 | CHAPTER XI. Ellen Hart |  |
11. CHAPTER XI.
We are now bringing this story to that crisis
of events towards which it has been gradually
tending from the first moment Henry
Hart began to depart from the ways of integrity
and uprightness.
It was the afternoon of the day on which
Mrs. Hart had received the visits of the administrators.
The widow and Ellen, having
yielded to the first shock of grief, were now
more composed; and were calmly, though
with tears in their eyes, talking over their
gloomly prospects. Ellen was trying to be
calm to compose her mother; the mother endeavoring
to set an example of resignation to
the child. Tommy and Grace, after their return
from school at noon, had been sent again
after their frugal dinner, their hearts free from
the weight that oppressed their mother and
sister, who refrained from informing them of
the sad change that had befallen them all.
`What shall we do, dear mother?' said Ellen
after a few moments thoughtful silence,
previous to which, every possible resource was
called up and discussed without the prospect
of giving them relief. What indeed should
they do? Prejudice would be against the forger's
widow, and they dared not appeal to any
who had known Mr. Hart. To whom then
could they apply? Their mode of life the last
two years had been very retired; and Mrs.
Hart had sought no intimacies. She knew
none but the humble neighbors about her.
`You ask a question, my sweet child, that
God alone can answer,' answered the widow.
`These administrators may think they are
doing right, but right is not righteousness.—
We are indeed wretched, Ellen. But let us
not despair. We have a prospect of going to
the almshouse, for there is nothing left to us!
no house open to us!' She covered her face
and wept.
`God is in the alms-house, dear mother!'
and kissing her forehead as she sat.
`Bless you, my child! That word has
strengthened me! He is in the alms-house!
and let us not forget it. I am cheerful again!
Let us not fear, `for the widow and orphan
are mine,' saith the Lord.'
At that moment the door opened and Tommy
and Grace came in from school. Grace was
weeping, and she had her gown torn, and her
face was flushed; and Tommy's cheek was
bleeding, and his hand blood-stained; while
his features wore a very determined look of
defiance.
`What is the matter? What new evil has
befallen me in my children?' cried the mother,
running first to Grace and then drawing Tommy
to her. Are you hurt?'
`I have been fighting,' said Tommy.
`And I helping him, because the big boy
was whipping him,' answered Grace.
`Henry Talbot, because I got above him in
the class, got angry and after school told me
my father was hanged for forgery. I told him
he lied: and then he struck me and we fought,
and I whipped him: then another boy said I
was a gallows-bird, and I struck him; and as
he was twice as big as I am, he would have
whipped me, as he got me down, if Grace
had'nt helped me out by pulling me his
hair! Didn't I do right, dear mother? To
call my father a forger and say he was hung,'
cried the excited, manly little fellow, from
whom Mrs. Hart had carefully guarded from
them the secret which would cast disgrace
upon her offspring.
Mrs. Hart made no reply. She gazed from
one to the other and then sunk into her chair.
exclaiming with anguish unspeakable,
`Oh God, oh God! This is more than thy
servant can bear! Oh Ellen, that the dear
children had been spared this fearful knowledge!
My heart will break!'
`Mother, this is indeed bitterness! But all
is rightly ordered. I feel as certain a trust in
God as I do in you—nay stronger, for I know
he can do what you cannot do! If you knew
with what filial child-like confidence my heart
is constantly going up to Him, knowing He
will make all things work for our good, you
would be as calm as I am! Do you suppose
He does not see at this moment! you seated
weeping in your chair, I kneeling by your side,
Tommy and Grace standing there with the
signs of their recent contest fresh upon them,
and knows not all has caused our sorrow?—
Does he not know from the beginning each
event, and does he not know we are innocent,
though, alas, my poor father may have been
guilty! And will he suffer the innocent to
perish? No! Be assured that out of this
seeming evil of our lot He is preparing a good
for us.'
`You are a comforter, indeed, dear Ellen!'
said Mrs. Hart, removing the blood for Tommy's
cheek. `I will at least imitate your
faith and fortitude, if I cannot possess them.
Ah, there is another knock? I start as if I
were a guilty thing. Yet I am only poor.
`There is no guilt in poverty. The poor
who trust in God are rich; for `the gold and
the silver,' He says `are His. I will open
the door.'
`It is, I fear, the officers!'
`Are we not prepared for them, dear mother,
whenever they come! Let us not forget
God is with us and will stand at our right
hand though the officers stand before us.'
The visiter was a short man with a light
complexion, whity yellow hair, bushy eye-brows,
small, thin mouth, scanty half-whiskers,
pink edged eyes, and a pink cravat, and
a striped pink and green vest; enormous ears;
hair cropped short; black teeth and nails; and
a very fashionable buckish white hat, green
coat and drab pantaloons. He sported a huge
cameo breast-pin of Napoleon's head, and a
huge seal ring on his little finger, which he
kept ungloved to display.
