NOTICE TO QUIT
Before the year was over Mrs. Betty had become popular with Maxwell's
parishioners through her unfailing good-nature, cordiality and
persistent optimism. Even Mrs. Nolan, who lived down by the bridge,
and made rag carpets, and suffered from chronic dyspepsia, remarked to
Mrs. Burke that she thought the parson's wife was very nice "'cause
she 'aint a bit better than any of the rest of us,"--which tribute to
Mrs. Betty's tact made Mrs. Burke smile and look pleased. All the
young men and girls of the parish simply adored her, and it was
marvelous how she managed to keep in touch with all the guilds, do her
own housework, and learn to know everyone intimately. Hepsey warned
her that she was attempting to do too much.
"The best parson's wife," she said, "is the one who makes the rest
work, while she attends to her own household, and keeps her health.
Her business is not to do the work of the parson, but to look after
him, keep him well nourished, and cheer him up a little bit when he is
tempted to take the next trolley for Timbuctoo."
The retort was so tempting that Mrs. Betty could not help saying:
"There's not a person in this town who does so much for others as you
do, and who makes so little fuss about it. It's the force of your
example that has led me astray, you see."
"Hm!" Hepsey replied. "I'm glad you called my attention to it. I shall
try to break myself of the habit at once."
As for Maxwell, his practical helpfulness in forwarding the social
life of the place, without in the least applying that phase of his
activities as a lever for spiritual upheavals, and his ready sympathy
for and interest in the needs and doings of young and old,
irrespective of class or caste, gradualy reaped for him the affection
and respect of all sorts and conditions. In fact, the year had been a
pleasant one for him, and was marred by only one circumstance, the
continued and growing hostility of his Senior Warden, Mr. Bascom. From
the first, he had been distinctly unfriendly towards his rector; but
soon after Maxwell's marriage, his annoying opposition was quite open
and pronounced, and the weight of his personal influence was thrown
against every move which Maxwell made towards the development of the
parish life and work.
To those more "in the know" than the Maxwells themselves, it was
evident that a certain keen aggressiveness evinced by the Senior
Warden was foreign to his phlegmatic, brooding character, and it was
clear to them that the actively malicious virus was being administered
by the disappointed Virginia. That she was plotting punishment, in
revenge for wounded _amour propre_, was clear to the initiated, who
were apprehensive of the bomb she was evidently preparing to burst
over the unconscious heads of the rector and his wife. But what could
her scheme be?
Gradually Mrs. Burke noticed that Betty began to show fatigue and
anxiety, and was losing the freshness of her delicate color; while
Donald had become silent and reserved, and wore a worried look which
was quite unnatural to him. Something was going wrong; of that she
felt sure; but observant though she was, she failed to trace the
trouble to its source.
Matters came to a crisis one day when Maxwell was informed that some
one was waiting to see him in the parlor. The visitor was dressed in
very pronounced clothes, and carried himself with a self-assertive
swagger. Maxwell had seen him in Bascom's office, and knew who was
waiting for him long before he reached the parlor, by the odor of
patchouli which penetrated to the hall.
"Good morning, Mr. Nelson," said Maxwell. "Did you wish to see me?"
"Yes, I did, Mr. Maxwell, and I am sure it is a great pleasure."
The man seated himself comfortably in a large chair, put the tips of
his fingers together, and gazed about the room with an expression of
pleased patronage.
"Very pretty home you have here," he remarked suavely.
"Yes," Maxwell replied. "We manage to make ourselves comfortable. Did
you wish to see me on business?"
"Oh yes," the lawyer replied, "a mere technicality. I represent the
firm of Bascom & Nelson, or rather I should say I am Mr. Bascom's
legal agent just at present, as I have not yet been admitted as his
partner----"
The man stopped, smirked, and evidently relished prolonging his
interview with Maxwell, who was getting impatient. Maxwell drew his
watch from his pocket, and there was a look in his eyes which made the
lawyer proceed:
"The fact is, Rector, that I came to see you on a matter of business
about the rectory--as Mr. Bascom's agent."
"Will you kindly state it?"
"It concerns the use of this house."
"In what way? This is the rectory of the church, and the rental of it
is part of my salary."
"You are mistaken. Mr. Bascom owns the house, and you are staying here
merely on sufferance."
For a moment Maxwell was too astonished to speak; then he began:
"Mr. Bascom owns this house? What do you mean? The house is part of
the property of the church."
"You are mistaken, my friend."
"You will kindly not repeat that form of address, and explain what you
mean," replied Maxwell heatedly.
"Come, come; there's no use in losing your temper, my dear rector,"
retorted Nelson offensively.
"You have just two minutes to explain yourself, sir; and I strongly
advise you to improve the opportunity, before I put you out of this
house.'"
Nelson, like most bullies, was a coward, and evidently concluded that
he would take no risks. He continued:
"As I said before, Sylvester Bascom practically owns this house. It
does not belong to the church property. The Episcopals made a big
bluff at buying it years ago, and made a very small payment in cash;
Bascom took a mortgage for the rest. The interest was paid regularly
for a while, and then payments began to fall off. As you have reason
to know, Bascom is a generous and kind-hearted man, who would not for
the world inconvenience his rector, and so he has allowed the matter
to go by default, until the back interest amounts to a considerable
sum. Of course the mortgage is long past due, and as he needs the
money, he has commissioned me to see you and inform you that he is
about to foreclose, and to ask you to vacate the premises as soon as
you conveniently can. I hope that I make myself reasonably clear."
In a perfectly steady voice Maxwell replied:
"What you say is clear enough; whether it is true is another matter.
I will see Mr. Bascom at once, and ask for his own statement of the
case."
