Hope Mills by Amanda Minnie Douglas (digital ebook reader .txt) 📖

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A quick step came down the street. "If Maverick wasn't in Rhode Island!" thought Jack; then it came nearer, with a little halt, and Jack sprang down the steps in the moonlight.

"Hillo, old fellow!" said the rich, laughing voice. "Have you looked after my patients, and entertained my office-callers, in my absence? That would only be fair play, for I have been about your business; and, by Jove! succeeded too!"

"Maverick!" There was an odd little tremble in Jack's voice.

"Ask me to sit down, and stay me with--well, a pipe, for I have finished my last cigar. I came in the train just fifteen minutes ago, and skulked--that's the very word--under the trees and through by-ways, lest some one, seeing, should lay violent hands on me. Yes, get out your best armchair, old chap, and treat me like a prince."

The two seated themselves again, and stretched out their legs to the porch-railing. The soft light fell around, outlining here and there a bit of vine as if it were held against a silver background. A few early insects were chirping, and somewhere down the street there was a waft of distant music.

"Succeeded!" Jack drew a long breath.

"Yes: with a woman too. Nay, you need not look at me so wonderingly. I have not sold myself for base gold to the Evil One," laughing lightly. "I have never told you much about myself; for, like the needy knife-grinder, 'story, God bless you! there was none to tell;' but there is a chapter now, and you must hear it first. My mother was left an orphan in her infancy, and her aunt adopted her. She was a canny Scotswoman, by name Jean McLeod. She was very good to my mother, who married quite to her liking, although my father was not rich, but we always lived in a certain style, and my father had a fine reputation as a lawyer. My mother's death, the result of an accident, so prostrated him, that he never recovered from the shock. Aunt McLeod came to stay with us through that weary time. Then she took us both to her heart and home: it was a large warm heart and a beautiful home. My father left a little: it was made over to me; and my sister, five years younger than I, was brought up properly, and married properly, and lives in Chicago in elegant style. Then Aunt Jean tried her hand on me, chose a suitable young woman, and insisted that the fates had decided it. The upshot was a quarrel. Not but what the girl was nice enough, and all that, but I did not care to marry; and so I walked off to Europe, and was there three years. Some rather cool letters passed between us at first, but they grew warmer; and when I returned it was winter, and she was in New York. I went straight up to her house. She was very glad to see me; and there in her lovely library, all glow and softness and perfume, by the side of the grate, with a screen in her hand, sat Anastasia Lothrop. She is Aunt Jean's pet _protegee_, though she has home and lands and people of her own. A handsome woman too, by Jove! However, we have gone our separate ways. I think she (Aunt Jean) was rather annoyed at my settling at Yerbury.

"Well, I went to Narragansett, and found her alone this time; and she has promised to buy Hope Mills. I do believe there's no end to the woman's money. She talked it over as a mere bagatelle. I am to meet her in New York, and you are to go down, Jack; and we are to see the holder of the mortgage, and do no end of business. I think she is rather interested in the scheme, and I do believe she is delighted to do me a favor. Now you can keep your money for a kind of reserve fund. The mere savings of labor will not answer at first, you know."

Maverick drew a long breath then, and puffed lustily at his cigar.

"I don't know how ever to thank you."

"Don't thank me, Darcy. You see, I am interested in this experiment. I want to see if there is enough faith and honesty and industry and trustfulness left in the world to make such a general partnership a success. You know it has been said that since the war our character as a whole has degenerated fearfully. Politically there is no doubt of it. Commercially and industrially are still open questions. If we could succeed in making one hundred people comfortable, instead of one rich, nine comfortable, and the other ninety next door to pauperism, we shall have done something. If we can so educate ninety men that they are able to understand the difficulties and embarrassments of carrying on business and its numerous fluctuations, we shall have raised them higher in the social scale. And it is most sadly true of all the large failures of late, some one has been dishonest, some one or two or three have taken other people's money to speculate with. It should be called stealing as much as when a poor man takes it, even if he spends it for rum. And, Darcy, we will keep our eye single upon one thing: we shall not move the world, or convert it, but haply one little corner of Yerbury; while all the wit and wisdom the world has been saving up for ages will be hurled against us in different shapes, from puffy snowballs to the grim old fellows soaked in water and frozen hard. And sometimes I think, with all the energy you are going to bring to bear upon this, you could carve out a fortune somewhere else."