As Ellen opened the door he bowed, simpered
and said,
`Ah, Miss Ellen how do you do?' He extended
his hand to take hers, but she drew
back and politely, but gravely said,
`How do you do, Mr. Creech?'
Be it here observed that Creech had been
so successful as to turn aside from himself
all suspicion in the public mind of being a party
to the forgeries of his partner Henry Hart;
but Dr. Elmore had suspected him, and also
one or two others. But nothing was said to
lead to any investigations of his conduct. He,
however, informed Mrs. Hart that he suspected
Mr. Creech had been the prime mover in the
forgeries; and that if Mr. Hart had lived the
trial would have revealed this to have been the
fact. Creech, after the excitement had a little
subsided, and the affairs of the Firm were
from the general wreck into a retail dry-goods
store in Hanover street, and began soon to
make a noise with flashy, puffy advertisements
in the newspapers. `Creech's, No. —
Hanover street,' with `Great Bargains,
selling lower than First Cost,' &c., &c., met
the eye in all the Dailies. He kept his buggy
and boarded at a stylish Hotel. Occasionally
he had seen Mrs. Hart in the street, but
he had forgotten her quite! But he hadn't
forgotten Ellen! He had his intentions turned
towards the young and blooming girl even
when he was the partner of her father, and
hoped one day by gaining her hand to get a
position into the society to which, neither by
birth, education, nor manners, he well knew
he had no pretensions. Often since her father's
fall he had passed her in the street and
bowed; but she never recognized him; for
she had been told by her mother that her father
would not have been so erring a man if it
had not been for Mr. Creech. The young
and innocent heart of the child therefore instinctively
revolted at the sight of the man.
A few weeks before Dr. Elmore's death
Creech met her, by accident, walking with
him, and a certain design he had formed of
calling on Mrs. Hart to cultivate the acquaintance
of the beautiful Ellen: was promptly
given up by him; for Creech had a great dislike
to any thing like an encounter, or chance
of an encounter, with Dr. Elmore, and he
was not ignorant that the family of his partner
was under his benevolent protection. We
shall let Mr. Creech now explain for himself
the reason of his present appearance.
`Is your mother at home, Miss Ellen?' he
asked, smiling as if to conceal his chagrin at
the coldness of his reception; and gazing upon
her with impertinent admiration.
`She is, sir.'
`I will step in and see her, if you please.'
Ellen returned hastily to her mother and
mentioned Mr. Creech's name. She had
hardly done so before the Junior Partner followed
her into the room. Mrs. Hart received
him as civilly as was in her power, yet with a
sinking of the spirit, for his presence seemed
to be the forerunner of some new evil.
`Sorry to hear the news, Mrs. Hart! Called
down to see what I could do in the premises,'
said the junior partner, taking a chair for him
self, while Ellen and Mrs. Hart stood. `I met
Mr. Straitpurse, and he told me how my late
partner's widow was circumstanced, said he
was very sorry, but it was all in the way of
business. And men `in the way of business,'
Mrs. Hart, you know have no knowledge of
friends! Straitpurse seemed very sorry, but
couldn't be helped. I am sorry too, I assure
you, marm! I came down soon as I could, to
see what I could do for you!'
`Thank you, Mr. Creech, you are very
kind,' said the widow gratefully! for Creech
really spoke and seemed very kind and friendly;
and she needed friendly words, poor woman.
They opened her heart at once.
`Not at all! I don't forget the widow and
orphans of my old partner, if he did commit a
slip of the pen! Accidents will happen to
the best of men, Mrs. Hart; and the Junior
Partner looked and seemed as if he thought in
the course of human affairs such an accident
might happen to him. `I called to see if you
are really so bad off as Straitpurse said?' and
he looked round the room, and then at them,
inquiringly.
`Yes, Mr. Creech. I don't know that I
have any thing. This house and furniture
are the bounty of Dr. Elmore. What few articles
I could otherwise call my own, I am
forbid to remove, as they are to be taken for
rent!'
Very, very sad affair,' said the Junior Partner
shaking slowly his head, and glancing
wistfully under his shaggy eyebrows at the
beautiful Ellen. `I would be happy to serve
you, if I could marm! But I am not very
rich! I am, however, doing a little in the
money making way! You've doubtless heard
of Creech's store, No. — Hanover street! I
can't say I'm rich; but then a friend's widow
shall not suffer.'
Mrs. Hart remembered her children, and
her utter destitution, and forgot all her prejudices
against Creech. Besides, he seemed to
feel so much.
`You are very good, Mr. Creech.
`Don't thank me, marm! I like to do
good without letting myself know it, if I
could do so! I can't bear thanks! So you
have no home?' he said with a sort of secret
exultation.
`No, sir; indeed, I have no home after we
leave this.'
`Nor no friends?'
`None but tho friend of the widow and the
fatherless!' she said with a glance of holy
faith upward.
`Humph!' ejaculated Creech; for he had
little christian faith himself; and would not
have lent the Lord a dollar by giving it to a
poor man. `This is bad, very bad, marm!
