Rich Enough Part 2

"No," said Howard; "this is the only uninterrupted day I have with my family, and it is our regular habit to attend public worship. To-morrow morning we will ride over as early as you please, but to-day I hope you will accept as a day of rest from business."

Mr. Draper had thought it quite impossible to give a part of the next morning to his family, but he always found time for business.

Accordingly, when the morning arrived, they rode over to Clyde Farm.

"I remember that farm perfectly well," said Mr. Draper; "it was my favorite resort when I was a boy."

"I remember those times too," replied Howard, "when I used to lie stretched at full length by the side of the waterfall, getting my _amo, amas_, and only now and then roused by the distant sound of your gun, which put all the little birds to flight."

"Has it still that fine run of water?" asked Mr. Draper.

"Precisely the same," replied Howard; "this very stream that flows through my pasture, and sparkles in the morning sun, comes from old Clyde. Look this way, and see what a leap it takes over those rocks."

Clyde Farm was just such a spot as a romantic, visionary mind might choose for its vagaries,--such a spot as an elevated, contemplative one might select for its aspirations after higher hopes, which seldom come in the tumult of life. Mr. Draper felt at once that the place was congenial to the taste and habits of his wife; it awoke in his own mind the recollection of his boyish days, and from these he naturally reverted to the days of courtship, when he talked of scenery and prospect as eloquently as Frances. With a light step he followed his brother along the stream that came leaping and bounding from the hills, till they arrived at the still little lake whence it took its course. The mists of the morning had dispersed, and the blue sky and white clouds were reflected from its gla.s.sy surface, while on its borders the deep, dark foliage of the woods lay inverted. Both of the brothers stood silent when they reached the edge of the water; both were impressed with the beauty of the scene.

"How delighted Frances would be with this spot!" said Howard. "It is like the calm, tranquil mirror of her own mind, which seems formed to reflect only the upper world, with its glorious firmament. I think we have before us two excellent prototypes of our wives:--while the clear, peaceful lake represents yours, this happy, joyous, busy little stream may be likened to my Charlotte, who goes on her way rejoicing, and diffusing life and animation wherever she bends her course."

"I wish Frances had a little more of her gayety," said Mr. Draper.

"Depend upon it," said Howard, "they will operate favorably on each other. I perceive already a mingling of character. I will venture to predict, Charlotte will have a boat with its gay streamers winding the sh.o.r.e before long, and persuade her sister to become the 'Lady of the Lake.'"

The matter was soon decided; the sisters visited the place, and were enchanted with it; and Howard was authorized by his brother to make the purchase.

The house had been built many years. It was irregular in its form, and certainly belonged to no particular order of architecture. There was a large dining-room, and doors that opened upon the green, and plenty of small rooms; in short, it was just such a house as Frances fancied; it was picturesque, and looked, she said, "as if it had grown and shot out here and there like the old oaks around it."

Charlotte begged that on herself might devolve the care of furnishing it.

"I know better than you," said she, "what will save trouble. Banish bra.s.s and mahogany; admit nothing that requires daily labor to make it fine and showy. I do not despair of setting you up a dairy, and teaching you to churn your own b.u.t.ter." She truly loved and honored her sister-in- law, and trembled for her life, which she was persuaded she held by a frail tenure. She was eager to prevent her returning to the city during the warm season, and readily undertook to go herself and make all necessary arrangements. Frances furnished her with a list, and left much discretionary power to her agent.

In the course of a few days she returned.--"We must be at Clyde Farm to- morrow," said she, "to receive the goods and chattels of which I am only the precursor. Your husband enters warmly into the furnishing of your country residence, and therefore we must let him have a voice in it. His taste is not so simple as ours, so we must admit some of the finery of the town house; pier and chimney gla.s.ses are to be sent from it. I did not make much opposition to this, for they will not only reflect our rustic figures within, but the trees and gra.s.s without. How I long to have haying-time come! You must ride from the fields with your children, as I do, on a load of hay, when the work of the day is over, and look down upon all the world. O Frances," added she, "if we could only persuade your husband to turn farmer, our victory would be complete."

