"I know! he was a farmer," said Ben.
"Now, Ben, he was a Roman—let me tell," said Letty, using her elbowcontentiously.
"You silly thing, he was a Roman farmer, and he was ploughing."
"Yes, but before that—that didn't come first—people wanted him,"said Letty.
"Well, but you must say what sort of a man he was first," insistedBen. "He was a wise man, like my father, and that made the people wanthis advice. And he was a brave man, and could fight. And so could myfather—couldn't he, mother?"
"Now, Ben, let me tell the story straight on, as mother told it us,"said Letty, frowning. "Please, mother, tell Ben not to speak."
"Letty, I am ashamed of you," said her mother, wringing out the capsfrom the tub. "When your brother began, you ought to have waited to seeif he could not tell the story. How rude you look, pushing and frowning,as if you wanted to conquer with your elbows! Cincinnatus, I am sure,would have been sorry to see his daughter behave so." (Mrs. Garthdelivered this awful sentence with much majesty of enunciation, andLetty felt that between repressed volubility and general disesteem, thatof the Romans inclusive, life was already a painful affair.) "Now, Ben."
"Well—oh—well—why, there was a great deal of fighting, and theywere all blockheads, and—I can't tell it just how you told it—but theywanted a man to be captain and king and everything—"
"Dictator, now," said Letty, with injured looks, and not without awish to make her mother repent.
"Very well, dictator!" said Ben, contemptuously. "But that isn't a goodword: he didn't tell them to write on slates."
"Come, come, Ben, you are not so ignorant as that," said Mrs. Garth,carefully serious. "Hark, there is a knock at the door! Run, Letty, andopen it."
The knock was Fred's; and when Letty said that her father was not inyet, but that her mother was in the kitchen, Fred had no alternative. Hecould not depart from his usual practice of going to see Mrs. Garth inthe kitchen if she happened to be at work there. He put his arm roundLetty's neck silently, and led her into the kitchen without his usual jokesand caresses.
Mrs. Garth was surprised to see Fred at this hour, but surprise wasnot a feeling that she was given to express, and she only said, quietlycontinuing her work—
"You, Fred, so early in the day? You look quite pale. Has anythinghappened?"
"I want to speak to Mr. Garth," said Fred, not yet ready to saymore—"and to you also," he added, after a little pause, for he had nodoubt that Mrs. Garth knew everything about the bill, and he must inthe end speak of it before her, if not to her solely.
"Caleb will be in again in a few minutes," said Mrs. Garth, whoimagined some trouble between Fred and his father. "He is sure not to belong, because he has some work at his desk that must be done thismorning. Do you mind staying with me, while I finish my matters here?"
"But we needn't go on about Cincinnatus, need we?" said Ben, whohad taken Fred's whip out of his hand, and was trying its efficiency onthe cat.
"No, go out now. But put that whip down. How very mean of you towhip poor old Tortoise! Pray take the whip from him, Fred."
"Come, old boy, give it me," said Fred, putting out his hand.
"Will you let me ride on your horse to-day?" said Ben, rendering upthe whip, with an air of not being obliged to do it.
"Not to-day—another time. I am not riding my own horse."
"Shall you see Mary to-day?"
"Yes, I think so," said Fred, with an unpleasant twinge.
"Tell her to come home soon, and play at forfeits, and make fun."
"Enough, enough, Ben! run away," said Mrs. Garth, seeing that Fredwas teased. . .
"Are Letty and Ben your only pupils now, Mrs. Garth?" said Fred,when the children were gone and it was needful to say something thatwould pass the time. He was not yet sure whether he should wait for Mr.Garth, or use any good opportunity in conversation to confess to Mrs.Garth herself, give her the money and ride away.
"One—only one. Fanny Hackbutt comes at half past eleven. I am notgetting a great income now," said Mrs. Garth, smiling. "I am at a low ebbwith pupils. But I have saved my little purse for Alfred's premium: I haveninety-two pounds. He can go to Mr. Hanmer's now; he is just at theright age."
This did not lead well towards the news that Mr. Garth was on thebrink of losing ninety-two pounds and more. Fred was silent. "Younggentlemen who go to college are rather more costly than that," Mrs.Garth innocently continued, pulling out the edging on a cap-border. "AndCaleb thinks that Alfred will turn out a distinguished engineer: he wantsto give the boy a good chance. There he is! I hear him coming in. We willgo to him in the parlor, shall we?"
