WHEN Mr. and Mrs. Tompkins met, at dinnertime, neither of them
appeared in the most happy frame of mind. The lady looked especially
disagreeable. The meal passed in silence, and was eaten with little
appetite.
As soon as her husband had retired from the house, which he did very
soon after he had left the table, Mrs. Tompkins's manner changed.
"Humph!" said she, tossing her head, "he needn't begin the sulky
game with me. Two can play at that, as he ought to know very well.
I've set my heart on having a handsomer establishment than the
purse-proud Mrs. Gileston, and, what is more, I will be gratified.
Mr. Tompkins is worth two dollars to her husband's one, and yet she
sweeps about the street with the air of a duchess, and never so much
as looks me in the face, though I have been twice introduced to her.
But, I'll be even with my lady! I've set my heart on this, and will
move heaven and earth to accomplish it."
This half-spoken soliloquy will afford the reader some clue to the
character of Mrs. Tompkins. Her husband, to whom she had been
married about ten years, had gradually risen from the position of a
clerk to that of a merchant, in a small way, when the death of a
distant relative put him in possession of about, thirty thousand
dollars. Up to that time, his wife, who was a poor girl when he
married her, had been content to live in a style suited to their
means. But the moment a fortune so large in her eyes, fell to their
share, her ideas expanded, and she suddenly became aware of the fact
that she was a woman of no mean importance.
To Mr. Tompkins, this money came just in time to save him from
failure. He had started, as too many do, without capital, and had
unwisely attempted to do more business than means so limited would
bear. He, consequently, knew the value of money far better than his
wife, and was disposed to invest what he did not require in his
business, in a safe way. She, on the contrary, proposed that they
should, at once, adopt a style of living in consonance with their
bettered fortunes.
"We live very comfortably, as we now are," he said, in answer to a
repetition of her plea for a handsome house, on the evening
following the day of his interview with Wolford. "We live as well as
our means have, until within a few years, enabled us to live."
Mrs. Tompkins rejoined--
"With improved fortunes, we should adopt a different style."
"I don't think we should be in any particular hurry about it," said
the husband. "Let the change, if any be made, come gradually."
"All eyes are upon us," was Mrs. Tompkins's answer to this. "And
everybody expects us to take a different and higher place in
society."
"It is my opinion," said the husband, "that we are free to live in
any style that may suit us."
"It is all very well to say that, Mr. Tompkins, but it will not do.
We must, while in the world, do as the world does. People in our
circumstances do not live in a rented house;--we should have a
dwelling of our own, and that a handsome one--handsomer than
Gileston's house, about which there, is so much talk."
"Gileston's house!" said Mr. Tompkins, in surprise. "Why that house
didn't cost a cent less than twenty-five thousand dollars."
"Well, suppose it did not. What then?"
"Do you imagine that we can build a house at an expense of
twenty-five thousand dollars?"
"Why not, Mr. Tompkins?"
"Where is the money to come from?"
"There it is again! But I can tell you."
"I wish to my heart you would, for it's more than I can."
"Take it out of bank, where it lies rusting."
"Humph!"
"What's the matter?"
"How much do you suppose I have in bank tonight?"
"Dear knows! Forty or fifty thousand dollars, I suppose."
"Just seventy-nine dollars and ten cents! And what is more, I have
two thousand dollars to pay to-morrow, five hundred on the day
after, and ten or twelve thousand more to make up within the next
two weeks. If You will tell me where all this money is to come from,
I will build you a dozen houses: as it is, you must build your own
castles--in the air."
A flood of tears answered this bitterly spoken reply. Her tears, the
lady had found, on more occasions than one, to have a powerful
effect upon her husband. It must be said for her, that she did not
believe a word of what Mr. Tompkins had alleged in regard to the
balance of his bank account. For a man who had been in a good
business for a number of years, and had received a legacy of thirty
thousand dollars, to be so near out of cash, was to her mind
preposterous. She knew he had invested nearly twenty thousand
dollars in property, but what of that? Her tears disturbed Mr.