And you have no money?'
`But a couple of dollars, and seven due
Ellen by her scholars!'
`Very bad, indeed.'
Mr. Creech then looked down and was
very thoughtful; while mother and daughter
watched his features with anxiety, yet with
a want of perfect confidence in the man.—
But to whom else should they look. What
other means of relief had they? And God
they knew worked by means. Might not
Mr. Creech be his instrument? Patiently
and nervously they waited the issue of his
meditations. At length he looked up and
smiling upon Ellen said,
`It mustn't be, Miss Ellen, that so lovely
a girl as you are should be turned into the
street! I always had a regard for you, when
you was a child! I will now prove it to you
and your mother! I have a small comfortable
tenement which I had furnished for myself
a few weeks ago to keep bachelor's hall
in—for you know I am not a married man
yet, Mrs. Hart. This has three rooms, one
furnished as a parlor, one as a bed-room, and
the other as a kitchen. Now I am willing to
go back to the hotel and board, and give my
rooms up to you Mrs. Hart until you can do
better. It is only two squares from here and
you can move what you want from here over
there at any time. I will send a hand-cart
for your things. Now, don't thank me, it
confuses me.'
Here the Junior Partner looked modestly
down. Mrs Hart looked at Ellen with her
eyes full of grateful tears, and then said,
`Not to thank you would be more than I
could consent to, Mr. Creech! Your kindness
penetrates my heart! You have, indeed,
proved yourself a friend at a time when most
needed!'
`I should have called on you long since,
Mrs. Hart, with offers of service, but I knew
you had Dr. Elmore your friend.'
`Alas, he was indeed a friend.'
`I hope I shall prove to be one also,' said
the Junior Partner, diffidently, and at the
same time looking tenderly towards Ellen,
who by no means regarded him with favor.
`I have no doubt you will, sir!'
`Then I may consider my offer as accepted?'
`I—really—indeed, Mr. Creech, I am at a
loss how to reply! It is so great a favor—
and I am so utterly beyond any way of making
you a return!'
`Don't speak of such a thing, Mrs. Hart,'
said Creech disinterestedly. `It would make
me so happy to be of service to you.'
`Then I must for a while burden you, I
fear; for I have no other resource when I
leave here. To-morrow is Saturday, and the
last day on which I can remain here.'
`I will then send to-morrow for your things.
If you are so reluctant to be under an obligation,
I will charge you a trifling rent, which
Ellen can pay with her needle, and that will
make you feel independent.'
`You are very good—too kind, Mr. Creech.'
`So every body tells me, marm. But I
can't help it! Good evening Mrs. Hart.—
Good evening Miss Ellen! Ah, my little
Grace and Tommy, you and I will yet be great
friends!'
The Junior Partner then tapped Tommy on
the head, kissed Grace, and smiling with a
tender glance and gallant bow towards Ellen,
he left the house. Mrs. Hart turned with
looks far brighter and mere cheerful than they
had been for some hours, to Ellen and said,
`I see, dear, we should never despair. Mr.
Creech is indeed a friend raised up by God!
You did not seem grateful enough, Ellen?'
`I don't know, dear mother, but I can't get
over my dislike to Mr. Creech.'
`He can't be so bad as he has been represented,
I think. What friend could have
come more promptly, or offered more aid?—
He even gives up his own rooms.'
`Yes, mama!'
`And charges us but a triflle of rent, in delicacy
to my feelings.'
`Yes, mama!'
`And will let us remain there till we can do
better.'
`Yes, mama.'
`Why, my dear child, what has possessed
you! You look really more sad than before
this sunshine.'
Ellen said nothing in reply. She seemed
instinctively to see a dark cloud ready to blot
heads a storm.
We shall briefly add in closing this chapter
that the next day an officer took possession of
Mrs. Hart's dwelling, and that Mr. Creech
sent a hand-cart and a back for her to remove
to his rooms. They found them cheerful and
genteel; and Mrs Hart was gratified to find
that in addition to the bed he had considerately
added a trundle for the children. There
was bread, and butter, and flour, and tea, and
sugar, in the pantry: and potatoes and meat
in the larder; wood in the closet, and crockery
and cooking utensils, and everything
needful, and that could contribute to their
comfort. Their hearts were full of gratitude,
and even Ellen's prejudices were removed.—
In the evening Mr Creech came in to see how
they were fixed and to take tea with them;
and the board was a very social and happy
one. Mrs Hart was now more than ever dependent;
for she had no property not even
in a chair or table. The hard-hearted administrators,
Messrs. Straitbrim and Straitpurse,
had distrained on all her worldly goods! She
was now wholly dependent for house and furniture,
and home, on Mr. Creech. Poor Mrs
Hart! better would it have been for thee and
thine to trust to the street `where God is!'
than to the deceitful friendship of an unprincipled
man. The succeeding, which will be
also the last chapter, will unfold the nature of
Mr. Creech's philanthropy.
| CHAPTER XI. Ellen Hart | |