Mr. Legare, after leaving the bindery, drove, or was taken in his
carriage, to a prominent bank, in which he was heavily interested,
both as a stockholder and depositor, transacted some business there,
then took a turn down Wall street to look into some stocks there, and
returned home just in time for lunch.
He was met at the table by his two children--Frank, a son of
five-and-twenty years, and Lizzie, a daughter just five years younger.
His wife, their mother, had passed away two years before, leaving sweet
memories only to cheer their saddened hearts, for as wife and mother
she had been a treasure on earth.
“Well, children, how have you spent your morning?” asked the fond and
ever indulgent father.
“I have been over in Forty-Fifth street, father, calling on your old
friend, Mr. ----,” said Frank. “I love to visit the dear old fellow,
and to hear him talk of his travels in Europe. He is droll, yet there
is a vein of true philosophy in all he says. And his sketches of
scenes he visited are so full of life and interest. An invalid, yet so
cheerful--it would cure a misanthrope to visit him once in a while.”
“He is a good man, Frank, and I am glad you like to visit him. He has
seen much of the world, and you can learn a great deal in conversing
with him. And now, daughter, dear, how have you spent your afternoon?”
“I started out to go a-shopping, papa. You know you handed me a roll
of money last night for that purpose. I went on foot, for I like
exercise on a sunny morning like this. Only a little way from here, in
front of the drug store on the next avenue, I saw a young girl, a mere
child of ten or eleven years, crying bitterly. I asked her what was
the matter, and learned, through her many sobs, that she had come with
only seven cents, the last money she or her mother had in the world,
to get medicine for that mother, who was sick. The medicine named in
the prescription cost twenty cents, and the druggist would not let
her have it without the money. I took the poor thing by the hand and
went in and got the medicine for her, and in the meantime found out
where she lived, in an alley only four blocks, dear father, from this
rich home, in the basement of one of the old tumble-down houses, which
are a disgrace to the city. I don’t know but I did wrong, papa, but I
couldn’t help it. I went home with that little girl and saw her poor
mother, sick, with four children, actually starving, in an unfurnished
cellar--no food, no fire--nothing but want and wretchedness to meet my
view. Father, there is a fire there now, and plenty to eat. The sick
woman is on a good bed, our doctor has taken her case in hand, and the
children, in decent clothes, will go to school next week. But I have
not been shopping. I found better use for my money.”
“God bless my girl--my noble girl,” said Mr. Legare, and tears came in
his eyes as he spoke. “Frank, my boy, Lizzie has outstripped us both
in good works, though we both may have done some good; you in visiting
and cheering up my invalid friend, and I--well, I, too, have had an
adventure, and perhaps have been the indirect cause of bettering the
condition of a poor, hard-working girl--the loveliest creature, by
the way, that I ever saw, at home or abroad. And talented, too, the
mistress of five languages; and, Lizzie, not so old, I should judge, as
you, by a year or two.”
“Where did you meet this prodigy of beauty and learning, father?” asked
the son.
“At W----’s book-bindery, where I took some valuable old reviews for
binding. She has worked there over two years, earning and supporting
herself on four dollars a week. And until some one was needed to
collate and arrange my old German and French reviews, her knowledge
of languages had remained undiscovered. She bears an excellent
character--is modest, pure, and unassuming. I was glad to hear Mr.
W---- order his foreman to assign her to new and more pleasant duties,
at ten dollars a week.”
“So, dear papa, you, too, brought joy to a toil-worn heart.”
“I hope so, child, I hope so. She told me she owed her education to
a gifted mother. I saw her lips tremble and her eyes moisten when
she spoke, and, thinking of our own loss, my children, I forbore
to question her then. But I shall, by and by, for I feel strangely
interested in her. So very, very beautiful; so talented, and yet in
such humble circumstances. In looks, in manners, in conversation a lady
who would grace any society, yet, after all, only a poor book-bindery
girl.”
Lunch, which had been going on all this time, was over, and Mr. Legare,
mentioning that he had some letters to write, went to his library,
while the brother and sister went off, arm in arm, to a favorite alcove
in the adjoining drawing-room.
“Frank, what do you think of this new discovery which our dear
father has been telling us of? I never knew him to speak with such
enthusiastic admiration of any one before.”
“Neither did I, Lizzie,” said Frank, gravely. “Seriously, sister, I
must go and see this peerless girl--see her, too, before father goes
there again, if I can. I do not want a step-mother younger than you
are, dear.”
“Oh, Frank! Papa would never think of that!”
“I don’t know, Lizzie. He is young for his years. He has led a careful,
temperate life, and is not beyond his prime either mentally or
physically. Stranger things have happened. I repeat, I must go and see
this girl for myself. W---- is a warm friend of mine, and will help me
if there’s any danger.”
“I don’t know but you are right, Frank. Go, if you think best.”