CHAPTER XXII.

MR. HEATHERFORD RUINED.

“Beggars! Ruined!” repeated Mollie, with a wondering intonation, as if she could not really comprehend the meaning of the words.

She had known that her father had lost a great deal of money; that he had been greatly distressed over business complications; but, notwithstanding, their every want had been supplied—every comfort and luxury had been theirs up to this time, and she had no more conception of the meaning of the word poverty, from a practical standpoint, than an unreasoning child.

“Yes, dear,” Mr. Heatherford responded to her exclamation; “my last venture has failed—collapsed—and I am, so to speak, ruined. Oh, my darling, I could bear it for myself, but to have your life blighted at the time when it should be the brightest—to have all your future prospects blasted—crushes me to the earth.”

Mollie lifted one white hand and laid it caressingly against her father’s cheek.

“Hush, dearie! Do not talk like that,” she said in a tone of gentle reproof; “you make me feel ashamed, to be regarded as such a tender exotic.” Then she inquired gravely: “What was this ‘last venture’ to which you refer?”

The man glanced curiously up at her; then, taking her hand from his cheek, he drew it around to his lips and kissed it.

“Never mind, Goldenrod, what it was; you would not understand it if I should tell you,” he said evasively.

“All the same, I want you to tell me, if you please, papa, and I will try to understand,” Mollie returned, with quiet decision, adding: “I have heard you speak of it to Mr. Temple, and I have a curiosity to know more about it.”

“Well, it was connected with—stocks,” Mr. Heatherford reluctantly admitted, and changing color slightly.

“Oh! was it ‘trading in futures,’ as I heard Phil express it one day, when you were all discussing stocks?” questioned Mollie.

Her companion bent a glance of surprise upon her.

“Well, yes; something of that kind,” he said, while a bitter smile curled his lips.

“Did—did you lose very much that way, papa?”

“Several thousands, although three years ago I should have regarded the amount as but a drop out of the bucket; but now, since it has taken almost my last dollar, it seems a great deal,” the unhappy man replied, with a sigh.

“Papa, excuse me,” and the girl flushed vividly as she spoke, “but isn’t ‘dealing in futures’ a—one way of gambling? Of course, I do not know much about such things, but I listened quite attentively one day when you were talking with Mr. Temple—I think he was explaining some method in which he was interested—and it seemed to me very much like a game of chance.”

“It is, my darling,” said Mr. Heatherford, with a flush of shame, “and I have always said that it is a disreputable business, and thousands of men are annually ruined by it, homes are made desolate, while half the cases of suicide in the world result from the despair which just such ruin as now stares me in the face entails.”

“Oh, papa!” sharply cried the fair girl, and growing deathly pale, while she searched his face with a look of horror in her eyes. The man drew her arm around his neck and held it there with a grip which seemed to her startled heart to indicate that he was clinging to her for salvation from the very despair of which he had spoken. But he did not appear to heed her cry and continued with the same hopeless note in his tone, and with something of scorn, also:

“I would never have believed, even a year ago, that I could ever sink to such a level; for I had only contempt for such measures and for men who have made their fortunes in that way; but when I found everything going against me and my resources fast dwindling to nothing, I grew wild to retrieve myself, chiefly for your sake, however. I could not endure the thought that you, who had always had every wish gratified—who had known nothing but luxury, and floated upon the topmost wave of prosperity—you who are so fitted to shine in society, should be reduced to poverty, and so, at Mr. Temple’s suggestion, I ventured my last dollar on one throw, and—have lost.”

“Papa, did Mr. Temple advise you to do this?” questioned Mollie, with a start of surprise.

“Yes, and that is not the worst of it, either,” the man bitterly returned. “However, that fact does not excuse me for having yielded to such advice.”

“What do you mean by saying, ‘that is not the worst of it?’” queried Mollie, who had caught the peculiar flash that leaped into his eyes as he said it.

“Don’t ask me, dear,” he returned, with a sudden compression of his lips. “I should not have said that—it escaped me unawares.”

“Never mind; tell me everything, papa,” the girl persisted, and determined to get to the bottom of the matter, “even if you have lost all your money, you haven’t lost me, and I am egotistical enough to fancy that I am more to you than fortune.”

“Indeed, you are, my darling; more than many fortunes!” Richard Heatherford cried as he snatched her to his breast and covered her face with kisses. “Oh, Goldenrod, my life would not be worth living without you!”

“And it will be worth living with me, papa—oh, papa!” Mollie murmured as she clung to him, her eyes fastened upon his face with a nameless fear in their blue depths that smote him to the soul.

“Mollie!” he gasped as her meaning flashed upon him, “surely you did not think I would be guilty of that! No, no, Buttercup—my one priceless treasure, as long as God wills, my life will be very precious to me for your sake. When I said that half the suicides in the world were caused by just such despair as mine, I had no thought of anything like that. Do not fear, love, I could never be such a coward.”

The beautiful girl stood up tall and straight, her face now shining with love and happiness.

