"I'VE HAD SUCH LUCK!"
One day Mr. Fern came home in a state of great excitement. He had not
acted naturally for a long time and Daisy, who met him at the door,
wondered what could be the cause of his strange manner. He caught his
daughter in his arms and kissed her like a lover. Tears came to his
eyes, but they were tears of joy. He laughed hysterically as he wiped
them away and told her not to mind him, for he was the happiest man in
New York.
"I've had such luck!" he exclaimed, when she stared at him. "Oh, Daisy,
I've had such grand luck!"
She led him to a seat on a sofa and waited for him to tell her more.
"You can't imagine the relief I feel," he continued, when he had caught
sufficient breath. "I've had an awful time in business for years, but
to-day everything is all cleared up. The house over our heads was
mortgaged; the notes I owed Boggs were almost due; I had given out
paper that I could see no way of meeting. And now it is all provided
for, I am out of financial danger, and I have enough to quit business
and live in ease and comfort with my family the rest of my days!"
Daisy could only look her surprise. She could not understand such a
transformation. But she loved her father dearly, and seeing that he was
happy made her happy, too; though she had had her own sorrows of late.
"Tell me about it, father," she said, putting an arm around his neck.
"You couldn't understand, no matter how much I tried to make it clear,"
he answered, excitedly. "There was a combination that meant ruin or
success, depending on the cast of a die, as one might say. Wool has been
in a bad way. Congress had the tariff bill before it. If higher
protection was put on, the stocks in the American market would rise. If
the tariff rate was lowered they would fall. I took the right side. I
bought an immense quantity of options. The bill passed to-day and the
President signed it. Wool went up, and I am richer by two hundred and
fifty thousand dollars than I was yesterday!"
For answer the girl kissed him affectionately, and for a few moments
neither of them spoke.
"I don't wonder you say I can't understand business," said Daisy,
presently. "It would puzzle most feminine brains, I think, to know how a
man could purchase quantities of wool when he had nothing to buy with."
The father drew himself suddenly away from her, and gazed in a sort of
alarm into her wide-opened eyes.
"That is a secret," he said, hoarsely. "It is one of the things business
men do not talk about. When stocks are rising it is easy to buy a great
deal, if one only has something to give him a start."
"And you _had_ something?" asked Daisy, trying to utter the words that
she thought would please him best.
"Yes, yes!" he answered, hurriedly. "I--had--something! And to-morrow I
shall free myself of Boggs, and of--of all my troubles. I shall pay the
mortgage on the house, and we can have anything we want. Ah! What a
relief it is! What a relief!"
He panted like a man who had run a race with wolves and had just time to
close the door before they caught him.
"May I tell Millie?" asked the girl. "She has worried about the house,
fearing it would be sold."
He shook his head as if the subject was disagreeable.
"She will find it out," he said. "There is no need of haste. And at any
rate I don't want you to give her any particulars. I don't want her to
know how successful I have been. You can say that I have made
money--enough to free the home. Don't tell any more than that to any
one. It--it is not a public matter. I was so full of happiness that I
had to tell you, but no one else is to know."
Daisy promised, though she asked almost immediately if the prohibition
extended to Mr. Weil. He was such a friend of the family, she said, he
would be very much gratified.
She had reached thus far in her innocent suggestion, when she happened
to glance at her father's face. He was deathly pale. His body was limp
and his chin sunken to his breast.
"Father!" she exclaimed. And then, seized with a nameless fear, was
about to summon other help, when he opened his eyes slowly and touched
her hand with his.
"You are ill! Shall I call the servants?" she asked, anxiously.
He intimated that she should not, and presently rallied enough to say he
was better, and required nothing.
"What were we speaking of?" he asked, in a strained voice.
"We were talking of your grand fortune, and I asked if I might not tell
Mr.--"
He stopped her with a movement, and another spasm crossed his face.
"You will make no exception," he whispered. "None whatever. My affairs
will interest no one else. If you are interrogated, you must know
nothing. Nothing," he added, impressively, "nothing whatever!"
Mr. Fern's recovery was almost as quick as his attack, although he did
not resume the gaiety of manner with which he had opened the subject.
After dinner he talked with Daisy, declaring over and over that she had
been on short allowance long enough, and asserting that she must be
positively in a state of want. She answered laughingly that she needed
very little, and then suddenly bethought herself of something and grew
sober.
"Do you feel rich enough to let me exercise a little generosity for
others?" she inquired.
He replied with alacrity that she could do exactly as she pleased with
whatever sum he gave her, and that the amount should be for her to name.
"You don't know how big it will be," she replied, timidly.
"I'll risk that. Out with it," he said, smiling.
"Supposing," she said, slowly, "that I should ask for a thousand
dollars?"