Tompkins, as they always did.
"What I tell you is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the
truth," said he, in a calm, but serious voice, after, the sobs of
his wife had begun to die away. "And now, what would you have me
do?"
"You can do just as you please, Mr. Tompkins. It is nothing to me.
You know your own business best." This was said with an offended
air, in which was something of indifference.
"You are unreasonable, Ellen."
"Very likely I am; at least in your eyes. I believe you never had a
very exalted opinion of your wife's good sense: nor much regard for
her wishes!"
"I believe, Ellen," returned the husband, "that few men regard the
happiness of their wives more than I have regarded the happiness of
mine. Perhaps if I had been less considerate, it might have been
better for all."
"Considerate, indeed! Oh, yes! You're very considerate to buy old
warehouses to rent, in place of a decent dwelling for your family!
Very considerate that--wasn't it?"
At this point of the contest, Mr. Tompkins retired from the field,
his forces reduced and in disorder. He saw but one hope of peace,
and that was by an early surrender, and on the best terms that could
be made. The property that he had purchased yielded him about
fourteen hundred a year. To sell this, and build, with the proceeds,
a splendid mansion, from which no income could possibly arise,
seemed to him an act of egregious folly. But any thing for peace. To
sell it, and put the money in his business, was a much more
desirable act, instead of borrowing money, at an exorbitant
interest, in order to make his payments. He had more than once
thought of doing this. At the time the investment was made, his
business operations were light, and he did not need the use of over
ten thousand dollars of the timely legacy he had received. Since
then his business had increased, and with this increase came the
need of more ready money than he could command. He did not like the
idea of selling his real estate, because he was very confident, from
the many improvements going on in the quarter of the city where it
was situated, that it would double in value in the course of ten
years. He was so confident of this, that he preferred paying a high
rate of interest for money for temporary purposes, rather than sell
his property. So hard did he become pressed at last, that he
resorted to the expedient of raising ten thousand dollars on
mortgage, at ten per centum per annum. Wolford held this mortgage,
as the reader is aware.
It was with painful reluctance that Mr. Tompkins made up his mind to
part with his warehouse property, in order to gratify the love of
display which was the besetting sin of his better half. But, even
should he do that, he would have to let ten thousand dollars go to
clear off the mortgage; and if it brought him twenty-two or three
thousand, or even twenty-five thousand, he would not have enough to
build the elegant mansion his wife desired: and should he build one
in a style not consonant with her exalted ideas, his position,
instead of being better, would be much worse.
The next week, to poor Mr. Tompkins, he was called a rich man, was
one of sad perplexity and anxious deliberation upon what it was best
for him to do. He had great difficulty in raising sufficient money
to meet his payments, independent of the ten thousand dollars
demanded by Wolford. Where that sum was to come from he could not
tell. He had made several applications for a loan to take the place
of the one now upon his property, and had even caused advertisements
to be inserted in the newspapers, addressed to "capitalists," but
without effect.
During all this time, Mrs. Tompkins was as disagreeable as it was
possible for her to be. When her husband returned home, in the
evening, sick at heart with the toil and anxiety of the day, he was
met by no pleasant words or cheerful smiles. A sober face presided
at his table, where the words were few and coldly spoken.
The period for which Wolford's loan had been made was within two
days of its expiration, when, half beside himself with perplexity,
Mr. Tompkins advertised his property for sale. There were enough who
understood its real value precisely, and were ready to come forward
and offer to purchase. As soon as the miser and usurer saw the
course events were taking, he very kindly informed Mr. Tompkins that
he had just received, unexpectedly, a large sum of money, and should
not want the ten thousand dollars due him.
"You are too late," replied Mr. Tompkins, when he communicated this
intelligence.
"Why so?" asked Wolford.
"I have made up my mind to sell."
"I don't want my money."
"Oh, very well, I can keep it."
"On what security."
"My note of hand."
