University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.
THE BROTHERS.

In one of those once suburban villages of New York,
which that ambitious metropolis has of late years travelled
up to and around, and has incorporated within its own ever-expanding
limits, lived the brothers Ralph and Hugh Werter,
men whose great strife through life had been, not one
of affection, but of avarice. Each thirsting to be rich, as
an abstract desire, had still the pleasure of the game increased
by emulation to outdo the other, and although no
direct animosity usually existed between them, they not
only did not assist each other over the flowerless road they
had chosen, but at times even cast obstacles in each other's
way. For a while their race was a tolerably even one, but
in later years the younger brother immeasurably outstripped
his rival, Ralph, who was too timid to take any
large ventures, and contented himself by hugging the estate
he had already amassed as closely as an extravagant wife
and three costly daughters would permit.

For some years “he held his own,” as he frequently

boasted, while chucklingly predicting the ruinous crash
which seemed to him perpetually threatening the towering
fortunes of Hugh; but the heavy expenses which imperious
habit, and a more imperious partner, imposed upon him,
did not long allow him to make even this moderate vaunt.
Having ceased to progress, he found himself gradually retrograding
along the golden highway which he had so gaily
trod, seemingly under some spell which no effort could
break. An occasional convulsive attempt to retrieve his
lost ground only seemed to quicken his backward pace, and
although the hopes inspired by the habit of success never
deserted him, and he continually anticipated better things,
yet he could not fail to perceive that every passing year
left him poorer than it found him.

While time thus robbed him of its gold, it also soured
his temper, which had never been over sweet, and weakened
principles which had never been over strong. His face, not
naturally unpleasing, had grown rigid and wrinkled, and
his light-gray eye, with the capacity of unmeasured gentleness
of expression, had become hard and stone-like in its
aspect, emitting glances which chilled where they fell, and
seemed at times almost Medusan in their power to blast.

Hugh was a man of very different mettle. Bold, resolute
and energetic, he was quick to perceive and prompt to
take advantage of all offered opportunities for improving
his fortunes. The one idea of gain was constantly before
his mind—it was his first thought on awaking, it dwelt
with him through the day, it mingled with his visions by
night. Like his brother, he was a speculator in real estate,
and both being successful, they had, as has been said,
together climbed the dangerous steep of Fortune for a
while, but where Ralph had paused alarmed and looked
timidly back, Hugh had planted his foot more firmly and
aspired to loftier heights. Success followed him, preceded

him, surrounded him. He seemed to possess the touch of
Midas. He could not buy a farm so unpromising, a marsh
so deep, a hill so high, but that its value trebled on his
hands.

“It is sheer luck,” said Ralph.

“It is foresight,” said his wife; “and you might do the
same, if you could but see to the end of your nose.”

“Did not I buy a farm right alongside of his Clover
Hill purchase?”

“Yes—the wrong side.”

“Did not I buy a meadow where he got a marsh, side
by side, and lose thousands while he made tens of thousands?”

“Yes, but he bought where the city was coming, and
you did not,” replied his wife, sharply.

“How could I tell which way the city was heading?”
said Ralph. “It puts out one foot in one direction, and
seems to be going that way, and then it puts out another
foot in quite a different course and goes that way. When
this new street was opened leading towards my river farm,
and one block of stores and half a dozen straggling houses
were put up on it, everybody said—`Here comes the city
—this is the way she'll go,' and I went and bought a hundred
acres more at an enormous price; and there's the half-opened
street now, the stores going to decay and the houses
unoccupied, and the city has set out on her travels in another
direction.”

“Yes—yes—I know—”

“Precious little,” said Ralph, waxing angry, as he
thought of his failures; “you know enough to praise those
who win, and laugh at those who don't—and that's about
as well as the mass of mankind do.”

A taunting reply rose to Mrs. Werter's lips, which
would probably have been the beginning of a stormy tirade,

such as even her harsh husband was glad to flee from, but
the current of her thoughts seemed suddenly to change.

“I am sure I am far from wishing him any ill,” she
said—“but such uninterrupted prosperity as his is very
unusual—and his time may come.”

“He has some large ventures at sea now,” added Ralph,
eagerly, “and quite uninsured.”

“He will lose nothing in that way—but I do know that
the poor man's health is failing, and that he takes no manner
of care of it, and seems to be quite unconscious that
anything is the matter with him—”

“He is so wrapped up in his schemes.”

“An interesting heir he'll leave to all his riches—that
shy, sickly boy. I suppose he'll have it all.”

“Of course, there's nobody else,” answered Ralph,
gruffly.

“Perhaps he might remember us in his will—”

“Never—and more than that he'll never make one. I
know Hugh well enough for that—but it will all go to Sidney
just the same—and an unjust law it is, too, when his
only brother is living.”

“And such an affectionate one, too,” added Mrs. Werter,
sarcastically.

“No matter about the affection. The law presumes affection
in all such cases.”

“The law presumes a very extraordinary thing, then,”
replied Mrs. Werter.

“I don't see that I am called upon to feel much love for
a selfish and grasping man, merely because he happens to
have had the same parents as myself—I don't dislike
Hugh, and I certainly remember the time when I used to
have a kind of brotherly feeling towards him.”

“Well—that is something, certainly,” replied his wife,
laughing, “I did not think your memory was so good.”

But Ralph's regard for his brother did not extend to
warning him of the danger to his health, which a few
months subsequent to the conversation just narrated more
than justified the predictions of Mrs. Werter. A sudden
failure of his strength, which had long been chiefly sustained
by his indomitable energy and ambition, gave the
first serious warning of a malady which thenceforth progressed
with rapid and resistless strides. Before his surprise
had deepened into alarm, while the syren Hope yet
sang of a speedy convalescence, the mysterious springs of
life suddenly failed, and the millionaire's possessions were
reduced to a shroud.