RALPH RAYMOND'S HEIR.
In the revelation which had been made him by Ralph Raymond, Paul Morton
found fruitful subject of meditation. To begin with, he had been
disappointed to find a young life between himself and the estate which
he coveted. But, on the other hand, that estate was twenty thousand
dollars larger than he supposed; and, moreover, as the boy's guardian,
he would have in his own hands the control of the whole for nearly seven
years, and be paid in the meantime a handsome sum for his trouble.
Besides, many things might happen in seven years. The boy was young and
healthy, so his father said, but life is uncertain in all cases. He
might die, and in that event, the entire property without reserve, would
fall to him--Paul Morton. The situation, therefore, was far from being
as discouraging as it might have been.
The next morning Paul Morton was sitting at the breakfast table with
his wife opposite him. As nothing has yet been said of Mrs. Morton, a
few words of description may not be inappropriate.
Mrs. Morton, then, was ten years younger than her husband. She had
belonged to a proud but poor family, and had married from no impulse of
affection, but because she considered Mr. Morton a rich man who could
give her a luxurious home. No sympathy need be wasted upon her, for she
had very little heart, and lived only for ostentation. There had been
very little domestic harmony between the two. She had shown herself
lavishly extravagant, even beyond her husband's means, and any tendency
on his part to curb her extravagance was met by biting sarcasm, and an
exhibition of ill temper which soon compelled him to surrender at
discretion.
Such was the ill-assorted couple who sat at the breakfast table on the
morning of which I am speaking.
Mr. Morton, of whose personal appearance I have not yet spoken, was in
appearance fifty-four years of age, though he was really several years
younger. He had lost nearly all his hair, retaining only a few locks on
either side of his head. There was a furtive look about his eyes
calculated to inspire distrust. He seemed reluctant to look one full in
the face. On the whole the impression given by his features was
unfavorable. They seemed to indicate a mean, ignoble disposition, so
truly do the inner qualities mark their impress on the face.
"Well, Mr. Morton," said his wife, leaning back in her chair, "have you
brought me the money I asked for yesterday?"
"No," said Mr. Morton uneasily, for he knew that this reply would elicit
a storm.
"And why not, I should like to know?" she exclaimed, with flashing eyes.
"Don't pretend to say you forgot it, for I won't believe any such
nonsense."
"No, I didn't forget it, Mrs. Morton," said her husband, "but the fact
is, it was not convenient for me to bring it."
"Not convenient! What do you mean by that, Mr. Morton?" exclaimed the
lady in an angry voice.
"It is just as I say. Business is very dull and money is tight."
"That is what you always say," said Mrs. Morton, curling her lip.
"Whether I do or not, it is true enough now. I wish it wasn't."
"I only asked for a hundred dollars. Surely that would make no
difference in your business."
"That is where you are mistaken. If you will be kind enough to remember
how often you call upon me for such trifles, and have a head for
arithmetic, you can estimate what they will amount to in the course of a
year."
"But I haven't a head for arithmetic, and don't want to have. I always
despised it. All I know is, that I have picked out a lovely silk dress
pattern at Stewart's, and I want to go round and secure it this morning,
or I may lose it altogether."
"If you do, I think you will manage to survive it."
"You'd better not try to be sarcastic, Mr. Morton. You haven't the
brains for it, and it isn't in your line."
"You are complimentary."
"No, I only show a proper discrimination. Heaven knows I have lived with
you years enough, and weary ones at that, to understand you thoroughly.
Can't you send me up a check from your store? It will be in time if I
receive it by eleven o'clock."
"No, I cannot," said Paul Morton, with unusual firmness.
"So you refuse, do you?" exclaimed Mrs. Morton, in deep anger.
"I do; and for a good reason."
"Give me your reason, then. I should like to judge of it myself."
"Then I will tell you without reserve, what I had not intended to
mention. In all my mercantile career I was never in such danger of ruin
as at the present. The dull times at which you sneer have proved very
disastrous to me. It is all I can do to keep my head above water. Every
day I fear that the crash will come, and that instead of being able to
afford you this establishment, I shall be obliged to remove into some
humble dwelling in Brooklyn, and seek for a position as clerk or
bookkeeper. How would you fancy this change, madam? Yet it is at such a
time you harass me with your unreasonable demands for money. If I am
ruined, it will be some satisfaction that you, who have had so much to
do with bringing it on, are compelled to suffer its inconveniences with
me."
Mrs. Morton turned pale while he was speaking, for she had never known
anything of her husband's business affairs, and supposed that such a
thing as his failure was impossible. To be reduced to poverty, where a
wife loves her husband and is beloved in return, is not so hard; but
where there is no pretence of love, and the wife lives only for show, it
is felt as a terrible misfortune.
"You are only saying this to frighten me," she said after a pause, with
an attempt to rally.
"If you think that, you are utterly mistaken," said her husband. "I
wish, indeed, that it were true, but unfortunately it is not. My
position is to the full, as hazardous, and my ruin as imminent as I have
told you. You can imagine whether I have a hundred dollars to spare for
you to spend at Stewart's."
Mrs. Morton was for a brief time silent. She hardly knew how to answer;
at last she said, "There's your sick friend upstairs. Isn't he a rich
man?"
"Yes."
"He won't live very long, probably. Won't he leave you anything?"
"I expected that he would leave me his entire fortune, according to an
old promise between us; but only yesterday I learned that he has a son
living."
"And you will receive nothing, then?" said his wife, disappointed.
"Not so. I shall be left guardian of the boy, and for seven years I
shall receive half the income of the property in return for my
services."
"And how much is the property?"
"A hundred thousand dollars or more."
"What will be your share of the income?"
"Probably not less than four thousand dollars."
"Four thousand dollars!" said the lady with satisfaction. "Then you
won't have to get a situation as clerk, even if you do fail. We can go
to a stylish boarding-house. It won't be so bad as I thought."
"But I shan't be able to give you two thousand dollars a year for dress,
as I have been accustomed to do."
"Perhaps you won't fail."
"Perhaps not. I hope not."
"Where is this boy?"
"He is at a boarding-school on the Hudson. I expect him here this
morning."
Scarcely had he said this when a servant opened the door and said, "Mr.
Morton, there is a boy just come who says he is Mr. Raymond's son."
"Bring him in," said Paul Morton.
A moment later, and a boy of fourteen entered the room, and looked
inquiringly at the two who were sitting at the table.
"Are you Robert Raymond?" inquired Mr. Morton.
"Yes, sir," said the boy, in manly tones. "How is my father?"
"Your father, my poor boy," said Paul Morton, in pretended sadness, "is,
I regret to say, in a very precarious condition."
"Don't you think he will live?" asked Robert, anxiously.
"I fear not long. I am glad you have come. I will go up with you at once
to your father's chamber. I hope you will look upon me as your sincere
friend, for your father's sake. Maria, my dear, this is young Robert
Raymond. Robert, this is Mrs. Morton."
Mrs. Morton gave her hand graciously to the boy. Looking upon him as her
probable savior from utter ruin, she was disposed to regard him with
favor.
Mr. Morton rose from the table, and motioning Robert to follow him, led
the way to the sick man's chamber.