“A dispatch for me?” cried Mr. W----.
“Yes, sir. Here it is, prepaid, O. K., all hunky, and so forth,” cried
the lad, and as Mr. W---- took the dispatch, away he went, on the run,
to deliver more.
Mr. W----, to the disappointment of Mr. Jones and the others, did not
open and read his dispatch then and there, but, with a pale face, and
quick, nervous step, went with it, unopened in his hand, to his office,
and shut himself in. And there he read these strange and startling
words:
“NO. -- BEACON ST., BOSTON.
“KINDEST OF FRIENDS:--Both my parents are dead. My mother,
reconciled, died, blessing me. There is a very large estate to
receive, and I alone can arrange for its care in my absence, for
I shall return to my position, and occupy it until you return,
successful or not, from that mission to California. Pardon the
suggestion that you go on immediately. You will find me at the
bindery when you come back. Keep the confidence I bestowed upon you,
especially as to what I send in this dispatch, even from the friends
on Fifth avenue. Only say to all I am well, and will soon return.
“Faithfully yours,
“G. E. L.”
“[Answer.]”
“Wonderful! What a comprehensive dispatch!” murmured Mr. W----, as he
folded it and placed it inside his pocket-book.
And, writing this answer, he sealed and sent it at once to the
telegraph office:
“G. E. L., NO. -- BEACON ST., BOSTON:
“Your dispatch received. Every wish expressed shall be faithfully
carried out. I will leave to-morrow for California, and return as
soon as my mission is fulfilled.
“EDWARD W----.”
And when the dispatch was gone, Mr. W---- went out to his foreman, and
said:
“Mr. Jones, I have heard from Miss Butler. She is well. Her mother
is dead. She will remain in Boston a few days, and then return to
her duties here. You are at liberty to say this to our people here.
To-morrow I shall leave for California, to establish a branch bindery
there. You will remain in charge here. Father will come down to see
you once in a while, perhaps; but he will not interfere with the work.
When Miss Butler returns give her all the time she wishes out of the
bindery, and make her duties easy and pleasant as you can. She is a
noble girl.”
“That she is, Mr. W----. I’m sorry you are going, but I will do my very
best while you are gone, and try to keep everything moving brisk and
right.”
“I know you will, Mr. Jones. I have every confidence in you. I also
increase your wages on the pay-roll ten dollars a week in consequence
of your increased responsibilities. Miss Butler had better come into
the office with her work now, and she will help you with the pay-rolls.
I shall leave checks to an amount which will keep you square with the
hands, no matter what comes in. If more stock is wanted father will see
to it.”
“Oh, Mr. W----, you are too good. Ten dollars a week more will make the
little woman at home feel as rich as a Vanderbilt.”
“So much the better, Mr. Jones. Your baby is growing, and so will your
expenses increase. Go on with everything. I have a great deal to do to
get ready--have to go home, and up town to see Mr. Legare, and shall be
out most of the day.”
“I’ll do my best, sir, and I think I’ll please you,” said the happy
foreman, as he turned and left the office.
Within ten minutes the news had spread all over the shop. There was a
little buzz of excitement, but the discipline of the establishment was
perfect, and the work went on as steadily and smoothly as ever.
Mr. W---- spent an hour or more over his books and pay-rolls, then he
wrote and sealed a long letter, which was to be given to Miss Butler
when she returned, and a separate open note, asking her to take a
table in the office when she came back, and to help Mr. Jones with his
accounts and pay-rolls.
This done, Mr. Jones was again called, the letters handed to him,
all explanations made, and then Mr. W---- left for his home to make
preparations there, and have a small trunk packed with necessary
clothing, and to go up to Fifth avenue to carry the news, which he was
permitted to reveal, from Miss Butler, as she was still to be known
until she chose to throw off her incognito, and to tell them of his
sudden intention to leave for California, to there extend his business.
His own family, having often discussed this trip to California, were
not at all surprised at his decision to start at once, for he was one
of those prompt, decisive men in business who take things sharply and
move without making any noise about it.
His father gave him a little advice, and an unlimited letter of credit.
His sisters wept a little, but packed his trunk nicely, for though
they often had little jars with him, he was a good brother, and very
dear to them.
When he had seen to all these things, and knew that he was ready to
start on the earliest train next day, he took the carriage and rode up
to the mansion of Mr. Legare.
All were at home, and his welcome, as usual, was cordial.
“Any further news from my dear, dear friend?” was the first question
that left the lips of Lizzie.
“Of course he has. She’d let him know how she was, before any of us!”
said Frank, almost too jealous to live.
“As her oldest acquaintance in the city, perhaps she thinks me the one
that she ought to communicate with, especially as her business is with
our firm,” said Mr. W----, gravely. “But in a dispatch that I received
this morning, announcing the death of her mother, and asking a few days
longer leave of absence, in consequence, she begged me especially to
come up here, tell her friends she was well, and would soon return to
New York, and would make her first and only call away from business on
them.”
“Oh, thank you--thank you, Mr. W----. All read the paper this morning.
Frank says he don’t know hardly how to begin, but he means to write a
romance about it. He is going to call it ‘The Angel of the Storm; or,
The Pilot’s Timely Warning.’”
“That will sound very grand,” said Mr. W----, with a smile. “It seems
to me I saw a dime novel, published by one of our city small fry,
called ‘The Angel of the Washtub--a Romance of Soap-Suds and Starch.’
It must have sold hugely.”
“There you are laughing at me again!” said Frank.
“No, brother, he is only encouraging you in your first literary effort.
Every one must have a start, you know, even if it is down hill.”
Mrs. Emory came into the room now with Jessie, and the latter ran and
shook hands with the friend of her dear Hattie.
Mr. W---- told Mrs. Emory that he had heard from Hattie. She was
well, and would soon return, and then, the elder Legare coming in, he
broached the subject of his going to California.
Frank’s eyes flashed joyfully when he heard of it, for he was, in
truth, fearfully jealous of Mr. W----, and he thought if the latter
was absent he might stand some chance to win the affections of Hattie,
whom he thought he loved more than ever since her heroism had made her
famous.
Lizzie seemed sorry, and asked if his intention had not been formed
suddenly. But he told her it had not. His father had long desired to
have him go, and he had come to the conclusion that the sooner he went
the better.
He spent but an hour there with those pleasant friends, and then, on
the plea of preparing for his departure, bade them farewell.