58. CHAPTER LVIII.
THE HEALTH OF THE JUNIOR PARTNER.
“I call for a bumper!” said Lawrence Newt, when the
fruit was placed upon the table.
The glasses were filled, and the host glanced around his table.
He did not rise, but he said:
“Ladies and gentlemen, commercial honesty is not impossible,
but it is rare. I do not say that merchants are worse
[ILLUSTRATION]
The Junior Partner.
[Description: 538EAF. Page 343. A man stands between two women who are seated at a dinner table.]
than other people; I only say that their temptations are as
great, and that an honest man—a man perfectly honest every
how and every where—is a wonder. Whatever an honest
man does is a benefit to all the rest of us. If he become a
lawyer, justice is more secure; if a doctor, quackery is in danger;
if a clergyman, the devil trembles; if a shoemaker, we
don't wear rotten leather; if a merchant, we get thirty-six
inches to the yard. I have been long in business. I have met
many honest merchants. But I know that 'tis hard for a merchant
to be honest in New York. Will you show me the
place where 'tis easy? When we are all honest because honesty
is the best policy, then we are all ruined, because that is
no honesty at all. Why should a man make a million of dollars
and lose his manhood? He dies when he has won them,
and what are the chances that he can win his manhood again
in the next world as easily as he has won the dollars in this?
For he can't carry his dollars with him. Any firm, therefore,
that gets an honest man into it gets an accession of the most
available capital in the world. This little feast is to celebrate
the fact that my firm has been so enriched. I invite you to
drink the health of Gabriel Bennet, junior partner of the firm
of Lawrence Newt & Co.!”
There was a moment of perfect silence. Then every body
looked at Gabriel except his mother, whose eyes were so full
of tears that she could see nothing. Gabriel himself was entirely
surprised. He had had no hint from Lawrence Newt of
this good fortune. He had worked faithfully, constantly, and
intelligently—honestly, of course—that was all Gabriel knew
about his position. He had been for some time confidential
clerk, so that he was fully cognizant of the state of the business,
and knew how prosperous it was. And yet, in this moment
of delight and astonishment, he had but one feeling,
which seemed entirely alien and inadequate to the occasion,
for it was merely the hope that now he might be a regular
visitor at the house of Boniface Newt.
Hope Wayne's eye had hung upon Lawrence Newt, during
the little speech he had made, so intently, that Arthur Merlin's
merriment had been entirely checked. He found himself curiously
out of spirits. Until that moment, and especially after
the little conversation between Hope and Gabriel, in which
Abel Newt's name had been mentioned, Arthur had thought
it, upon the whole, the pleasantest little dinner he had ever
known. He was not of the same opinion now.
Edward Wynne and Ellen Bennet showed entire satisfaction
with the dinner, and especially with Lawrence Newt's toast.
And when the first hum of applause and pleasure had ceased,
Edward cried out lustily,
“A speech from the junior partner! A speech! a speech!”
There was a general call. Gabriel could not help rising,
and blushing, and bowing, and stuttering, and sitting down
again, amidst tempestuous applause, without the slightest coherent
idea of what he had said, except that he was very happy,
and very glad, and very sure, and very, etc., etc.
But he did not care a song for what he had said, nor for
the applause that greeted it, when he saw certain blue eyes
glistening, and a soft shyness upon certain cheeks and lips, as
if they had themselves been speaking, and had been saying—
what was palpably, undeniably, conspicuously true—that they
were very happy, and very glad, and very sure, and very, etc.,
etc. Very, indeed!
