was labelled "money-belt." It was a kind of pocket-book,
made of wash-leather, attached to a belt to be worn round the body. I
went in and bought one; and it seemed to solve the problem about the
care of the large sum of money in my possession, which had been a great
trouble to me. I could carry my funds in this belt without the danger of
being robbed; and as soon as I reached my room, I enclosed in a piece of
oiled silk the greater part of the bills which I had carried in my
breast pocket, rolled up in a piece of newspaper, put them in the
money-belt, and strapped it around me. It did not feel comfortable at
first; but the very annoyance it caused served to remind me that my
money was safe.
Mr. and Mrs. Macombe were very good, pious people, and, wherever they
were, would as soon have thought of going without their food, as of
staying away from divine service; and we went to church with them three
times on Sunday. They would not even talk about worldly affairs on that
day; and Kate and I were probably saved from answering a great many
questions included under the head of forbidden topics. They seemed to be
greatly pleased to know that I regularly attended the Sunday school at
home. So pure, and true, and good were they, and so much interested in
me, that I wanted to tell them all about my own affairs, and to ask them
whether I had done wrong in taking the will and the money from my
uncle's safe; but I concluded that for the present it would be safer for
me to keep my own counsels. They were excellent people, but their very
simplicity of character might lead them to betray and injure me.
On Monday forenoon, leaving Kate with Mrs. Macombe, while her husband
was attending to his business affairs, I went in search of the four
persons by the name of Loraine. I had written down the address of each,
and obtained from Kate all the information she possessed in regard to
her father. I decided to try one of the merchants first; and as Mrs.
Loraine doubtless knew the name of her deceased husband's brother, I
half expected to meet Tom Thornton blockading the door of the uncle's
counting-room.
When I saw, on the opposite side of the street, the sign "Mortimer
Loraine & Co.," I made sure that Tom Thornton was not in sight, and then
went in. I was directed to the private office of the senior partner. He
was a cold, stiff, formal man, and eyed me from head to foot with a kind
of contempt which I did not appreciate.
"Your business with me, young man?" demanded he, in cast-iron tones.
According to Parkville etiquette, he ought to have asked me to sit
down, and I was waiting for him to do so.
"I called to ask, sir, if you ever had a brother by the name of Austin
Loraine," I replied.
"No, sir," answered he, gruffly.
"Excuse me for troubling you, then, sir," I added, bowing and
retreating.
"Who was Austin Loraine?" he demanded.
"It's of no consequence, sir, if he was not your brother," I replied,
still retreating.
"What is your business with him?" he added.
What my business was did not concern him, and I opened the door and
retired. Mr. Mortimer Loraine rose from his stuffed chair and followed
me, repeating the question he had put to me. I simply told him I wished
to find the brother of Austin Loraine; and in my heart I was very
grateful that he was not the person, for I should have been afraid to
leave Kate in the keeping of such a cast-iron man as he was. He appeared
to think he had a monopoly of the name of Loraine, and no one else ought
to possess it, or to have relations with it which he was not permitted
to know. Giving no further heed to him, I left his store.
My next attempt was with the broker, William, whose office was in Wall
Street. He was quite civil, and assured me he had but one brother, whose
name was Mortimer, and whom I had just seen on Broadway. He was just as
curious to know my business with any one of his name as the first had
been; but I was not willing to give him any satisfaction. The next
Loraine on my list was the other merchant, whose place of business was
in Chambers Street. "McKim & Loraine" was the firm. Impressed with the
belief that the junior member of this firm would prove to be the person
I sought, I was very careful to satisfy myself that Tom Thornton was not
lying in wait for me. In the morning I had put on the new suit of
clothes purchased on Saturday night. I hoped this change in my dress
would enable me to pass unnoticed if he were watching for me.
As I did not see him anywhere in the vicinity,--though I knew it was
possible for him to be concealed in some doorway, or observing me from
some chamber window,--I entered the store of McKim & Loraine. As I went
in, I saw on a corner sign the full names of the partners, the last of
which was "Freeman Loraine." I was directed to the counting-room by a
porter.
"Is Mr. Loraine in?" I asked of a clerk at the desk.
"He is not--gone to Baltimore," replied the man, hardly looking up from
his ledger.
"When will he return?" I inquired, greatly disappointed.
"Don't know; Mr. McKim is in his office; he can tell you."
I entered a small apartment in the corner, and asked for the senior
partner. An elderly gentleman, busy with heaps of letters, informed me
that he was the person.
"I wish to see Mr. Loraine very much," I continued.
"He has been in Baltimore for a week; we expect he will return to-day or
to-morrow--probably to-night," answered Mr. McKim, fixing his eyes upon
the open letter before him.
"Have you been acquainted with Mr. Loraine long?" I ventured to ask.
"Thirty years," replied he, glancing at me with a smile, as though the
acquaintance was a pleasant thing to contemplate. "He has been my
partner for twenty."
"Can you tell me, sir, whether he ever had a brother by the name of
Austin Loraine," I added, emboldened by his smile.
"He had; I knew Austin very well. He died some eight or ten years ago,"
said Mr. McKim, now so much interested in my questions that he threw
down the letter, and gave his attention wholly to me.
"I am very glad to learn this, and I am sorry Mr. Loraine is not at
home."
"Can I do anything for you?" he asked.
"No, sir; thank you; I think not. Mr. Loraine's niece is in the city,
and wishes to see him very much," I added.
"Why don't she go to his house? His family are at home."
"Kate is with some friends, and I think she would rather wait till her
uncle returns, as he is coming so soon. I will call again to-morrow."
"Mr. Loraine lives in Madison Place;" and he gave me the number, which
I wrote down on a paper, and told Mr. McKim where Kate was staying.
When I went out of the store I looked again for Tom Thornton. He must
have come to the city by this time, and I was rather surprised to find
he was not already on my track. I did not see him, but I afterwards
found out, to my sorrow, that his eye was upon me from the moment I went
into the store of McKim & Loraine. I hastened back to the hotel, and
informed Kate that I had found her uncle, but he was not at home. She
was so well cared for by Mrs. Macombe that she was in no haste to leave
her.
After dinner we all took a walk on the Battery and up Broadway, to see
the sights. When we returned, at five o'clock, we found a carriage
waiting to convey Kate and me to Mr. Loraine's house in Madison Place.