Mr. W----, when he came to the bindery next morning, knew all about
the wonderful discovery, the romance in real life, in which Hattie
Butler had borne such a prominent part. For the night before he had
gone to his club to try to wear off the melancholy, which he did not
want noticed by his loving and keen-eyed sisters at home. And there he
had met Frank Legare, who took him aside and told him all about it,
giving Hattie all the praise of not only discovering but restoring the
long-lost one to his aunt’s loving arms.
“She is a glorious girl!” said Frank. “That Miss Hattie Butler, I mean.”
“She is, indeed,” said Mr. W----.
“As good as she is beautiful,” continued Frank.
“You are right,” said Mr. W----, smiling at Frank’s enthusiasm.
“And do you know, Mr. W----,” continued Frank, “that I love that girl
with all my heart and soul, and I mean to marry her?”
“Whether she is willing or not?” asked Mr. W----, still smiling, for
he knew only too well what little chance there was for the young
enthusiast.
“Why, you don’t think she would refuse me--the heir to millions. And I
fancy I’m not bad-looking either.”
“You had better ask her, not me. She is the party most interested,”
said Mr. W----, quietly.
“Well, that’s so. But, some way, though she is only a poor girl,
she has such a queenly way about her that I’m almost afraid of her.
I can’t talk to her, familiar and free, as I can to most girls of my
acquaintance. But I know what I’ll do. Lizzie and her are just like two
sisters. I’ll get Lizzie to court her for me.”
W---- laughed heartily at this idea. He had heard of kings courting and
marrying by proxy in Europe, but the idea of a young American sovereign
following the example struck him as being very funny.
And it was.
Frank, rather annoyed at being laughed at, dropped the subject, and
turned to horses, where he was quite at home, keeping a team himself
that could “spin” alongside of Vanderbilt any day. I hope I’ve got that
term right; I heard some young men using it, I think.
And so, as I said before, Mr. W---- knew all about the happy event when
he saw Hattie come into the bindery next morning.
Yet he was astonished to see her looking unusually pale and sad, as if
she had passed an unhappy, sleepless night. Could it be that he was the
cause of it? It made him wretched to think that she might be worrying
because she thought her refusal had made him unhappy. But he determined
to be as cheerful as he could, if such was the case. For he knew that
she respected him truly, even if she could not love him, and he would
not have lost that respect for the world.
So he made his usual tour through the shop, trying to be as cheerful
and kind to all his employees as ever, and finally he came to the table
where Hattie bent assiduously over her task.
“I was told last night, Miss Hattie, by young Legare, that you had
discovered a cousin for him. He was full of praises of you.”
“Yet it was not my act; I was but an instrument in the hands of
Providence to bring a long-abused little girl to a loving mother. I
feel thankful for it, for I have pitied the poor child so long, and
until lately have hardly had a chance to befriend her as I wished
to do. But now she is safe. It will be heaven on earth to her, this
change.”
“I should think so. By the way, would you not like to visit her this
morning?”
“No, sir, not till afternoon. Then, if you will spare me a little
while, I would like to keep my promise, and go to see both mother and
child.”
“Take the time, Miss Hattie, and any time you desire, with pleasure. I
have instructed the foreman in consequence of the nature of your new
work, you are to be entirely unrestricted, and no account of time kept
with you, though your salary goes on.”
“Oh, Mr. W----, you are too kind!”
“No, Miss Hattie, and do not consider me so. The new duties you perform
are more valuable to us than you conceive. So consider that it is the
firm, not yourself, under obligation.”
Hattie understood and felt the delicacy of his thoughts and words, and
appreciated the true manliness of his heart; but she could only thank
him--all other reward must come from his own consciousness of being
kind to her.
Some way, during the morning, he had dropped out his idea of going
to California to the foreman, and Mr. Jones, who had of late taken
to speaking to Hattie much more often than he had formerly, spoke of
it when he came to take some work to the sewing bench, which she had
collated.
“To California! Is it not a sudden resolution?” she asked, in wonder.
“Well, may be ’tis on his part. His father did talk of sending me
there, for he has long wanted to set up a branch bindery to this on
the Pacific coast, but I kind o’ hung back. I love my wife and baby,
you see, and I couldn’t have afforded to take ’em with me; and as for
leavin’ ’em, I’d rather go down to the paste-bench and work for half
wages here.”
Mr. Jones was truly a family man, and it is a pity there are not more
family men like him.
“When will Mr. W---- go?” asked Hattie.
“Very soon--as soon as he can get off, he told me this morning, but I
don’t know as I ought to have spoken of it, for he never cares to have
his plans known. But I know when I tell you anything it will not get
blabbed around.”
“No, I shall not speak of it to others,” said Hattie.
And now, when the foreman went away, she felt more than ever wretched.
Was he going to leave his pleasant home, his dear parents and sisters,
on her account?--because she had thrown a shadow on his life?
She could not bear the thought; she was determined to speak to him. So,
taking some work in her hand, as if she wished to consult him, she went
directly to the office.
“Forgive me, Mr. W----,” she said, “if I intrude. But I just learned
that you had spoken of going to California.”
“Such is my intention, Miss Hattie.”
“Oh, Mr. W----, am I the cause of this sudden desire to leave your
happy home here--your pleasant business? If it is, let me go away. I
will never appear in your presence again. Oh, I am so unhappy!”
And tears fell fast from her dark eyes.
“Dear Miss Hattie, please be calm, and do not blame yourself, for it is
no fault of yours. But, believe me, for the present it will be better
for both of us that I go. It will help you to forget my folly, help me
to bear my bitter disappointment. I would not have you leave here on
any account. So long as you are here I can hear from you, know you are
well, and--that will be much happiness to me.”
“Mr. W----, you are too noble to suffer. Would to Heaven I could save
you from it. If you do go to California I will intrust a mission to you
which I would not confide to any other man on earth, confident that you
will act for me as if you were a dear brother, a true friend, as I feel
and know you to be. And in that mission you will discover what I have
held as a secret, sacredly, for over three years, and it will help you
to blame me less for the disappointment under which you suffer.”
“Ah, Miss Hattie, I do not, have not, blamed you. I know your reasons
are good. Your noble heart could not bid you act in any way but
rightly. I will undertake any service that you intrust to me, fulfill
your wishes sacredly to the utmost of my power.”
“Thank you, Mr. W----. A letter which I wrote last night, with intent
to mail, will be confided to your care. And also written directions
where to find the person to whom it is addressed, and other matters
which I shall ask of you.”
“All of which shall be attended to with faithful diligence, Miss
Hattie. And now, please, wash your eyes in the water-basin there before
going out. I would not have any one notice you had been weeping.”
“You are so good, Mr. W----!”
Hattie’s heart was too full to say more. She washed her face in the
office basin, and then went out to her table with a lighter heart,
bending to her work cheerfully, to do all she could before the carriage
came from Mr. Legare’s to take her to see Jessie Albemarle and her
mother.