The Inglises Part 33

"Miss Bethia is growing old," whispered David.

"And there is something more the matter with her than she will acknowledge, I am afraid," said Violet.

"It is time to go into the house. The dew is beginning to fall. Come, children," said the mother, rising.

David and Violet came last with Miss Bethia. She smiled, well pleased, when, with boyish gallantry, David offered her his arm.

"I've gone alone all my life," said she, "and now I am most at the end of it. I've taken a great many steps, too, at one time and another, but they don't seem to amount to much to look back upon."

"And you have a good many more to take, I hope," said Violet, hardly knowing how to answer her.

But Miss Bethia shook her head.

"It ain't likely. But the next six months seem longer to look forward to than a great many years do to look back upon. It is all right, anyhow. And, children, if I should never see you again--I want you to remember to consider your mother always. You must never forget her."

"No," said David, wondering a little at her earnestness.

"And, David, and you too, Violet, don't you get to thinking too much about property. It is a good thing to have, I'll allow, but it ain't the best thing by considerable. Some get to love it, by having too much, and some by having too little; but it ain't a satisfying portion any way that it can be fixed, and the love of it makes one forget everything else. And be sure and be good children to your mother, if I shouldn't ever see you again. I don't suppose I need to tell you so; but it's about as good a thing to say for a last word as any, except this--Follow the Lord always, and keep your armour bright."

They answered her gravely and earnestly, as she seemed to expect, but it was with no thought that they were listening to her last words. They would see her, doubtless, many a time again; and they said so to her, as she repeated them in the morning when it was time to go. But Violet never saw her again; David saw her, when she was almost past words, and then she could only, with labouring breath, repeat the very same to him.

It would have been a very sorrowful leave-taking if the children could have known that it was their last "Good-bye" to Miss Bethia. But it never came into the minds of any of them that the next time they saw the pleasant house in Gourlay, she would be sleeping by their father's side in the grave-yard over the hill.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

The next winter pa.s.sed at the bridge house very much as former winters had done. Violet was in her old place at Mr Oswald's. It was much quieter there than it had ever been before, for Selina was spending the winter with her sister, and Mr Philip had gone to a situation in the city of M--, his father hoping that the stricter and more constant attention to his duties, that would be required from him there, would tell better in his business education than irregular work in the office at home could be supposed to do. Frank's eyes were better, but he was not permitted to use them much yet. It was part of Violet's duty to read to him, and a judicious selection of a course of historical reading made the winter pleasant and profitable to both. Jem was at school no longer. There is no royal road to the attainment of knowledge and skill in the profession he had chosen, even when the means and appliances of wealth are at one's disposal; and, having no money, there was nothing for Jem but to work with his hands as well as his head, and so he was adding his quota to the clamour made all day in the great engine-house at the other side of the town. Indeed, he worked a good deal more with his hands than his head for a time, and it needed some persuasion on his mother's part, and the exercise of some authority to keep him, during a reasonable time, every evening at his books.

For Jem was a little unsettled by the new circ.u.mstances in which he found himself. His friendly ways and bright good temper made him popular among his fellow-workmen, and his popularity and his love of fun, together, the more exposed him to the power of temptations inseparable from the place, and but for his mother's kindness and firmness, judiciously mingled, it might have gone ill with Jem that winter. But he settled down after a little, and, with Mr Anstruther's help, devoted himself as zealously as ever to those branches of study absolutely necessary to advancement in the profession of an engineer.

It was rather an anxious winter to Mrs Inglis on Jem's account, but it was, on the whole, a satisfactory winter to look back on, as far as he was concerned.

Affairs were not going on so smoothly in the bank as they used to do.

There were changes there. One clerk was removed to another branch of the concern, and the services of another were dispensed with altogether.

David gained a step or two in consequence, and worked hard in acquiring the knowledge necessary for a right performance of his higher duties.

Mr Oswald was away often, and did not seem to be in good health or spirits when he was at home. In spring, he resigned his office of acting director of the bank, and another was appointed in his place.

Mr Caldwell, who had come into the bank with him, left with him--not because his services were no longer required there, but because Mr Oswald needed him, and he chose to give his services to him.