"I don't know as to that, Maverick," said Darcy in a half-funny, half-sad tone. "From New York to St. Louis, from thence to New Orleans, to Florida, and back here again, I never found an opening. Two or three people did promise to write to me, but they have not. I felt the world could go on quite as well without me and hundreds of others. So, then, the only thing is to create a place; and Heaven knows I shall try hard enough to make a success of this."

"And you will do it too: I'm not afraid. Give us your hand, old chap! I never swore friendship with but just one fellow: that was in my college days, and I have his note for one hundred dollars as a memento. I might have been keener, I dare say; but one of the transcendentally lovely things of youth is its perfect faith. These preternaturally wise and prudent young people come into the world mentally gray-headed. But I do it now with my eyes wide open; and, when you are a rich man, I have another scheme I want to take through, a sort of home or hospital of my own planning: so don't fancy I shall let you off easy."

They held each other's hands in a long, lingering clasp. Beside the warmth and magnetism that was a component part of Dr. Maverick's nature when he chose to use it, which was not nearly always, there was a steadfast kindliness, the vigor of a true and pure manhood, that made a clear atmosphere about him, in which insincerity, weakness, and selfishness seemed to flicker into pale shadows, and shrink away from the intense mental light he turned upon them.

And just here the vision of the boy face came back to Jack, the strangling arms about his neck, the fluttering breath and quivering lips, and the sound of the rather thin, childish voice,--"You are _my_ King Arthur, and I shall love you my whole life long."

The sadness in the smile was for the old ideal.


CHAPTER XIII.

"THE telegram!" exclaimed Maverick ten days later, striding down the garden where Jack was at work in the strawberry-bed.

Jack Darcy flushed like a girl, through the other fine coloring of labor. He had hardly dared to believe in and hold to Maverick's promise. Manlike, neither had spoken of it since that night.

"'Thursday, at four, at the Westminster.' That is to-morrow. We must be on time, or she would never have any faith in us; and, though my credit may be _nil_, yours must be"--

"As I hope to keep it through my life," was the grave reply. "You will take the morning train?"

"Yes. It will give us a trifle of spare time, which won't be bad for a couple of overworked fellows like us. But I must look after a lot of people this afternoon, and if I can I will drop in this evening."

Jack went back to his strawberries. He had been making a mental calculation about an acre, and the profits thereon, moved to it by something Jane Morgan had said. Twenty miles below them, on Swanston Bay, which was quite a summer-resort, the hotel-keepers had paid twenty-five cents per quart for nice large berries. On their little patch they had raised a hundred and twenty quarts. There was another side to the labor-question,--diversity of industry. Jane's idea of a great fruit-garden, or call it a farm, was not bad. You could crowd ten such patches in an acre of ground. If nothing better came to hand, he might hire some of the ground lying waste around Yerbury, and set the idle at work.

Sylvie came through with some flowers in her hand. Jack looked up again, and laughed, and threw himself on the grass under a tree, chatting gayly. He felt so light at heart! She wondered a little, and then, without knowing the cause, rejoiced with him in the depths of her soul.

The two men started the next morning, and at the appointed time were ushered into Miss McLeod's private parlor. Maverick had said, "She's a little queer in some ways; but in the main you will like her, I think." Meanwhile Jack had formed a dozen ideals of her, based mostly on the personal appearance of Miss Barry and his grandmother.

The door of the adjoining room opened, and Miss McLeod entered. An old woman, of course, and a fashionable woman, but with a young-old face and figure. Not the graceful airiness of youth, so often painful in its desire to impress the beholder with what it is not, but an old age to which all the good things of life, rightly used, have contributed, and brought about a delightful result. She was of medium height, and possibly had not been handsome in her palmy days; but she challenged one's respect for a true and honorable womanhood, and an old age neither inane, querulous, nor servile.

A rather plump figure, with deep chest, full shoulders, and erect carriage. The face was wrinkled; but the skin had a peachy softness, the lips were still full and finely curved, and, though the mouth was rather wide, it indicated resolution and decision. The whole contour of the face was slightly aquiline, the forehead high and broad, but the curling hair falling over it in the requirements of fashion softened it; shining silvery white, curling naturally, and very abundant, the coil at the back partly covered with a diamond-shaped bit of elegant black thread lace that matched the barb at her throat. Her rich, soft, steel-colored silk made no rustle as she crossed the floor, but the diamonds in her ears and on her breast flashed a glitter of sunlight about her.

Maverick greeted her with pleasant but not effusive warmth, and introduced his friend. They skirmished on the boundary-line of small talk for a while,