"You would get it," he laughed. "In fact I was going to propose that you
accept several thousand, and have it put in the bank in your name, so
you would be quite an independent young woman. You must have your own
checkbook and get used to keeping accounts. I will bring you a
certificate of deposit for three thousand dollars, and each six months
afterwards I will put a thousand more to your credit, out of which you
can take your pin money."
It seemed too good to be true, and the girl's face brightened until it
shone with a light that the father thought the most beautiful on earth.
Now she could return the thousand dollars she had borrowed of Mr.
Roseleaf, a sum that had given her much uneasiness since she broke off
her intimate relations with the young novelist. More than this, she
would have sufficient on hand to send the future amounts that Hannibal
would need to keep him abroad. It was such a strange and delightful
thing to see smiles on her father's face that she did not want anything
to disturb them. She was quite as happy as Mr. Fern, now that this cloud
had been lifted from her mind.
The next day was a bright one for the wool merchant. By noon he had sent
for Walker Boggs and astonished that gentleman by handing him a check in
full for the entire amount of his indebtedness. In answer to a question
he merely said he had been on the right side of the market. Mr. Fern
also settled with his mortgage creditor, and went home at night happy
that his head would again lie under a roof actually as well as in name
his own. Notes which he had given came back to him soon after, and he
burned them with a glee that was almost saturnine. Burned them, after
looking at their faces and backs, after scanning the endorsements;
burned them with his office door locked, using the flame of a gas-jet
for the purpose.
The ashes lay on the floor, when a knock was heard and Archie Weil's
voice answered to the resultant question. Mr. Fern lost color at the
familiar sound, but he mustered courage.
"I've come to congratulate you," said Archie, warmly. "They say you have
made a mint of money out of the rise in wool."
"Who says so?" asked Mr. Fern, warily.
"Everybody. Don't tell me it's not true."
"I've done pretty well," was the evasive reply. "And I'm going out of
business, too. It seems a good time to quit."
Mr. Weil made a suitable answer to this statement and the two men talked
together for some time. After awhile the conversation took a wider turn.
"Where's your young friend, Roseleaf?" asked Mr. Fern, to whom the
matter did not seem to have occurred before. "I don't believe I have
seen him at Midlands for a month."
"No, he doesn't come," replied Archie, growing darker. "If you wish a
particular reason, you will have to ask it of your daughter."
Mr. Fern looked as if he did not understand.
"He became very fond of her," explained Archie, "and for some reason, he
does not know what, she has evinced a sudden dislike to him."
Mr. Fern looked still more astonished.
"Millie is a strange girl," he ventured to remark. "But I supposed--I
was almost sure, her affections were engaged elsewhere; and, really, I
thought he knew it."
Mr. Weil stared now, for it was evident his companion was far from the
right road. He was also interested to hear that Miss Fern had anything
like a love affair in mind, for he had supposed such a thing quite
impossible.
"I was not speaking of Miss Millicent, but of Miss Daisy," he said.
The wool merchant rose from his chair in the extremity of his
astonishment.
"You meant that--that Mr. Roseleaf--was in love with Daisy!" he said.
"And that she seemed to reciprocate his attachment?"
"I did. And also that a few weeks ago she asked him to cease his
visits, giving no explanation of the cause of her altered demeanor. He
is a most excellent young gentleman," continued Weil, "and one for whom
I entertain a sincere affection. Her conduct is a great blow to him,
especially as he does not know what he has done to deserve it. I trust
the estrangement will not be permanent, as they are eminently suited to
each other."
The face of Mr. Fern was a study as he heard this explanation.
"If he was an honorable man, why did he not come to _me_?" he asked,
pointedly.
"He was constantly seeking Miss Daisy's permission to do so," replied
Archie. "Which she never seemed quite willing to give him."
"She is too young to think of marriage," mused Mr. Fern, after a long
pause.
"He is willing to wait; but her present attitude, giving him no hope
whatever, has thrown him into the deepest dejection."
From this Mr. Weil proceeded to tell Mr. Fern all he knew about
Roseleaf. He said the young man was at present engaged on literary work
that promised to yield him good returns. He had a small fortune of his
own beside. Everything that could be thought of in his favor was dilated
upon to the fullest extent.
"I don't believe I can spare my 'baby,'" said Mr. Fern, kindly, "for any
man. You plead with much force, Mr. Weil, for your friend. How is it
that _you_ have never married. Are you blind to the charms of the sex?"
For an instant Archie was at loss how to reply.
"On the contrary," he said, at last, "I appreciate them fully. I have
had my heart's affair, too; but," he paused a long time, "she loved
another, and there was but one woman for me. Perhaps this leads me to
sympathize all the more with my unfortunate young friend."
Mr. Fern said he would have a talk with Daisy, and learn what he could
without bringing in the name of his informant.
"We fathers are always the last to see these things," he added. "It
would be terrible to give her up, but I want her to be happy."