For there were signs of coming trouble to the Oswalds. It began to be whispered in the town that the affairs of Mr Oswald were not in a prosperous condition, and that the resignation of his position in the bank had not been voluntary on his part, but demanded of him by those who were responsible for the successful carrying on of its affairs. Not that anything had gone wrong as yet, but he was extensively engaged in other business, and had other interests. He had to do with the quarries, and with lumbering affairs, and he had had something to do with the building of a railway, and had not prospered in all these things; and it could not be doubted that trouble was before him.

There had been some anxiety lest David's place in the bank might not be permanent in the midst of so many changes, but no change was made in his case, and except that his work was somewhat different, and that more responsibility rested on him with regard to some matters, all went on as before. He missed Mr Oswald's face in the inner office, and he greatly missed the comings and goings of Mr Caldwell; but all went on in the bank with the same system and order as it had ever done.

But troubles were thickening around the Oswalds. Mrs Mavor was ill and Selina was sent for to be with her. Mr Philip lost his situation in M--, and came home. Rumours had reached David, before this time, that his manner of life had not been satisfactory to his employers or to his friends, and Jem had heard more than David about him. Except to their mother, neither of them had spoken of this, but no one seemed surprised at his return.

Before his return, Mr Oswald had been taken very ill, and his inability to attend to his business involved it in difficulties, which threatened to hasten the unhappy crisis, which even Mr Caldwell acknowledged must have come sooner or later on him. There was trouble in the house, it may well be supposed. Violet had many cares, for Miss Oswald was entirely occupied with her brother in his illness, and Frank devoted himself to his father in a way that was a help and a comfort to them all.

As for Mr Philip, it was very difficult to believe that it could have come to this pa.s.s with his father. It seemed impossible to him that, after so many years of successful business-life, his father should be in danger of being left penniless; and he insisted to Frank and David, and even to Mr Caldwell, that there must have been mismanagement--probably dishonesty--on the part of some of those with whom he held business relations; and that this unhappy illness had been taken advantage of to bring matters to the painful crisis they had reached. So fully was he convinced of this, that it was, with difficulty, he could be prevented from applying to his father to obtain information with regard to certain affairs. But the doctor was imperative as to his not being disturbed by allusions to business now, or for some time to come.

"It might cost his life or his reason, Dr Ward says," repeated Frank.

"And even if he could be spoken to, it would do no good while he is unable to leave his room or even his bed. We must wait patiently. I don't suppose it will make any real difference in the end."

Even Frank knew more about his father's affairs than Philip did.

"If I had only staid in the office, instead of going to M-- last year,"

said he.

"I don't suppose it would have made much difference. You would have known something about the books, perhaps, and papa might not have had to pay out so much money for you. I don't know, though. It is easy enough to spend money anywhere."

Philip walked about impatiently.

"What I have spent is not a drop in the bucket," said he.

But the thought of the money he had spent and the money he owed made him very miserable.

"You know best about that," said Frank. "Here is something that Mr Caldwell left to-day. It is addressed to papa, so he opened it, but he found that it is meant for you. I am very glad papa did not see it."

Philip glanced at the paper his brother put in his hand.

"Have you examined it?" asked he, sharply.

"I looked at the sum total, not at the items."

"Well! a gentleman must spend something on such things, if he is in society."

"If he have it of his own to spend, you mean. I don't see the necessity. I'll venture to say that some of these items did not make you more like a gentleman, but less," said Frank.

"That is for me to decide," said Philip, angrily.

"I don't know that. However, you'll have to consult Mr Caldwell about it--the paying of it, I mean. Though the chances are, he will neither be able nor inclined to help you."

"It is no great affair, anyway."

"The helping you? or the sum total? It is more than half of David Inglis's yearly salary, and Aunt Mary has only that to keep house for them all--at least, she can't have much besides. It depends on how you look at a sum of money, whether it seems large or small."

Philip had no answer ready. He walked about the room angry and miserable. Frank went on:

"If you had not lost your situation, you might have paid it yourself, in time, I suppose. As it is you will have to fail too, or your creditor must make up his mind to wait. Are there more of them?"

Frank asked the question coolly, as though it were a trifling matter they were discussing, and his manner throughout the whole discussion seemed intended, Philip thought, to exasperate him.

"And it is not like Frank, the least in the world," said he to himself, as he uttered an exclamation at his words.

"However," repeated Frank, "it is only a drop in the bucket, as you say."

Philip stood still and looked at him, vexation and astonishment struggling with some other feeling, showing in his face.

"Frank," said he, "it isn't like you to hit a fellow when he is down."