Desk and Debit Part 45

Under the circ.u.mstances I could say no more. The time for proving my claim evidently had not come. I made no promises in regard to the forbidden topic; but I decided to wait for a more favorable opportunity to press the subject. I was invited to breakfast with the family, and accepted. I was vexed and mortified to find that I was not acknowledged as a nephew, grandson, and cousin; but I found that I had one believer in Marian. I had convinced her with my unsupported word; but I intended to show her the evidence.

After breakfast I went to my boarding-house, and repaired at once to Mrs. Whippleton's room. She was better than when I had left her, three days before, and was able to open upon me in a volley of reproaches for my treachery and dishonesty, as she bluntly called them.

"I thought there wan't but one honest feller in the world, and I was cheated in him," said she, bitterly.

"Not exactly, Mrs. Whippleton," I replied, handing her the sealed package. "There are your papers and your money."

"No; you don't say it!"

"Open it, and see."

It took an hour for her to count the money and examine the papers. She compared them with the receipt I had given her, and nothing was missing.

"Well, I reckon you be honest, after all," said she, cheerfully. "Who'd 'a thought it! But where is Charles? I didn't know but he might got the papers away from you. He wanted to raise all the money he could to save himself from ruin."

"Not for that; but to set himself up in business in China," I replied; and then I told the story of her son's misdeeds.

"So he's in jail--is he?" exclaimed she. "Well, I was afraid it would come to this, when I heard he was in trouble, for Charles never was as shrewd as he ought to be."

"Shrewd!" I replied, in disgust. "He has followed out your maxims of worldly wisdom, instead of being true to G.o.d, himself, and his fellow-beings; and now he has his reward."

"Well, I don't know what all that has to do with it. I say he wan't shrewd," persisted the old lady.

"He has practised just what you taught him."

"No, he didn't!" replied she. "He wan't cunning."

"Good by, Mrs. Whippleton. I only hope you will live long enough to repent of your sins, and learn, before it is too late, that worldly wisdom will not carry an immortal being through this world and the world to come."

I had not patience to hear any more. I went to my room, and I did not leave it for a week. The blow I had received on the head, with the excitement and fatigue of the cruise down the lake, made me sick. I wrote to my father after I had been confined to my chamber three days; and when I was about well enough to go out again, he came to see me, though he started as soon as he received my letter. I had never seen him looking so well; and certainly I should never have suspected that he was the degraded sot whom I had met in front of the Planters' Hotel, in St. Louis. He was dressed in sober black, and was neat, and even elegant, in his appearance. He had grown moderately fleshy under the regimen of total abstinence, and all the toddy-blossoms had disappeared from his face.

We had a long talk in my chamber, and he gave me such advice as the occasion demanded. He thought that, as I had established myself in the good opinion of the firm, I had better stay with them, especially as the salary was very handsome.

"I shall hardly be able to leave the prohibited topic untouched," I added.

"Your own self-respect should induce you to do that. If your grandfather and your uncle will not hear you, there is no law to compel them to do so. Do you know when your mother intends to return?"

"I do not; I cannot even learn where she is; but Marian has promised to ascertain for me. I mean to stay with the firm about a year longer. If my mother don't come by that time, I shall go for her. I will find her."

"Well, a trip to Europe will do you no harm; but she will probably return before the year is out."

We decided to wait the turn of future events because we could not help ourselves, rather than because we were willing. On the following Monday, I took my place in the counting-room again, and it was Desk and Debit once more. My father called there during the day to take leave of me. It so happened that both Mr. Richard Collingsby and his father came in while he was there. They looked at him, but did not recognize him.

They appeared to think they knew him, and spoke to him.

"I know your face very well," said Richard, "but I can't call you by name."

"My name is Edward Farringford," replied my father.

"And he is my father," I added.

"I am glad to see you looking so well, Edward," said the old gentleman, coldly. "I hear you are doing well; but don't say a word to me about that silly story."

"I don't intend to do so. I wish to say, sir, that while I plead guilty to all you have charged upon me in the past, I have no occasion to ask any favors for the future, except your kind regard. I wish to see my wife--"

"Never, sir! Never!" protested Mr. Collingsby, senior, as he rushed into his counting-room.

"I wish you well, Ned," added Mr. Richard; "but I am sorry to find you attempting to impose upon our family."

My father bowed, but made no reply, and the son followed the father into the sanctum.

"I can't stay here, father," I protested, cut to the quick by the conduct of my employers.

"Be patient, Philip. When I think what I was, I can hardly blame them.

Keep your place. You will be nearer to your mother here, when she returns, than in any other place."

I consented to stay, and I did stay. My father went home that night, and I applied myself diligently to the work of opening a new set of books for Collingsby and Faxon. I was treated with a great deal of consideration by the senior and his father; but I never alluded to my relationship to them. I was sure of a storm if I did so.

Mr. Whippleton was discharged from custody after he had fully indemnified the firm for its losses. There were too many legal doubts in the way of his prosecution to render it advisable to proceed against him, even if the Collingsbys had been disposed to do so. But he was a ruined man. He could not even obtain a situation as a clerk in Chicago.

His mother set him up in business in Cincinnati; but he failed, and lost all she had loaned him. His reputation followed him wherever he went. He finally obtained all his mother's property, and both of them were reduced to poverty. The last time I saw the old lady, I am sure she was a better woman, and was willing to confess that worldly wisdom did not insure either success or happiness.

Mr. Waterford was not seen in Chicago again. I afterwards met him in New York. Before his boat was sold, I made an excursion in her to the lagoon where the Florina was moored. Marian and other ladies went with me, and I sailed them home in the yacht, which was now my property. I found time to sail in her occasionally, and the Collingsbys were often pa.s.sengers. I changed her name, and called her the ELLA GRACEWOOD.

I had a week's vacation in the summer, and visited St. Louis. Mrs.

Greenough was delighted to see me, and treated me like a son. When I returned, I carried with me the relics of my childhood. One afternoon, on board of the Ella Gracewood, I showed them to Marian and her mother.

Mrs. Collingsby recognized the portrait of my mother, and I think she was convinced that I was her nephew; but she was more prudent than Marian, and refused to commit herself.

I was no nearer my mother than when I came to Chicago; but I had a lively hope of the future. I still looked forward with glowing antic.i.p.ations to the time when our little family should be reunited under the same roof.

I have told my story, and related all the catastrophes of a clerk. I staid in the counting-room of Collingsby and Faxon a year and a half, when the business was again closed by the death of the junior partner.

Mr. Richard decided to retire, as he might have done years before. The new firm, to whom the business was sold, offered me a salary of twelve hundred a year; but I declined it, and was again free from any engagement.

My mother had not yet returned. At the last accounts she was living at Nice, with her brother, whose wife was very feeble. I was eighteen, and I determined to go to her. I could no longer endure the separation; and with this resolve I bade farewell to DESK AND DEBIT.

OLIVER OPTIC'S

LAKE Sh.o.r.e SERIES.

Through by Daylight; Or, The Young Engineer of the Lake Sh.o.r.e Railroad.

Lightning Express; Or, The Rival Academies.