John Marvel, Assistant Part 18

"Of course, it does. You will have to go to a lawyer to ascertain the exact status of the t.i.tle; but I have always understood it does. Why, your aunt, Mrs. Argand, owns thousands of shares, doesn't she, and your father?" A grave suspicion suddenly flitted across his mind relative to a rumor he had heard of heavy losses by Mr. Leigh and large gains by Mr.

Canter, the president of the road, and his a.s.sociates who, according to this rumor, were hostile to Mr. Leigh.

"I don't know, but even if they do, I am not sure that that makes them owners. Did you read that article?"

"No--well, not all of it--I glanced over a part of it, enough to see that it was very scurrilous, that's all. The headlines were simply atrocious. The article itself was not so wickedly----"

"I should like to do some work among the poor," said the girl irrelevantly.

"Why, certainly--just what we need--the earnest interest and a.s.sistance of just such persons as yourself, of your cla.s.s; the good, earnest, representatives of the upper cla.s.s. If we had all like you there would be no cry from Macedonia."

"Well, how can I go about it?" demanded the girl rather cutting in on the rector's voluble reply.

"Why, you can teach in the Sunday-school--we have a cla.s.s of nice girls, ladies, you know, a very small one--and I could make my superintendent arrange for Miss--for the lady who now has them to take another cla.s.s--one of the orphan cla.s.ses."

"No, I don't mean that kind of thing. If I taught at all I should like to try my hand at the orphan cla.s.s myself."

"Well, that could be easily arranged--" began the rector; but his visitor kept on without heeding him.

"Only I should want to give them all different hats and dresses. I can't bear to see all those poor little things dressed exactly in the same way--sad, drab or gray frocks, all cut by the same pattern--and the same hats, year in and year out."

"Why, they have new hats every year," expostulated the rector.

"I mean the same kind of hat. Tall and short; stout and thin; slim or pudgy; they all wear the same horrible, round hats--I can't bear to look at them. I vow I'd give them all a different hat for Christmas."

"Oh! my dear, you can't do that--you would spoil them--and it's against the regulations. You must remember that these children are orphans!"

"Being orphans is bad enough," declared the girl, "but those hats are worse. Well, I can't teach them, but I might try some other poor cla.s.s?"

"Why, let me see. The fact is that we haven't any"--he was speaking slowly, casting his mind over his field--"very poor people in this church. There used to be a number; but they don't come any more. They must have moved out of the neighborhood. I must make my a.s.sistant look them up."

"You have no poor, then?"

"Not in this congregation. The fact is this church is not very well suited to them. They don't mix with our people. You see our cla.s.s of people--of course, we are doing a great work among the poor, our chapels--we have three, one of them, indeed, is a church and larger than many independent churches. Another has given me some anxiety, but the third is doing quite a remarkable work among the working people out in the east end--that under my a.s.sistant, the young man you interested yourself so much in last year--and which your ball committee was good enough to consider in selecting the object of its benevolence."

"Yes, I know--Mr. Marvel. I will go out there."

"Oh! my dear, you couldn't go out there!"

"Why not? I want to see him."

"Why, it is away out on the edge of the city--what you might call the jumping-off place--among manufactories and railroad shops."

"Yes, I know. I have been out there."

"You have--why, it is away out. It is on--I don't recall the name of the street. It's away out. I know it's near the street-car terminus that your family own. It's a very pretty chapel indeed. Don't you think so?

It is natural that you should take an interest in it, as your aunt, Mrs.

Argand, helped us to build it. She gave the largest contribution toward it. I don't know what we should do without charitable women like her."

"Yes, I know. And Mr. Marvel is coming on well?"

A change came over the face of the rector. "Oh, very well--rather an ungainly fellow and very slow, but doing a very good work for our parish. I have been wanting to get the Bishop to go there all this year as there are a number of candidates for me to present; but he has been so busy and I have been so busy----"

"I will go there," said Miss Leigh, rising.

"I don't think you will like it," urged the rector. "It is a very bad part of the town--almost dangerous, indeed--filled with working people and others of that sort, and I don't suppose a carriage ever----"

"I will go in the street cars," said the girl.

"The street cars! Yes, you could go that way, but why not come here and let me a.s.sign you a cla.s.s?"

"I wish to work among the poor."

"The happy poor!" said the rector, smiling. "Why not come and help me in my work--who need you so much?" His voice had changed suddenly and he attempted to possess himself of the gloved hand that rested on his table, but it was suddenly withdrawn.

"I thought we had settled that finally last year," said Miss Leigh firmly.

"Ah, yes; but the heart is not so easily regulated."

"Oh! yes, yours is. Why don't you try Aunt Sophia again?"

"Try--again?--who?" The rector was manifestly somewhat embarra.s.sed.

"Why, Aunt Sophia--'the evening star,'" said Miss Leigh, laughing.

"Who says--? Did she say I had--ah--addressed her?"

"No--I got it from you. Come on now----"

"Which way are you going? That is just my way. May I have the pleasure of driving up with you? I must go and see your aunt and welcome her back. One moment." He had shown the young lady out of the door. He now turned back and folding up the stock bulletin placed it carefully in his pocket.

As the carriage with its smart team turned into one of the broader streets, two young men were standing in a window of a large building highly decorated, looking idly out on the street. They had just been talking of the threatened strike which the newspapers were discussing, as to which they held similar views.

"I tell you what is the matter with those scoundrels," said the elder of the two, a large, pampered young fellow; "they need cold steel--they ought to be made to work."

"How would that suit us?" laughed the other.

"We don't have to."

"h.e.l.lo! What's old Bart after?" observed the first one.

"Shekels," said the other, and yawned.

"After her--he's taking notice."

"Oh! no; he's wedded to the tape--goes into the Grand five times a day and reads the tape."

"Bet you, he courts her."

"How'll you prove it?"