Nothing but Money! CHAPTER 23.
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The Doctor was not satisfied in regard to the death of Mrs. Guyton; yet there was no evidence of foul play, and he pushed aside the doubtful questions that kept intruding themselves. His certificate, in the usual form; made all plain for the burial, and left no room for suspicion to take any dangerous aspect in the public mind. People talked as they always will talk when there is a shadow of mystery, and many idle stories were whispered around; but, the real truth did not surface.
For a time, Adam Guyton felt a sense of freedom. An obstruction, which had hindered and annoyed him for years, was removed. He was master of the position once more. His will could go forth unquestioned at home, as well as abroad. But, soon, he became aware of a presence in the house that touched his freedom more vitally than it had ever been touched. That presence, though neither demonstrative, nor obtrusive, became more and more palpable as a fixed fact.
The quiet, self-possessed, cold, orderly housekeeper, sat at his table every day, silent for the most part; and moved through his home with a power of conquest that rarely provoked resistance, yet steadily intruded itself, gathering up the reins of government, and preparing to hold its place with a strong hand when the time for throwing off the maskcame.
Adam Guyton was in the power of this woman; and he began to have an unpleasant consciousness that she meant to use the power in some way, to her own advantage. She did not seem to have a will of her own in the family, and yet, Guyton saw new movements going on in the order of things, which no hand but hers directed. Occasionally, she would suggest a change in presence of the children, which brought from them opposition or remonstrance. She did not argue the case, nor show special interest in the matter — but, it usually happened, that Mr. Guyton came over to her side; not because he saw clearly any special value in the changes proposed — but from an indefinable impression of powerthat he did not feel willing to oppose.
Rebellion, however, soon began to lift its head among the children, to whom, during their mother's life-time, the housekeeper had yielded with a skill or passiveness that rarely provoked opposition. Not until she had a firm grasp upon the rein, did Mrs. Harte begin to draw upon it so steadily as to make the pressure felt. The father was in her toils, and she would now reduce the children to obedience. But the task, in this case, was more difficult. She had no command of their fears. There was not in their hearts a fatal secret to which her finger ever pointed in warning. When they looked into her face, they did not see "Beware!" fluttering on her lips.
Henry had always treated her in a half insolent way as if she were inferior and of little account; and usually took pains to give things a direction, if possible, adverse to her wishes. This he was able to do, in consequence of his position as purse-bearer and account-keeper for the family. From this position, Mrs. Harte meant to have him removed; but, she was in no haste. First of all, she must be well-seated. There must be no doubt as to her influence over Mr. Guyton.
"How much do you give Henry for housekeeping purposes?" She put the question one evening when they sat alone together. Mr. Guyton had no intimate acquaintances, and so went out in the evening but rarely. Mrs. Harte had him, therefore, so much in her power; and in the most unobtrusive and unapparent way, managed to interest some of the lonely hours he spent at home.
"Twenty dollars a week," answered Mr. Guyton.
Mrs, Harte looked down at the work in her hands, and remained silent.
"Why do you ask?" After a pause of nearly a minute, Mr. Guyton put this question. He had been waiting all that time for the housekeeper; but she did not seem inclined to any further remark.
"Henry manages things very well for a boy — better, probably, than one boy in a dozen could manage. Still, he is only a boy, and cannot be expected to understand the requirements of a household like this. Twenty dollars a week, if spent with judgment, should go farther than he makes it go."
Mr. Guyton did not answer. He felt a shadow of perplexity coming over his mind.
"It is nothing to me, of course," resumed Mrs. Harte. "I only express a passing thought. Another thing I have observed is this. The position occupied by Henry, puts him in a kind offorced antagonism towards the other children. Between him and John there is a constant feud, growing mainly out of the fact that Henry's will regulates much in the family. He markets to suit his own tastes and whims; and, I observe, takes pains to omit buying the very articles for which John and Lydia manifest a preference. If it goes on, a permanent alienation between him and the other children, as they grow up, will assuredly take place; and, of all things, this should be guarded against as the worst of evils."
"Is that so? Does Henry really annoy his brothers and sisters in the way you intimate?" said Mr. Guyton.
"Have they never complained?" asked Mrs. Harte.
"O yes. They're always complaining. But I'm used to that, and pay little heed to what they say."
"They have cause." The housekeeper's voice had a shade more of feeling. After a moment she added,
"One child in a family should not have as much power over the other children as Henry now possesses. He does not know how to rule wisely; and they live daily in a state ofangry rebellion against him. Besides, sir, the boy's mind should be educated towards a man's duties in life, and not towards a woman's. You should design him for regular business — for a merchant, like yourself — not a boarding-house keeper. His present office at home is not, therefore, good for him. It will belittle his mind — narrow it down to the smallest things — incapacitate him for the larger sphere in which you look to see him move. But, excuse me, sir, for this freedom of speech. I have been led to say more than I intended."
"There is reason in what you urge," returned Mr. Guyton, "and I must think it over. Henry is a little inclined to be overbearing, I know; but, as affairs have been, I could do no better than place things in his hands; and, all circumstances considered, it seems to me that he has managed admirably. Not one boy in ten would have done so well."
"Probably not one in a hundred," answered Mrs. Harte.
And there the conversation dropped. But Mr. Guyton understood his housekeeper. She was not satisfied to remain any longer subject to the will and direction of a boy. He must pass out of her way.
Mr. Guyton did not act immediately on the suggestion of Mrs. Harte. Too much was involved in this. It included the fact of a new disbursing agent in the household, and that agent the lady herself. Would it be wise to admit her to this place of power? Over, and over, and over again the question was revolved, and yet without decision. In the meantime, Mrs. Harte, from behind the screen of an unimpassioned exterior, watched, eagle-eyed, the progress of things, drawing all the while a little and a little more firmly, on the reins of government that were in her hands.
"Henry," said she, one morning, as the boy passed her in the hall. She knew that it was market day.
He stopped, turning his head partly towards her, with an air of indifference.
"Are you going to market?"
"Yes."
"I wish you would get a pair of chickens for today's dinner."
"I shall get corned beef;" was almost insolently answered.
"Oh, very well." And Mrs. Harte turned from him in her calm, quiet way. An observer would have detected no indication of a quicker heart-throb.
At dinner time, Mrs. Harte said, speaking across the table to Mr. Guyton —
"I asked Henry to get a pair of chickens for dinner today — but he refused." Her tones were cold and even.
Mr. Guyton turned his eyes on Henry, whose face colored a little.
"Why didn't you do as Mrs. Harte desired?" The boy was not prepared for the sternness with which this question was asked, and stammered out an unsatisfactory reply.
"Don't let it occur again!" Mr. Guyton spoke in earnest.
No more was said at the time; but the spirit destined to rule in that house had gained a victory, and soon everyone had an impression of the fact. It took only a week or two from this time for Mrs. Harte to bring Henry to the position of a mere agent of her will in the household administration. He bought as she gave direction, being little more than purse-bearer. There were no contentions between him and Mrs. Harte. If he rebelled, and was insolent, she did not stoop to his level — but, with subtle management, turned his father's iron hand upon him. In six months after the death of Mrs. Guyton, the housekeeper's will was supreme in the family — where wife and mother had been thrust aside, and held as of no account!
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