When they entered the parlor Caleb had thrown down his hat andwas seated at his desk.
"What! Fred, my boy!" he said, in a tone of mild surprise, holding hispen still undipped; "you are here betimes." But missing the usualexpression of cheerful greeting in Fred's face, he immediately added, "Isthere anything up at home?—anything the matter?"
"Yes, Mr. Garth, I am come to tell something that I am afraid willgive you a bad opinion of me. I am come to tell you and Mrs. Garth thatI can't keep my word. I can't find the money to meet the bill after all. Ihave been unfortunate; I have only got these fifty pounds towards thehundred and sixty."
While Fred was speaking, he had taken out the notes and laid themon the desk before Mr. Garth. He had burst forth at once with the plainfact, feeling boyishly miserable and without verbal resources. Mrs. Garthwas mutely astonished, and looked at her husband for an explanation.Caleb blushed, and after a little pause said—
"Oh, I didn't tell you, Susan: I put my name to a bill for Fred; it wasfor a hundred and sixty pounds. He made sure he could meet it himself."
There was an evident change in Mrs. Garth's face, but it was like achange below the surface of water which remains smooth. She fixed hereyes on Fred, saying—
"I suppose you have asked your father for the rest of the money andhe has refused you."
"No," said Fred, biting his lip, and speaking with more difficulty; "butI know it will be of no use to ask him; and unless it were of use, I shouldnot like to mention Mr. Garth's name in the matter."
"It has come at an unfortunate time," said Caleb, in his hesitatingway, looking down at the notes and nervously fingering the paper,"Christmas upon us—I'm rather hard up just now. You see, I have to cutout everything like a tailor with short measure. What can we do, Susan?I shall want every farthing we have in the bank. It's a hundred and tenpounds, the deuce take it!"
"I must give you the ninety-two pounds that I have put by forAlfred's premium," said Mrs. Garth, gravely and decisively, though a niceear might have discerned a slight tremor in some of the words. "And Ihave no doubt that Mary has twenty pounds saved from her salary bythis time. She will advance it."
Mrs. Garth had not again looked at Fred, and was not in the leastcalculating what words she should use to cut him the most effectively.Like the eccentric woman she was, she was at present absorbed inconsidering what was to be done, and did not fancy that the end couldbe better achieved by bitter remarks or explosions. But she had madeFred feel for the first time something like the tooth of remorse. Curiouslyenough, his pain in the affair beforehand had consisted almost entirely inthe sense that he must seem dishonorable, and sink in the opinion of theGarths: he had not occupied himself with the inconvenience and possibleinjury that his breach might occasion them, for this exercise of theimagination on other people's needs is not common with hopeful younggentlemen. Indeed we are most of us brought up in the notion that thehighest motive for not doing a wrong is something irrespective of thebeings who would suffer the wrong. But at this moment he suddenly sawhimself as a pitiful rascal who was robbing two women of their savings.
"I shall certainly pay it all, Mrs. Garth—ultimately," he stammeredout.
"Yes, ultimately," said Mrs. Garth, who having a special dislike tofine words on ugly occasions, could not now repress an epigram. "Butboys cannot well be apprenticed ultimately: they should be apprenticedat fifteen." She had never been so little inclined to make excuses forFred.
"I was the most in the wrong, Susan," said Caleb. "Fred made sure offinding the money. But I'd no business to be fingering bills. I supposeyou have looked all round and tried all honest means?" he added, fixinghis merciful gray eyes on Fred. Caleb was too delicate, to specify Mr.Featherstone.
"Yes, I have tried everything—I really have. I should have had ahundred and thirty pounds ready but for a misfortune with a horsewhich I was about to sell. My uncle had given me eighty pounds, and Ipaid away thirty with my old horse in order to get another which I wasgoing to sell for eighty or more—I meant to go without a horse—but nowit has turned out vicious and lamed itself. I wish I and the horses toohad been at the devil, before I had brought this on you. There's no oneelse I care so much for: you and Mrs. Garth have always been so kind tome. However, it's no use saying that. You will always think me a rascalnow."
Fred turned round and hurried out of the room, conscious that hewas getting rather womanish, and feeling confusedly that his being sorrywas not of much use to the Garths. They could see him mount, andquickly pass through the gate.
