Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 November 1875 — A ROMANCE OF HARD WORK. [ARTICLE]

A ROMANCE OF HARD WORK.

“ Raymond Thurston, I believe you are insane.” As Amabel spoke her voice had a sharp quiver of pain as well as anger. She was very proud of her brother—proud of his handsome face, proud of his talents—and she considered lie was about to degrade himself socially, if not morally, by the stand he had announced himself to have taken. Seeing her passionate outcry had not moved him, she said, pleadingly: “ Have you no pride left—you who had all the old Thurston pride once ?’’ “ I have just so much pride left, Amabel,” he answered, “ that I cannot sit litre eating the bread of idleness another day.” “ You know you are more than welcome here.” “I do know it. I appreciate your husband’s kindness at its full value, Amabel. I hope the day will come when I can prove it. And, Sis, I am only too thankful that you have his true love and strong arm now, when we have lost so much. Now', darling, don’t try to hold me back from honest employment.” “ But, Raymond, you can surely obtain some gentlemanly position.” “ I have been trying faithfully for six months, you know with what success. There, don’t look at me so pitifully; it will come right one of these days.” “ I wonder what Bertha Haines will say when she sees you perched upon the driver’s seat of an express-cart.” For the first time the forced composure of Raymond’s face was stirred. A dark red flush crept to his very hair and he rose and walked up and down the room. Glad to have him moved at last, his sister said: “ With her aristocratic ideas and the pride that is inborn in her family, she will never recognize you again, Raymond.” “ Then I must, lose the honor of her friendship,” Raymond said hoarsely. “Don’t say anymore, Amabel.” And unable to bear any further remonstrance he left the room, and a little later the house. The Thurston pride of which Amabel had spoken was stinging him sorely, in spite of the brave face he carried to cover it. He was a man of twenty-eight, and his lite had held only the pleasures of wealth, the opportunities money gives for the development of intellect for twentyseven of these years, wHis parents died when he was a boy, and Amabel, his only sister, fifteen years his seniOT, married before she was twenty, and gave her brother a home, whenever he was not traveling, or in some seminary or college. While he considered himself a rich man Raymond had accepted this hospitality as freely as it was ottered, and Amabel’s jewel case, her husband’s library, and her children’s iplay-room bore witness of her brother’s generosity But suddenly, without warning, there swept over the country one of the devastating financial crashes so overwhelming in this land of speculation, and Raymond was recalled from Europe by his brother-in-law informinghhn ihartrir entire patrimony had been swept away. Investments that had seemed to the young man, ignorant in all business details, as secure as they were flattering had fallen to ruin, and a few r hundred dollars dnly were left of what had been a noble fortune. At first Raymond did not realize the extent of his misfortune. He was still young, well educated, in perfect health, and certainly the world had some niche where he could earn an honest living. But weeks of seeking for employment gave him a keener knowledge of his misfortune. Friends who had been willing to smoke his cigars and drink his wines; who were yet willing to extend every social greeting, shook their heads when asked to confide any portion of their business into his keeping. Brought up to study, to live a life of elegant leisure, Raymond Thurston at twenty-eight knew absolutely nothing of business, nor had he studied any one branch sufficiently to qualify himself for a teacher. He tried faithfully to find some employment, spending what little remained of his fortune with the lavish hand that had not yet learned economy. Society welcomed him home after two years ol wandering, for Amabel Barclay

