Mr. Balch was a bachelor of forty-five, with a small fortune, and a
large bump of credulity. Like all ancient and modern bachelors, he liked
"to be made of," and Mrs. Markham's hawk eye discovered this little
weakness, and turned it to her own advantage. A moneyed man's vote on a
committee is of some importance, and Markham had an eye to the
perpetuity of her salary; further than that, we have no right to probe
the secrets of her unappropriated heart.
On the visit in question, she received Mr. Balch very graciously,
inquired with great solicitude concerning his rheumatism, which she
averred was quite prevalent that year among _young_ people; gave him the
most eligible seat on the sofa, and apologized for having kept him
waiting so long.
"Not a word, my dear lady, not a word," said the pleased Balch. "We all
know how onerous are your duties, and how indefatigably conscientious
you are in the performance of them. It was spoken of at the last meeting
of the Board; I wish you to know that your services are fully
appreciated by us."
"Oh! thank you--thank you, Mr. Balch. You are too kind. None of us can
say that we are insensible to appreciation, or independent of our
fellow-creatures. It is particularly grateful to me in my lonely
condition" (and here Markham heaved a sigh as long as her corsets would
allow her,) "for these dear little orphans are all I have to love, and I
think I may say I have won their little hearts."
"We know it, we all know it, my dear lady; but you must not allow your
duties to press _too_ heavily. I thought you looked over-weary this
evening."
"Do I?" asked Markham, snapping her eyes to make them look brighter.
"Ah, well--it is very likely--the poor little darling who came here
to-day, was taken in a fit. I find she is subject to them, and I had
just brought her safely out of it, when I came to you. One can't help
feeling at such a time, you know, unless indeed, one is a stock, or a
stone, and my sensibilities are almost too acute for my situation."
"Very true, my dear lady; but for _our_ sakes, for _my_ sake," and Mr.
Balch lowered his tone, "do try to control them, though to me, a female
without sensibility is a--a--monster, Mrs. Markham."
"I can't conceive of it," said that lady, in extreme disgust.
"No, of course you can not; how should you?" asked Balch. "I wish that
I--we--I--dared say how much we think of you."
"Oh!" said Markham, with a little deprecatory waive of her hand, "I
only do my duty, Mr. Balch."
"Yes, you do--a great deal more--much more than any one with less heart
would think of doing; you are too modest, Mrs. Markham; you underrate
yourself, Mrs. Markham; I shall move at the next meeting of the Board to
have your salary raised," said Balch, with enthusiasm.
"Oh, I beg--I beg"--said Markham, covering her face with her
hands--"pray don't, Mr. Balch--I am not at all mercenary."
"My _dear_ lady," seizing her hands--"as if we--I--we--could think
so--and of _you_? I shall certainly propose it at our next meeting, and
if the Board haven't the means to do it, I know who has;" and Balch
squeezed Markham's hand.