"I am disappointed in Fred Vincy," said Mrs. Garth. "I would nothave believed beforehand that he would have drawn you into his debts. Iknew he was extravagant, but I did not think that he would be so meanas to hang his risks on his oldest friend, who could the least afford tolose."
"I was a fool, Susan:"
"That you were," said the wife, nodding and smiling. "But I shouldnot have gone to publish it in the market-place. Why should you keepsuch things from me? It is just so with your buttons: you let them burstoff without telling me, and go out with your wristband hanging. If I hadonly known I might have been ready with some better plan."
"You are sadly cut up, I know, Susan," said Caleb, looking feelinglyat her. "I can't abide your losing the money you've scraped together forAlfred."
"It is very well that I had scraped it together; and it is you who willhave to suffer, for you must teach the boy yourself. You must give upyour bad habits. Some men take to drinking, and you have taken toworking without pay. You must indulge yourself a little less in that. Andyou must ride over to Mary, and ask the child what money she has."
Caleb had pushed his chair back, and was leaning forward, shakinghis head slowly, and fitting his finger-tips together with much nicety.
"Poor Mary!" he said. "Susan," he went on in a lowered tone, "I'mafraid she may be fond of Fred."
"Oh no! She always laughs at him; and he is not likely to think of herin any other than a brotherly way."
Caleb made no rejoinder, but presently lowered his spectacles, drewup his chair to the desk, and said, "Deuce take the bill—I wish it was atHanover! These things are a sad interruption to business!"
The first part of this speech comprised his whole store of maledictoryexpression, and was uttered with a slight snarl easy to imagine. But itwould be difficult to convey to those who never heard him utter theword "business," the peculiar tone of fervid veneration, of religiousregard, in which he wrapped it, as a consecrated symbol is wrapped inits gold-fringed linen.
Caleb Garth often shook his head in meditation on the value, theindispensable might of that myriad-headed, myriad-handed labor bywhich the social body is fed, clothed, and housed. It had laid hold of hisimagination in boyhood. The echoes of the great hammer where roof orkeel were a-making, the signal-shouts of the workmen, the roar of thefurnace, the thunder and plash of the engine, were a sublime music tohim; the felling and lading of timber, and the huge trunk vibrating star-like in the distance along the highway, the crane at work on the wharf,the piled-up produce in warehouses, the precision and variety ofmuscular effort wherever exact work had to be turned out,—all thesesights of his youth had acted on him as poetry without the aid of thepoets, had made a philosophy for him without the aid of philosophers, areligion without the aid of theology. His early ambition had been to haveas effective a share as possible in this sublime labor, which waspeculiarly dignified by him with the name of "business;" and though hehad only been a short time under a surveyor, and had been chiefly hisown teacher, he knew more of land, building, and mining than most ofthe special men in the county.
His classification of human employments was rather crude, and, likethe categories of more celebrated men, would not be acceptable in theseadvanced times. He divided them into "business, politics, preaching,learning, and amusement." He had nothing to say against the last four;but he regarded them as a reverential pagan regarded other gods than hisown. In the same way, he thought very well of all ranks, but he wouldnot himself have liked to be of any rank in which he had not such closecontact with "business" as to get often honorably decorated with marksof dust and mortar, the damp of the engine, or the sweet soil of thewoods and fields. Though he had never regarded himself as other thanan orthodox Christian, and would argue on prevenient grace if thesubject were proposed to him, I think his virtual divinities were goodpractical schemes, accurate work, and the faithful completion ofundertakings: his prince of darkness was a slack workman. But there wasno spirit of denial in Caleb, and the world seemed so wondrous to himthat he was ready to accept any number of systems, like any number offirmaments, if they did not obviously interfere with the best land-drainage, solid building, correct measuring, and judicious boring (forcoal). In fact, he had a reverential soul with a strong practicalintelligence. But he could not manage finance: he knew values well, buthe had no keenness of imagination for monetary results in the shape ofprofit and loss: and having ascertained this to his cost, he determined togive up all forms of his beloved "business" which required that talent. Hegave himself up entirely to the many kinds of work which he could dowithout handling capital, and was one of those precious men within hisown district whom everybody would choose to work for them, becausehe did his work well, charged very little, and often declined to charge atall. It is no wonder, then, that the Garths were poor, and "lived in asmall way." However, they did not mind it.