"I don't think it necessary to see him, as he has expressly authorized
me to act for him in the case."
"Then I suppose you came her to serve the notice of ejectment on me."
"Oh, we won't use such strong language as that. I came here merely to
tell you that the house must be vacated soon as possible. Mr. Bascom
has gone to New York on business and will not be back for two weeks.
Meantime he wishes the house vacated, so that he can rent it to other
parties."
"When does the Senior Warden propose to eject his rector, if I may be
allowed to ask?"
"Oh, there is no immediate hurry. Any time this week will do."
"What does he want for this place?"
"I believe he expects fifteen dollars a month."
"Well, of course that is prohibitive. Tell Mr. Bascom that we will
surrender the house on Wednesday, and that we are greatly indebted to
him for allowing us to occupy it rent-free for so long a time."
As Donald showed the objectionable visitor out of the house, he caught
sight of Hepsey Burke walking towards it. He half hoped she would pass
by, but with a glance of suspicion and barely civil greeting to
Nelson as he walked away, she came on, and with a friendly nod to
Maxwell entered the rectory.
"I've just been talkin' to Mrs. Betty for her good," she remarked. "I
met her in town, lookin' as peaked as if she'd been fastin' double
shifts, and I had a notion to come in and complete the good work on
yourself."
Maxwell's worried face told its own story. He was so nonplused by the
bolt just dropped from the blue that he could find no words of
responsive raillery wherewith to change the subject.
Hepsey led the way to the parlor and seated herself, facing him
judicially. In her quick mind the new evidence soon crystallized into
proof of her already half-formed suspicions. She came straight to the
point.
"Is Bascom making you any trouble? If he is, say so, 'cause I happen
to have the whip-hand so far as he's concerned. That Nelson's nothin'
but a tool of his, and a dull tool at that."
"He's an objectionable person, I must say," remarked Maxwell, and
hesitated to trust himself further.
Mrs. Burke gazed at Maxwell for some time in silence and then began:
"You look about done up--I don't want to be pryin', but I guess you'd
better own up. Something's the matter."
"I am just worried and anxious, and I suppose I can't help showing
it," he replied wearily.
"So you're worried, are you. Now don't you get the worried habit; if
it makes a start it will grow on you till you find yourself worryin'
for fear the moon won't rise. Worryin's like usin' rusty scissors: it
sets your mouth awry. You just take things as they come, and when it
seems as if everything was goin' to smash and you couldn't help it,
put on your overalls and paint a fence, or hammer tacks, or any old
thing that comes handy. What has that rascal Bascom been doin'? Excuse
me--my diplomacy's of the hammer-and-tongs order; you're not gettin'
your salary paid?"
For some time Maxwell hesitated and then answered:
"Well, I guess I might as well tell you, because you will know all
about it anyway in a day or two, and you might as well get a correct
version of the affair from me, though I hate awfully to trouble you.
The parish owes me two hundred and fifty dollars. I spoke to Reynolds
about it several times, but he says that Bascom and several of his
intimate friends won't pay their subscriptions promptly, and so he
can't pay me. But the shortage in my salary is not the worst of it.
Did you know that the rectory was heavily mortgaged, and that Bascom
holds the mortgage?"
"Yes, I knew it; but we paid something down', and the interest's been
kept up, and we hoped that if we did that Bascom would be satisfied."
"It seems that the interest has not been paid in some time, and the
real reason why Nelson called just now was to inform me that as Bascom
was about to foreclose we must get out as soon as we could. I told him
that we would leave on Wednesday next."
For a moment there was a look on Mrs. Burke's face which Maxwell never
had seen before, and which boded ill for Bascom: but she made no
immediate reply.
"To tell you the truth," she said finally, "I have been afraid of
this. That was the only thing that worried me about your gettin'
married. But I felt that no good would come from worryin', and that if
Bascom was goin' to play you some dirty trick, he'd do it; and now
he's done it. What's got into the man, all of a sudden? He's a
skinflint--always closer than hair to a dog's back; but I don't
believe I've ever known him do somethin' downright ugly, like this."
"Oh, I know well enough," remarked Donald. "If I had been aware of how
matters stood about the rectory, I should have acted differently. I
wrote him a pretty stiff letter a day or two ago, calling upon him,
as Senior Warden, to use his influence to fulfill the contract with
me, and get the arrears of my salary paid up. I suppose he had thought
I would just get out of the place if my salary was held back--and he's
wanted to get rid of me for some time. Now, he's taken this other
means of ejecting me not only from his house but from the town itself.
He knows I can't afford to pay the rent out of my salary--let alone
out of half of it!" He laughed rather bitterly.
"He'll be singing a different tune, before I've done with him," said
Hepsey. "Now you leave this to me--I'll have a twitch on old Bascom's
nose that'll make him think of something else than ejecting his
rector. I'll go and visit with him a little this afternoon."
"But Nelson said that he was in New York."
"I know better than that," snorted Hepsey. "But I guess he'll want to
go there, and stay the winter there too, maybe, when I've had my say.
No sir--I'm goin' to take my knittin' up to his office, and sit
awhile; and if he doesn't have the time of his life it won't be my
fault."
She turned to leave the room, with a belligerent swing of her
shoulders.
"Mrs. Burke," said Maxwell gently, "you are kindness itself; but I
don't want you to do this--at least not yet. I want to fight this
thing through myself, and rather to shame Bascom into doing the right
thing than force him to do it--even if the latter were possible. I
must think things out a bit. I shall want your help--we always do,
Betty and I."
"I don't know but you're right; but if your plan don't work, remember
mine _will_. Well, Mrs. Betty'll be coming in soon, and I'll leave
you. Meantime I shall just go home and load my guns: I'm out for
Bascom's hide, sooner or later."
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