"It will never be," said Frances.

"I don't know that," replied Charlotte; "he seemed to set very little value on the city residence, and would fain have stripped his elegant rooms to dignify your rustic retreat; but I would not consent to the migration of a particle of gilding or damask, but told him he might send the marble slabs, with the mirrors,--and I speak for one of the slabs for the dairy. But I have been more thoughtful for you than you have for yourself: look at this list of books that I have ordered."

Frances was surprised; she had never seen Charlotte with a book in her hand, and she candidly expressed her astonishment that, amidst all her hurry, she had remembered _books_.

"Where do you think I acquired all my knowledge," said Charlotte, "if I never open a book? But you are half right; I certainly do not patronize book-making; and yet all summer I am reading the book of Nature. I open it with the first snow-drop and crocus which peeps from under her white robe; and then, when she puts on her green mantle, strewed with

'The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose,'

I study the lilies of the field. Depend upon it, there is more wisdom without doors than we can find within,--more wisdom there than in books."

"I believe it," said Frances; "all nature speaks of the Creator,--of the one great Mind which formed this endless variety, and can give life to the most insignificant flower that grows by the way-side."

"I should like to know what flower you call insignificant," said Charlotte; "not this little houstonia, I hope; that has a perfection of organization in which many of your splendid green-house flowers are deficient. But that is the way with us: we call those things sublime which are on a large scale, because they are magnified to our narrow minds, and we can comprehend them without any trouble.--But I must not display all my wisdom to you at once--how, like Solomon of old, I can speak of trees, from 'the cedar-tree that is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall.'--And now, fair sister,

'Up, up, and quit your books,'

and come with me to one of my studios--namely, my poultry-yard. I hear the bipeds clamorous for their supper."

"This is the woman," thought Frances, "that I have sometimes wondered Howard, with his reflecting mind, could select as his partner for life!

Because I saw her, like the Deity she worships, attending to the most minute affairs, I foolishly imagined she comprehended no others."

From this time the two sisters resembled in union Shakspeare's twin cherries growing on one stem.

CHAPTER III.

The furniture arrived, and the country residence was very soon in order.

Howard took the direction of the farming part. But it was no object to Frances to have much ploughing or planting. She loved the "green pastures and still waters," and often repeated those beautiful lines of the hymn--

"To dewy vales and flowery meads, My weary, fainting steps he leads, Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow, Amid the verdant landscape flow."

Clyde Farm was a singularly retired spot, notwithstanding its vicinity to a country village, which, on a straight line, was about two miles from it. But there was a high hill between, that belonged to the farm, and was crowned with oak and chestnut trees; while here and there was an opening which gave a perfect view of the village, with its church, academy, and square four-story tavern, with windows enough to give it the appearance of a huge lantern. The high road was a mile from the house, and no dwelling was nearer. The hill overlooked one of those New England landscapes that could not be wrought into a well-composed picture; objects were too abundant; it was dotted with farms and sheets of water; and beyond, the beautiful Merrimac wound its way. On this spot, Frances had a little open pavilion erected, and it was her resort at sunset. As her health improved, her mind opened to the impressions of happiness, and she grew almost gay. "There is but one thing more," said she to her brother and sister, "that I now desire in this world."

"Always one thing wanting for us poor mortals!" said Charlotte; "but let us hear what it is."

"That my husband, who is the liberal donor of my enjoyment, should partake of it."

"Pray be contented," replied she, "and let him enjoy himself in his own way."

"I have a letter for you," said Howard, "that came enclosed in one to me;" and, with an air of hesitation, he gave it to her.

Frances hastily took it; her color came and went as she read. It informed her, that the offers her husband had received for his estate in town had not only opened his eyes to its value, but had convinced him that, as a patriotic citizen, he had no right to retain it for his private use; he had therefore come to the conclusion to reap the benefit himself which other speculators had proposed to do. He should take down the house, make a street through the land, divide it into small lots, and erect a number of houses upon it, one of which he meant to reserve for himself. "I should regret what I conceive to be the necessity of this thing," he added, "if you were not so perfectly satisfied with your Clyde residence. As you will always repair to it early in the spring, it matters little if you return to walls of brick and mortar in the autumn."

