Extravagant Living CHAPTER 9.
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A sadder, and perhaps, in some respects, a wiser man, Mark Pinkerton returned to the city, after staying in his native village until the clods of the valley were laid upon the mortal remains of his sister. Never, in all his after years, did his thoughts go back to this period of life, without a feeling of painful self-reproach, made sharper by a few plainly spoken words from the lips of aunt Mary Jones, that could not be forgotten, and were never forgiven, and which, moreover, were made the self-justifying excuse for his disregard of Lucy's dying injunction.
We return, now, to Archibald Lofton. On the morning after the interview with Ellen Birch, which has already been described, the young man went to the store in which he was employed in a more sobered and thoughtful mood than usual. The question, as to whether he would be justified, or not, in marrying under present circumstances, was still debated, and still as far from being decided at first.
"How is Ellen getting along?" inquired one of his employers — the same who had previously shown so kind an interest in the young girl — pausing at the desk where Lofton was writing.
"She's a great deal better, thank you," was answered.
"I'm much pleased to hear it."
The two were silent for a few moments.
"How much salary are we paying you now?" inquired the merchant.
"Four hundred dollars a year," said Lofton.
"Four hundred." The merchant stood musing for some time. "Four hundred," he repeated, as if speaking to himself. "I think you're worth more than that, Archibald," he added, in a cheerful voice. "Suppose we say six hundred?"
"Oh, sir!" Lofton was taken by surprise "If you could increase my salary to that sum — you would make me one of the happiest of men!"
"Would I, indeed!" The merchant smiled,
He understood what was in the thought of his clerk. Lofton looked slightly confused, and let his eyes fall to the ground.
"Six hundred it is!" said the former. "We will let the increased salary date from the commencement of the current quarter. And may you be as happy, my young friend, as your heart can wish."
The merchant turned away, and Lofton bent low over his desk, not, for the time being, to resume his duties, but to think over the new and brighter aspect which his affairs had so suddenly assumed.
How slowly the hours went by! It seemed to Lofton as if the day would never come to an end. At last, he was by the side of Ellen, clasping her hand tightly in his, and telling her of his good fortune. Before they parted, that evening, an early day was fixed for their marriage, so early that only time for needful preparation on the part of Ellen remained. If her health had been good, Lofton would have deemed it wiser to defer so important a step for at least a year, or until he could have saved enough to buy furniture for a small house, that they might, in beginning the world, have a home of their own. But it was otherwise. To leave her, any longer, self-dependent, would be risking too much.
So it was arranged, as the most prudent course for the young couple, to take a room which Mrs. Wilson offered them in her house, and to board with her at the moderate weekly rate of six dollars — just one half of Lofton's income. The addition of fifty dollars in the current quarter, to the young man's salary, enabled him to raise his deposit in the Savings Fund to the previous amount — two hundred dollars, while the balance of the quarter's income — one hundred dollars — procured him a wedding-suit, and a few articles of chamber furniture to give a somewhat neater and more comfortable appearance to the room Mrs. Wilson had assigned them.
And so this young couple began their new life. They had no brilliant wedding; none, with mirthful parties, welcomed them into the matrimonial world. A few friends gathered, one quiet evening, in Mrs. Wilson's small parlor, and there the impressive words were said, that sealed their life-long contract. Among those present, was young Pinkerton. He was, in fact, groomsman on the occasion. Lofton's refusal to lend him money, although it fretted him at the time, did not estrange him from one whose many good qualities he well knew, and whose sterling integrity of character he could not but admire. Since the death of his sister, Pinkerton had in some respects changed, though he was scarcely more prudent than before, in matters of personal expenditure. For a while, he was sober-minded; but this external mark of the bereavement, was fast wearing off.
Not until the wedding night had Lofton's friend been at the house of Mrs. Wilson. Its small size, out of the way location, and poverty of furniture, were noticed; and he could not but wonder at Lofton's choice of such a place as the home of his bride. On meeting him next day, he said —
"In the name of wonder, Archie, how did you come to choose that little old salt-box, as a cage for your pretty bride?"
"She will be as happy there as in a palace," answered Lofton.
"Oh, nonsense! Don't talk to me after that fashion. I know too much of human nature. And do you really mean to shut her up there with that old woman? She'll die of melancholy."
"Not she," was smilingly answered. "Oh no. She'll sing as gaily in that cage, as you are pleased to call it — as if the wires were of silver or gold. As for the old woman of whom you speak half-indifferently, no mother could have shown a wiser love for a child, than she has shown for Ellen. They have lived happily together for months, and, if need be, will live as happily together for years."
"But, why did you go way out there, Archie? Why didn't you bring your wife to your old home, if not prepared for housekeeping? That is near the center of the city, and there your wife would have some chance of making the acquaintance of people in good standing. She'll see nobody where she is. You'll be lost, both of you."
"No danger of our being lost, Mark," said Lofton, smiling again. "We'll wait patiently; and, if there is buoyancy in us — it will come to the surface in good time. With my present income, I could not afford to pay nine dollars a week for boarding, and that is the lowest for which a good room can be obtained at Mrs. Elder's."
"And what are you going to pay Mrs. Wilson for her elegant accommodations?"
"Six dollars."
"Well, that is a difference of only three dollars a week," said Pinkerton. "And I'm sure Mrs. Elder's room is worth twelve in comparison."
"Only three dollars a week? And how much will that amount to in a year, Mark?"
"About a hundred and fifty dollars."
"Worth saving, in my opinion."
"Not at the sacrifice you are making," said Pinkerton.
"I'm making no sacrifice," was calmly answered.
"Perhaps you are not," said the other, a little impatiently. "You can live anywhere — in a barn, for that matter, if money is to be saved thereby. But you must remember, Archie, that a young wife may have different views and feelings altogether."
