FAREWELL TO "REDSTONE"
All through the summer of 1893 we had been discussing the advisability
of leaving "Redstone" and taking up a permanent residence in New
York.
Our children were now at a period when good schools were imperative
for their proper education, and such did not exist at Knollwood.
Our social life was almost entirely with our New York friends, and
though two families of the "Immortal Ten" had become residents of
Knollwood they were to leave at the end of the term for which they
had rented. The Banfords occupied "Sunnyside," while George Lawton,
who had removed to Orange, rented his house to the Todds.
While we were fond of all the New York friends and especially so
of Will Curtice and his wife, for George and Charlotte Todd we had
a tender spot in our hearts that none of the others quite reached.
George, in a way, reminded me of my former friend, Frank Slater;
not that he resembled him in feature, but in his possession of a
charm of manner that won everybody with whom he came in contact.
Versatile, witty, and brilliant in his entertaining power, he was
easily the most popular man in our circle. Entering the employment
of New York's greatest life insurance company as an office boy,
he is today one of its vice-presidents, and this proud position is
the well-deserved reward of wonderful ability. His wife is one of
those sweet, pretty, clever women that everybody loves.
Ned Banford had met with disaster. He was one of many who were
unable to weather the panic. At the time of his failure he was
indebted to me five thousand dollars. A day or two before the event
he brought me a package of unset pearls which he valued at eight
thousand dollars and requested me to hold them as security.
Mr. Viedler, who also was a creditor, was abroad. As soon as
he learned of the failure he returned to New York and advanced a
considerable sum of money to enable Ned to make a settlement with
his merchandise creditors. This took considerable time, and meanwhile
I required in my own business the use of all my resources. I told
Ned if he could not arrange to repay me I would be forced to sell
the pearls, and suggested taking them to Tiffany, where I was
well known, and asking them to make an offer. To this he strongly
objected, and much to my surprise, in view of all that I had done
for him, exhibited a good deal of ill-feeling toward me for taking
such a position. I remained firm, however, and fixed a date beyond
which I would not wait. The day before the specified time Ned
brought to my office Mr. Viedler's cheque to my order for five
thousand dollars.
[Illustration: EIGHTY-SIXTH STREET AND WEST END AVENUE]
Throwing the cheque on my desk he said, with a smile, "Here's your
money, old man; now I want you to do something for me. Just give me
your note for five thousand dollars payable to Viedler." I said,
"Why should I do that, Ned? I am not borrowing this money of Viedler.
This is not to benefit me--it is to help you and save those pearls."
"Yes, I know," he replied, "but Viedler is a queer sort of chap.
He has been putting up a lot of money for me. He wants this done
this way and I want to humor him. It will help me and won't hurt
you. Payment will never be demanded of you." I asked him if Mr.
Viedler was fully informed on the matter and knew what my position
was. He replied, "Yes, I have told him all about it." I then gave
him the note. The sequel to this incident will come in a later
chapter.
As a final result of our summer's deliberation we leased a house at
Eighty-sixth Street and West End Avenue and by the first of October
had become settled in our new home; the horses we took with us but
the ponies were sold. The children had outgrown them. "Redstone"
we closed for the winter. In the spring I offered it for rent and
quickly found a good tenant in the agent of the Rhinelander estate.
Our four daughters were entered at the school of the Misses Ely on
Riverside Drive and made rapid and satisfactory progress in their
studies.
As soon as we had become thoroughly accustomed to life in New York
I think every member of the family was glad of the change. The
children made many pleasant friends, enjoyed their school life,
their Saturday matinees and drives in the park, and not one of them
would have liked to return to Knollwood.
As for my wife and myself, our enjoyment of the life was beyond
question. We had always been fond of the theatre and now we saw
everything worth seeing. We had a delightful circle of friends whom
we were meeting continually. Our home was handsome and spacious.
Our appointments fitted it beautifully and every room in the house,
from the billiard-room in the basement, up through the four stories
was very attractive.
Every pleasant morning I drove the T-cart or tandem through the park
to the Fifty-eighth Street Elevated station, and in the afternoon,
with the brougham, after calls or shopping, my wife would meet me.
When there was sufficient snow to permit it we would have out the
large sleigh, and with four-in-hand or three abreast derive keen
pleasure from our drive.
For clubs I had little use, though a member of several. For many years
I went to the Down-Town Association for luncheon and occasionally
after the theatre took my wife to the ladies' dining-room in the
Colonial Club for a supper; as a rule, however, we went for these
suppers to the Waldorf, where we usually met friends.
With our life in New York commenced a closer intimacy with the
Caines, though not of our seeking. They lived nearer to us than
any of our friends and their informal calls became very frequent.
In a way we liked them. They were chatty, sociable people, though
a little too much inclined to gossip. They were not well mated.
Both had tempers and the wife had some money, the husband, little
or none; consequently there was friction and they lacked the good
taste to confine their differences to the privacy of their own
apartments. This was a great drawback to our enjoyment of their
society.