Trial and Triumph CHAPTER 8.
Back to Trial and Triumph
"Curse the girl! She will ruin everything!" muttered Emerson, as he passed along the street with rapid strides, soon after the unexpected encounter with Mary. "I wish she were dead!"
"A fine affair I've made of it by following your advice!" said he, on meeting the friend at whose suggestion he had written the letter of warning to Mrs. Barker.
"What's the matter now?" was inquired. "Didn't it work well?"
"No."
"What kind of a letter did you write?"
"Here is a copy of it. See for yourself."
The friend glanced over the letter, and then said,
"No wonder. It bears on its very face, the stamp of its authorship."
"How so?"
"Were you beside yourself when you spoke of her receiving money from a former lover, who was about uniting himself with the daughter of a respectable citizen? Could you not see, that if the letter came under her eye — she would at once accuse you?"
"I must have been beside myself!" exclaimed Emerson, striking his hands together. "Of all insinuations against her, that is the last I should have made. But what do you think has been the result?"
"Well."
"In calling to see Caroline this morning, I met Mary on the door step. She had come, it appears, according to agreement, to enter upon her duties as governess. I did not knowher, of course, but passed in, she following. Some ten minutes afterwards, as I sat talking with Caroline, Mary suddenly burst into the room, followed by Mrs. Barker. She had my open letter in her hand. Holding it up before me — she demanded if I were the author!"
"What else could you have expected? But, go on."
"I called her a mad girl, and vowed that, until then, I had never seen her."
"Were you believed?"
"Heaven knows."
"Did she repeat the charge?"
"No. She crumpled the letter in her hand, and then rushed from the house."
"Retaining possession of the letter?"
"Yes!"
The friend shook his head, saying as he did so —
"You have everything to fear."
"I know that I have."
"Hadn't you better see her and try to compromise the matter in some way?"
"No. That would be worse than useless. She is a girl with an iron spirit which nothing can bend from its purpose."
"You must silence her in some way, or else give up your claim to the hand of Caroline Barker. That letter, if shown to her father, with such explanations as it is in Mary Lynn's power to give, will completely destroy you in his estimation. He is a stern old fellow, and would see in this, a lack of principle that would be fatal to your expectations."
"I know. But the first step has been so disastrous, that I am in no way inclined to take the second. Mary is the most impracticable girl I ever met. With Caroline Barker, I can do almost anything I please. But Mary Lynn is made of other stuff altogether. I wish I had never known her."
"You are certainly unfortunate in the acquaintance," said the friend.
"Most unfortunate. Confound those pictures! I'm afraid they'll prove a dear bargain in the end."
"The pictures you sold Harding?"
"Yes. I thought five hundred dollars for what cost twenty, and a little business subterfuge, a very fair transaction. But, from present appearances, it bids fair to turn out most disastrously."
"It would hardly do, in the present aspect of your affairs, to miss an alliance which promises so much as this one."
"No, my friend!" replied Emerson, and a cloud fell heavily over his face as he spoke. "Something more than a broken heart would be, I fear, the consequence."
"A broken fortune?"
"There is danger of this, as you know. That copper mine bubble in which I was fool enough to risk so much, has, in bursting, swept from me such large sums of money, that I find myself badly crippled. No later than yesterday, the Merchants' Bank turned down some of my paper; a thing never done before. I was unprepared for this, and it left me, I can assure you, with my hands full to meet payments for the day."
"That wasn't very pleasant."
"You may well say that. Particularly as I had to go on the street and raise some three thousand dollars at one and a half percent, a month."
"Indeed! Were you so hard pressed as that?"
"I was, and no mistake; and I shall be hard pressed until I become the son-in-law of Mr. Barker. Then my credit will stand fair enough."
"I wish the wedding day were tomorrow," remarked the friend, who was on Emerson's paper to a very large amount.
"You can't wish that more ardently than I do. But wishing is of no avail. I must wait, in fear and trembling, the end of this business. Three months is a long period where so much is at stake."
Enough concerning the character and principles of Philip Emerson has been made apparent to the mind of the reader, to satisfy him that Mary Lynn was right in declining his offer of marriage. He was, in heart, a man so given over to selfishness, that it was impossible for him to form an alliance with a right-minded woman, without insuring her unhappiness. All that Mary had heard concerning his lack of integrity, and a great deal more, was true. And it was also true, that he had, in a most heartless spirit, violated the dying injunction of his mother in the matter of his helpless old nurse, who had been left to spend her last days in the almshouse.
Mr. Barker was a man of the strictest honesty and sense of honor. When Emerson made advances towards his daughter, he was far from being pleased; for, in one or two business transactions which had taken place between him and the young man, he saw a spirit that he did not like. Accordingly, he used every means in his power to discourage his attentions, and tried to influence the mind of Caroline. But the young lady was fascinated with the handsome exterior and winning address of Emerson, and so all parental interference with the current of her preferences proved of little avail. In the end, a formal application was made for her hand. To this Mr. Barker did not hesitate to express his disapprobation.
"You are far from being my choice as the husband of my daughter," said the plain spoken father, "and I will not deceive you so much as to conceal this fact. I do not believe that you will make her happy."
Emerson protested the sincerity of his affection, but Mr. Barker was not deceived in the opinion he had formed, that the young man's love for his daughter had another basis than a regard for personal excellencies. A long time passed before Mr. Barker gave a final consent to the marriage. He delayed month after month in the hope that some circumstance, fully developing what he believed to be the real character of the young man, would transpire. But he waited in vain, and, at last, with a reluctance that he did not take much pains to conceal, yielded the long withheld approbation.
By this time, as has been intimated, the affairs of Emerson were considerably embarrassed, owing to his having been drawn aside, in his lust for gain, into certain stock speculation, by which he lost the greater part of all he had made. He was, therefore, the more eager to consummate the alliance with Mr. Barker's family, as that would reinstate his credit, now considerably weakened.
All was going on as pleasantly as he could wish, when he was alarmed by the unexpected appearance in the family of Mary Lynn, and most unwisely sought to prevent her becoming a member thereof. In this, he completely overreached himself, and made his position in every way more dangerous than it would have been, had he not so wickedly sought to injure an innocent young girl, who had too much virtue and decision of character to unite herself in holy marriage with one whose principles she could not approve.
On the day after the occurrence of the briefly passing, yet exciting scene in the parlor of Mr. Barker, that gentleman called to see Emerson. He looked grave.
"You must excuse me, Philip," said he, "but I would like to ask you a few questions about that strange affair of yesterday."
"What affair?" inquired Emerson. As he spoke, the color rose to his face.
"I understand that a young lady, whom my wife engaged as governess, charged upon you the authorship of a letter, making against her disreputable insinuations."
"True. She did."
"Do you know her?"
"Before Heaven, Mr. Barker, I do not!" was unhesitatingly answered. "No one could have been more astonished than myself at the sudden and unexpected charge. Surely the girl was not in her right mind." A denial so unequivocal as this, quieted, if it did not entirely dispel the suspicions which had arisen in the mind of Mr. Barker. Yet, for all this, the subject rested with a weight upon his feelings, and he was troubled about it, in spite of all efforts to dismiss it from his thoughts.
Back to Trial and Triumph