"I am happy to say," replied Lofton, "that my young wife has no views nor feelings on this subject which differ from my own. She knows the extent of my resources, to the uttermost farthing, and she knew them before we were married. All this was talked over and definitely settled in advance. The manner in which we have commenced life, is in every way accordant with previous arrangements."
"Upon my word! A regular business transaction! You exhibited your bank account, and she emptied her purse into her lap, that you might see how many shillings it contained. Theruling passion! You don't mean to say that you have married for love!"
Lofton smiled as he answered —
"We are neither of us rich. I am a humble clerk, on a very moderate salary, and she was only a poor seamstress. In contemplating marriage, we were sensible enough to take eating, drinking, clothing, and such like matters into consideration, and had forethought enough to settle a range of expenditure in the beginning, which would leave a little margin. We shall probably increase our deposits in the Savings Fund at least three dollars a week; or, at the rate of a hundred and fifty dollars a year. And this we both think better than paying that sum extra to our present expenses, in order to get into such 'good society' as Mrs. Elder's boarding-house offers."
"And you really talked all this over before your marriage?" said Pinkerton, with more than a mere affectation of surprise.
"We certainly did; and when you contemplate marriage, let me advise you and your intended to imitate so good an example. It may save you future disappointments, embarrassments, and perhaps ruin."
"I would hardly like to throw such a wet blanket over the girlish fancies of my lady-love," replied Pinkerton, with a toss of the head. "In fact, I shall not attempt matrimony until some brighter prospects open before me. Not, in fact, until I am in business for myself, as I hope soon to be. There is no such thing as maintaining a respectable home on a clerk's salary, and none other I shall ever regard as good enough for the woman who consents to become Mrs. Pinkerton! When I take a wife, you may be sure of one thing — I will never hide her away in a little salt-box, as if I were ashamed of my bargain."
For a moment there was a flush on the countenance of Lofton. But his brow quickly grew clear again. He answered —
"We did not marry in order to exhibit ourselves before the world. Such a thing as making a sensation, never entered our thoughts. We married, because we loved each other, and because the relation would bring a nearer and mutual dependence, from which would arise the purest happiness. We married on our own account. We regard ourselves as private citizens; not actors on a social stage. For such things we have no taste, and could not, therefore, derive any pleasure therefrom. Depend upon it, Mark, we shall find a higher satisfaction in living, as we think, wisely and prudently — than you will ever find in flaunting before the world, at a ruinous cost, for which more critical fault-finding than praise will be awarded. Those who seek to maintain appearances beyond their ability, usually do it at a heavy sacrifice. It not only costs money, but character."
"How character, Archie?"
"Society is exceedingly critical, and not over charitable."
"Well?"
"A couple who, at the start in life, maintain, for the mere sake of appearances, a style of living beyond their real ability to support, are noted and censured. Many a young man's prospects have been ruined by the impression such lack of common prudence has made. I have heard people talk, and so have you: in fact, have talked myself, and so have you. It is easy to condemn such things. The part of true wisdom, is to avoid the errors we see in those around us."
"You're a philosopher, Archie," was Pinkerton's reply, uttered in mock gravity. "But I am an every-day man of the world. I cannot profit by your wise sayings and leaden wisdom; which you must excuse me for saying, have a rather musty savor — are rather Poor Richardish, so to speak."
"It would be better for some people, you among the number, Mark," said Lofton, "if they were to gather a little musty wisdom from Poor Richard. It might save them from disappointment, ruin, and heart-ache in the future."
"So I have heard you say before. "Well, twenty years hence, we will compare notes. I cannot but smile as I think of the comparison."
"I hope neither of us will be made sadder thereby," returned Lofton.
"I hope not. But, as I intimated a little while ago, Archie, I've serious thoughts of entering into business."
"Where's your capital? How much have you saved?"
"Capital! Savings! I've half a mind to get downright angry with you. Capital saved from six hundred a year! Did you imagine I thought of opening a Jew's shop in Second Street?"
"O no. But, when a man talks of going into business, it is but natural to inquire how much capital will be at his command."
"If I go into business, I will have capital at command. You may be sure of that," said Pinkerton.
"You will form a co-partnership?"
"Exactly. I've had two or three conversations with a gentleman who has about ten thousand dollars. He is anxious to get into business; and between you and I, thinks the ability of your humble servant ranks number one. Of course I encourage that opinion, as in duty bound."
"Who is the person to whom you refer?"
"I don't think you know him. His name is Ackland."
"A resident of Baltimore?"
"For the past two years."
"Does he know anything of business?"
"He's a first rate book-keeper. Beyond that, his capital is the best part of him. And I'd just as soon it would be so. Whenever I enter into business, I want a controlling influence. I'll find the customers, and see that goods are sold."
"It is well for a man to have a good conceit of himself," Lofton said, with the slightest perceptible sarcasm in his tones.
"I wouldn't give sixpence for a person who had no conceit of himself," was very promptly answered. "If a man doesn't know what is in him, the possession of ability will not avail much towards his advancement in life. I have no faith in your slumbering giants."
"Ten thousand dollars is the amount of cash capital your friend can bring into the business?" said Lofton.
"It is — and, upon that as a basis, almost any amount of business can be done."
"How much?"
"A hundred thousand, if you please."
<p align="justify">Lofton shrugged his shoulders, and bade his friend good day.
"I've really frightened him, said Pinkerton, speaking to himself. "Poor, plodding, penny-wise Lofton! You'll never fill a very large space in the world's observation. Ah, well! All men have their uses. There must be the foundation stones in a building, as well as the heaven-piercing spires. Those who are content to nestle close to mother earth may do so. But I am of another genius."
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