University of Virginia Library

16. CHAPTER XVI.
ANOTHER RICH MERCHANT'S HOUSE.

“I will go straight to Mr. Beckwith's,” thought
Aikin, as he left Finley's; “it is late, to be sure,
but never too late nor too early with him to do a
kind act.” Mr. Beckwith was one of a very rich
firm, who employed Aikin as their carman. He
rung at the door, and was admitted by Jacob, a coloured
man, who had grown gray in Mr. Beckwith's
service.

“Walk in, sir,” said he, civilly, leading the way
to the drawing-room, where Mrs. Beckwith, with
her cloak on, was sitting beside her eldest daughter,
warming her feet, while her two eldest sons
sat at the table drawing. As Aikin entered, Mrs.
Beckwith saluted him civilly, as she would any
other stranger; and, while one of the young men
rose to set a chair for him, she made some courteous
remarks upon the weather and walking; and
then, after Jacob had returned, and said Mr. Beckwith
would be down directly, she resumed the
conversation with her daughter, which Aikin's entrance
had interrupted.

“Did you find Madame Felix very ill, mother?”
asked the young lady.

“Very ill, Susan, and wanting every thing: no
wood, no comforts of any sort. The poor man
has money due to him, but he says he cannot get it.”

“Why didn't he let us know their condition
sooner?”

“Ah, Susan, it's very hard for such a man to
beg.”

“But it should not be called begging, should it,
mother? If, as you and father say, we are all
children of one family, when one wants what another
has to spare, I do not see why the one
should not ask or the other should think it such a
mighty favour to give.”

“You have the right feeling about it, my dear;
but the difficulty is to reconcile the charities of
life with the spirit of independence and self-reliance
which is so necessary to industry and exertion:
but where is Louisa?”

“She is sitting with mammy: her head has been
much worse since you went out, and Louisa will
not leave her.”

“I am glad of it: many a night has mammy sat
by your bedsides, patiently watching over you.
But, Kate,” added the mother, for the first time
espying a child of eight years watching the progress
of her brothers' drawing, “how happens it
you are up yet?”

“Oh, mother, we have had such a funny time,
planning houses!”

“Planning houses! what do you mean?”

An explanation followed, by which it appeared
that Mr. Beckwith contemplated building a block
of houses, to rent to those who could afford to pay
only a low rent. The houses were to contain
every convenience and comfort compatible with a
reasonable per centage on the money invested.
Mr. Beckwith had set his children to drawing

plans for these houses, not so much to test their
skill in draughting as their knowledge of the wants
of the poor, and their zeal for their accommodation.
Kate amused herself with relating the various
failures and successes of the boys—how one
had left out the chimneys and the other the windows—to
all which Aikin listened with eager
interest, notwithstanding the pressing nature of
his business.

Not so much time had passed as has been occupied
in relating this scene, when Mr. Beckwith appeared,
and, after speaking to Aikin, turned to his
wife, saying, “My dear, this is my friend Aikin,
of whom you have often heard me speak.” Mrs.
Beckwith's countenance lighted up with that expression
so common when a person is first introduced
to a stranger for whom favourable impressions
are entertained. Aikin, modest man that he
was, was gratified with this involuntary tribute.
How many opportunities of strengthening the
bonds of human brotherhood by a friendly look, or
a kind word, are passed by and lost for ever!
“Lo! is not a word better than a gift? but both are
with a gracious man.” Aikin communicated his
business to Mr. Beckwith, and without any delay
they were on their way to the police-office, where
Aikin told as much of Paulina's story to Mr.
Justice H— as he deemed necessary for the
purposes of justice; and the said justice being
more moved than was his wont by Aikin's appeal
in Paulina's behalf, and authorized by the assurance
of so substantial a person as Beckwith, of
the great firm of B. B. and Co., in his reliance
on Aikin's testimony; and, moreover, having already

appeased the demands of justice by the
detection and apprehension of the gang associated
with Smith, vouchsafed to assure Aikin that, provided
the black trunk was forthcoming in the morning,
no proceedings should be instituted against
Paulina.

“Good night, Mr. Beckwith,” said Aikin, as he
parted from his friend at the corner of the street—
“I am obliged to you.”

“Oh, no, no, Aikin—I am the person obliged;
for I go to bed the happier for having done you
this service.”

Aikin was a reflecting man—and, as he walked
hurriedly home, eager to relieve Paulina of a part
of her miserable burden, he made many reflections
upon the different scenes he had witnessed that
evening—at his own home—in Paulina's room—
at Morris Finley's—and at Mr. Beckwith's; and
he was confirmed in his previous conclusion, that
riches consist not in the abundance of possessions,
nor poverty in their scantiness; that the mind is
the treasure-house; and, finally, that Paulina,
though poor indeed, was not much poorer than
Morris Finley and his wife.