We pa.s.s over the involuntary tears that followed this communication, as speculators would p.r.o.nounce them unreasonable. It now became necessary for Frances to visit the city to make arrangements, and take a last leave of her pleasant mansion. In justice, it must be said, she thought less of her own deprivation than of the new accession of care and toil that her husband was bringing upon himself.--When she returned to Clyde, she had lost by fatigue nearly all the health she had previously gained.

Most people have witnessed the rapidity with which the work of destruction goes on in modern days. In a very short time the splendid mansion was a pile of ruins, a street laid open, and buildings erecting on the spot.

Mr. Draper's visits to Clyde had been hitherto confined to the Sabbath, and generally terminated with it: but he now wrote to his wife that he intended to "pa.s.s a month with her. It was a comparative season of leisure; his vessels had sailed, his buildings were going on well, and he should be able to enjoy the quiet of the country."

Frances received this intelligence with new-born hope. She felt certain, that one month, pa.s.sed amidst the tranquil pleasures of the country, would regenerate his early tastes. She talked eloquently of the corrupting atmosphere of the city, and was sanguine that now all would go well; that his inordinate engrossment in business would yield to the influences by which he would find himself surrounded. And so it turned out, for a few days. Mr. Draper was as happy as an affectionate husband and father must naturally be, reunited to the objects of his tenderness.

He said that "he felt uncommonly well, had much less of the dyspepsy than he had experienced for years," followed his little girls to their favorite haunts, and seemed to realize the blessing of leisure. Howard, with his family, pa.s.sed the third day with them. Towards evening, they all ascended the hill. Mr. Draper was struck with the extensive view, and the beauty of his wife's domain, for he scrupulously called it her own. "What a waste of water!" he exclaimed. "What a n.o.ble run for mills and manufactories!" Poor Frances actually turned pale; but, collecting her spirits, she said, "It is hardly right to call it a _waste_ of water."

"Liberal, not lavish, is kind Nature's hand."

In the mean time, Mr. Draper had taken his pencil, and on the back of a letter was making lines and dashes. "Look here," said he to Howard. "See how perfectly this natural ledge of rocks may be converted into a dam: it seems precisely made for it: then, by digging a ca.n.a.l to conduct the water a little to the left, there is a fine site for a cotton-manufactory, which, built of granite, would add much to the beauty of the prospect. Just here, where that old tree is thrown across the stream, a bridge may be built, in the form of an arch, which also must be of stone. It will make the view altogether perfect."

"I cannot think," said Howard, "the view would be improved; you would have a great stone building, with its countless windows and abutments, but you would lose the still, tranquil effect of the prospect, and take much from the beauty of the stream."

"Not as I shall manage it," said Mr. Draper. "I am sure Frances herself will agree with me that it adds fifty per cent. to the beauty of the prospect when she sees it completed."

In vain Frances protested she was satisfied with it as it was; the month that she had hoped was to be given to leisure was one of the busiest of her husband's life. Contracts were made--an a.s.sociation formed. Mr.

Draper was continually driving to the city, and mechanics were pa.s.sing to and fro. Clyde Farm began to wear the appearance of a business place. A manufacturing company was incorporated under the t.i.tle of the Clyde Mills. The stillness of the spot was exchanged for the strokes of the pickaxe, the human voice urging on oxen and horses, the blasting of rocks; the gra.s.s was trampled down, the trees were often wantonly injured, and, where they obstructed the tracks of wheels, laid prostrate.

Frances no longer delighted to walk at noon day under the thick foliage that threw its shadow on the gra.s.s as vividly as a painting. All was changed! It is true she now saw her husband, but she had but little more of his society; his mind and time were wholly engrossed; he came often, and certainly did not, as formerly, confine his visits to the Sabbath.