kept open liopse for her friends and Raymond was a favorite in her circle. Her husband, many years older than herself, had long retired from business with a large income, and while he gave Raymond cordial welcome had no opportunity to aid in finding occupation. And Bertha Haines, the" friend from whom Raymond parted two years before, hq,this renewed intercourse became to him more than ever was friend before. They had not thought of love lb the days when the girl was a debutante in society and Raymond one of its favorite beaus; but when they met after the long parting some new emotions stirred both hearts. They did not know what made the hours pass so quickly when they were together, nor recognize the subtle charnuthat dwelt for each in the other’s presence, for many a w eek. Raymond was the first to aw r aken to the knowledge that love was the charm that bound him to Bertha’s side whenever she was present; that it was love that made her eyes, the dark, sparkling eyes, so beautiful in their expression; that love tuned her voice so musically; that love made her the dearest of all women in his eyes. Amabel was delighted. Bertha was one of her oWn fast friends, and Bertha’s father a merchant of standing and influence. Asjde from this the girl had inherited money from her mother. Altogether, Amabel decided the match would be charming. But a hint to that effect met one of Raymond’s sternest frowns, such as had never visited his face in the old sunshiny days. “ Never speak of it again, Amabel,” he said: “lam no fortune-hunter to live upon the money of a rich wife. I’ll carve out my own way first.” But carving his own way proved tedious work till, desperate at his many failures, he accepted a position, offered in jest, of driver to an express wagon. “I .do understand horses,” he said, “if I cannot sell goods or keep books.” It proved harder work, however, than in the first flush of his desperation lie had imagined. Not the mere w r ork; that he ’soon conquered; but the slights, rudeness and stares of his old friends. Some few recognized the true nobility that accepted honest labor rather than an easy dependence upon wealthy connections, but these were few. A w*eek passed, when one morning, delivering some goods at one of the most fashionable stores on Broadway, as he went out, Raymond saw Bertha Haines opening the door of her low carriage. An impulse made him start forward to hand her out, only to draw back crimson with confusion, and dropping the hand he was lifting to raise his hat. The sweet, musical voice he loved spoke at once: “ Please, Mr. Thurston, help me with this obstinate door. It will stick.” lie went forward, then, with all the easy grace of manner that had ever marked his intercourse with ladies. The little gloved hand was extended to meet his as she thanked him. “ It is too bad you, are engaged,” she said. “ I should’ like so to borrow your artist eye to aid me iff selecting a dress for my reception on Thursday evening. But you will come and tell me how I succeeded alone, will you not ?’ ’ She said the last words very earnestly* raising her dark eyes to his face. “ Do you really wish me to come now?” he asked. “Ido!" “ Then I will come! I must say goodmorning,” and he left her with a most courteous bow. But while the great express-wagon rattled down the streets Miss Haines turned away from the store she had been entering and re-entered her carriage. “To my father’s,” she said to the driver, and a few moments later the merchant looked up from his ledgers to see his only child, in a faultless walkingdress, entering the counting-house. “ Another check!” he said, moving a chair to her. “How much this time?” “ Nothing! I want to talk to you. Shut the door, so those horrid men can’t hear me.” 4.The door closed, jand privacy in the sanctum was secured. Bertha astonished her paternal relative by bursting into a passion of weeping. “ Why, Bertha!” he cried. “.Never mind, papa. It is all over now. Do you remember what you said to me when Raymond Thurston asked for some employment here ?” “ Not exactly.” ,“ I do. You said that a man brought up;as he had been would want a sinecure ; that he never would come down to real work, and that you had no position for fine gentlemen; that his otter to take a subordinate position and learn business was simply a farce.” “ Did I say all that, Bertha?” “Tome you did. I suppose you dismissed him politely enough. But, papa, If you thought he was really in earnest, really meant to work for a living, would you give him a chance here ?” “Yes. Ilelias capacity, brains-and a splendid address. But he has been an idler all Lis life.” “He is no idler now. He is driving an express-cart.” . “ Bertha!” “He is. I met him not an hour ago. He thought I was going to cut him. As if,” she added, with magnificent scorn, “ I would slight an old friend iu adversity.” “ Bless my soul! Driving an expresswagon! Ned Thurston’s boy! Educated at Harvard! Dear me! Did you notice whose wagon it was, Bertha ?” Bertha had not noticed, and the old gentleman bustled into his coat and started for the office. At dinner he informed Bertha that Raymond had accepted a place in his own large establishment, -with a frank confession of his profound ignorance of all business affairs, but in earnest resolution to learn well and speedily whatever appertained to the duties intrusted to him. . It was not many--jpeeks before Mr. Haines congratulated himself upon the acquisition of his new clerk. He told Bertha marvelous stories of Raymond’s rapid progress and the strides he wasmakjng'dn his new life, not knowing of the long nights spent in poring over ledgers and accounts, the many .misgivings the new clerk felt. The same active brain and

quick intelligence the new student had brought to gain college honors now stood in good stead in mastering the intricacies in invoices, book-keeping and countinghouse mysteries, and Raymond gained favor rapidly in the eyes of his employer. It is a question whether actual merit would have advanced him quite so frequently as he was promoted, hard as he worked and steadily as lie improved. But Mr. Haines worshiped liis only child, and the burst of tears in the counting-house told him the secret Bertha successfully concealed from all others. A self-made man himself, with an ample fortune to add to the one Bertha already held, lie laid no stress upon money in thinking of a son-in-law. Energy, industry, integrity—these were the foundation-stones of his own fortune, and these were the qualities he desired in a life-companion for the child who was the hope and pride of his old age. The closer the ties were bound that drew Raymond• Thurston to him in business the more he honored and esteemed the sterling worth of the man he so long regarded as a mere butterfly °f fashion, one of fashion’s spoiled children. And learning to respect his worth he had also learned td love the frank, bright face, the clear, ringing voice, and the ever-ready courtesy of the young clerk. It grew to be a very frequent occurrence for him to ask the support of the strong, young arm when the streets were slippery, and at the door to invite Raymond to dine, sure of a beaming Jook of pleasure from Bertha. There came a day, after two long years of faithful service, when Raymond was informed in the privacy of his countinghouse that a junior partnership was his if lie would accept it. Some emotion checked the utterance of Raymond’s heartfelt gratitude. He extended his hand to meet a cordial grasp and hear: “Yes, yes! I know. And now if you want to tell Bertha the news you may take a holiday.” “ May I tell her more? May I tell her I love —that the one hope of my life is to win her love in return?” “You may tell her that 1 have been your most sincere friend and warmest well-wisher for two years. You may tell her,” and the old man’s eyes twinkled, “that I have looked upon you as a son ever since the day she met you driving an express-wagon.” “ And behaved like an angel!” “Yes, yes, of course, they always do. There; get along with you. I’m busy. Take my love to Bertha, if you are not overburdened with your own.” And so—you know the rest. There was a wedding, and Amabel gave the bride a parure of diamonds and owned, when in a burst of confidence Bertha told the whole story, that after all the Thurston, pride was not so good in the end as Raymond’s pride.