The miser shrugged his shoulders.
"Don't you like that security?"
"I have no objection to your warehouse property."
"But that I shall sell."
Wolford retired in a dissatisfied mood. He had overreached himself.
In the course of a week the sale was made, and for cash. The
property brought twenty-five thousand dollars. After the mortgage
was released, and his borrowed money account balanced, Mr. Tompkins
had just twelve thousand dollars to his credit in bank, with a
month's heavy payments before him.
On this basis, and with this position of affairs to sustain him, Mr.
Tompkins, feeling in a desperate mood, determined that he would
build himself an elegant residence. The plan was furnished by an
architect, and the work commenced forthwith. Mrs. Tompkins was all
her husband could wish, from the day she was apprized of his
decision in regard to a matter that had so long been near her heart.
He said nothing of the sacrifice he had made, nor intimated any
thing about what might be the ultimate consequence, although every
sober thought of the future awoke a fear. The house, when finished,
cost twenty-three thousand dollars; and when furnished twenty-eight
thousand. It need not be said that Mr. Tompkins was hard run for
money. On the day he moved into his splendid mansion, he borrowed
from Mr Wolford, on a mortgage of his new property, fifteen thousand
dollars, at twelve per cent. per annum. He had but one or two
alternatives--to borrow at this ruinous rate of interest, or fail.
The operation was for one year, without any privilege of renewal;
this was the longest time at which the usurer ever loaned his money.
For one year Mrs. John Tompkins was in her glory. She gave six large
parties during that time, at a heavy cost. Her husband,
notwithstanding the loan of fifteen thousand dollars, was in trouble
about money matters; Business had been unusually dull both in the
spring and fall, and money hard to collect. Nearly ten thousand
dollars, which he had fully expected to receive from distant
customers, failed to come in. As the period for which he had
borrowed from Wolford drew toward its close, he could not but feel
uneasy. From no other quarter had he any hope of raising so large a
sum as fifteen thousand dollars upon his house. He was poring over
his bill-book, one day, when the man he had thought of far more
frequently than was pleasant to him, came in. Mr. Tompkins felt
uneasy.
"Ah--how do you do, Mr. Wolford?" said he, affecting a pleased air.
"Sit down."
Wolford looked grave. He had come on business, and to him business
matters were of serious import. He returned the merchant's
salutation with formality, seated himself deliberately, and, resting
his hands upon the head of his cane, looked up with a sinister
expression on his face.
"A fine day this, Mr. Wolford," said Tompkins.
"Yes, very fine. How is business?"
"Dull--terribly dull. I have never known such a business season.
There is absolutely nothing doing."
Wolford made no reply.
"I suppose you have plenty of money to lend," remarked the merchant,
hardly knowing why he said so.
"No--not a dollar. It's tight with me as well as it is with you. And
this brings me to the subject-matter of my visit. You are no doubt
aware that, according to the terms of the loan, you are to return my
fifteen thousand dollars in a few days?"
"Yes, I am aware of it. Must you have it all?"
"Every dollar; and I want three times as much, if I can get it."
"I was in hope you would renew the loan, Mr. Wolford."
"That's impossible."
"I really don't see how I am to raise fifteen thousand dollars in a
few days--these times."
"You have had long enough to make it up, I am sure. You knew very
well that the loan would come due next week, and that it was only
for one year."
"Yes, I knew all that, very well."
"And yet you are not prepared to pay it?"
"No, I certainly am not to-day. What I may be in a week is more than
I can tell."
Wolford did not want the money he had loaned to Mr. Tompkins--that
is, he had no _use_ for it. But he could never rest contented for
any length of time under the reflection that another person was
enjoying his money. He took an insane delight, too, in making others
feel his power. If Mr. Tompkins had obtained the amount, and
tendered it to Wolford, two weeks before it was due, the miser would
have, in all probability, solicited him to keep it on even better
terms than at first obtained; but to appear anxious about the
matter, was to foreclose all chances of a renewal.