“Then, since we are all in all to each other, why should we be discouraged—why grieve for what you have lost?” she cried in a voice that had a strange, exultant thrill in its sweetness. “Who cares for luxury, for society’s smile or frown, or to ride upon the topmost wave of prosperity? I do not, papa, truly, and, to be frank with you, I have long dreaded the time when you would expect me to take a prominent place in society. It all seems very hollow and unsatisfying to me, and, during the last four years, while I have been studying so hard, I have dreamed fond dreams of some time putting my knowledge to some practical use. Now, dearest, do not let us look back with a single regret—you are in the prime of life; I am young and strong. I have a good education and I know I can turn it to some account, so let us begin life together, find some cozy nook in which to make a simple home. I will apply at once for a position to teach—I have some fine vouchers from those Heidelberg professors, you know—and, after you have had time to pull yourself together a little, perhaps something in the way of business will commend itself to you.”

Mr. Heatherford had listened to his daughter with ever-increasing wonder, and when she concluded he regarded her with undisguised astonishment, mingled with admiration. It was a revelation and an inspiration to him to find the beautiful and delicately reared girl so thoroughly practical, so brave and unselfish, in view of what had seemed a most appalling situation, and he was also deeply moved.

“Mollie!” he tremulously exclaimed as he held out both hands to her, “what a dear little comforter you are! You are a veritable staff of pure and solid gold, and you have lifted a load from my heart that was well-nigh crushing me. I thought it would break your heart to give up our beautiful home in New York, our summer place in Newport, the horses and carriages, rich dresses, and the thousand and one pretty things which you have always been accustomed to. But you have proved yourself a noble-hearted heroine, and I am prouder of you than if you had been crowned a queen. Mollie, it seems incredible, but my heart has not been so light for many months. I am happy, in spite of all,” and the proud, long-tried man dropped his head upon his daughter’s shoulder, while a sob of infinite relief burst from his surcharged and grateful heart.

Mollie’s lovely eyes were swimming in tears, but she bravely blinked them away, while a clear and silvery laugh rippled over her red lips.

“Papa,” she said, while she softly smoothed the hair away from his temple, “do you remember that boy who saved the train from being wrecked near New Haven, four years ago, to whom you sent the check?”

“Yes, dear; but what makes you think of him at this time?” inquired Mr. Heatherford, and, looking up with sudden interest, for he had not thought of the incident for a long while.

Mollie flushed brightly as she replied:

“He does seem rather irrelevant to the subject, I know; but I remember that I thought he must have been the happiest fellow in the world to have been such a hero at that time. You know I have always been something of a worshiper of brave and noble deeds, and to be regarded as a ‘hero’ has been to set one on a pinnacle, in my estimation. And now you have called me a ‘heroine,’ and I am proud and happy, even though I have done nothing to deserve the praise except to speak a few comforting words to my own dear father.”

“A few comforting words!” repeated Mr. Heatherford, in unsteady tones. “My child, do you so underestimate what you have done? You have shown to-day that spirit of utter self-abnegation which alone animates all heroes, and you can never realize how much it means to me, for you have inspired me with new life and fresh courage. God bless you, my precious daughter!”

He kissed her tenderly, almost reverently, on the lips, and truly felt that God had indeed been good to him—even though he had been stripped of every dollar in the world—in leaving him this brave, pure, and loving girl to live for.

Both were too deeply moved for speech for a few moments; but Mollie finally disengaged herself from her father’s embrace, and, forcing him back into his chair, drew another for herself to his side.

“Now, papa, let us get down to the practical again,” she observed, with a smile, “for I want you to explain this business a little more fully to me. Will there be any debts?”

Mr. Heatherford’s eyes actually gleamed with amusement at the question, for he could scarcely believe that Mollie realized the import of the word.

“No, dear,” he returned; “I think not. Of course, I shall give up everything, and my real estate, though heavily mortgaged, together with what personal property I hold, will, I am sure, be sufficient to meet all my obligations.”

“That is lovely!” said Mollie, with animation, “for a lot of debts would have made our burdens so much heavier for the future; besides, no opprobrium will rest upon our name if you do not have to fail. You needn’t laugh, papa”—as she caught his smile—“for I really am not such an ignoramus as you might think. But I suppose it will be best for us to get away from this expensive hotel as soon as possible.”

“Yes, and we must go back to New York immediately, for it will be necessary to notify my creditors and make arrangements to settle with them.”

“All right, dearie; I can be ready to leave this very evening, if you wish,” said Mollie briskly, and her father wondered more and more as the reserve force of this tenderly nurtured girl was made manifest to him.

“I think we will wait until to-morrow night, and go by boat, for I have to see Mr. Temple again before I leave,” Mr. Heatherford replied, and his face hardened suddenly as he spoke the man’s name.

“Ah!” said Mollie, who was quickly observant of the change in him, “and that reminds me that you have not yet told me what you meant by ‘the worst,’ in connection with Mr. Temple.”

“Sweetheart, I should never have spoken as I did—that was an unfortunate slip,” her father replied, and feeling that, if Mollie was ever to assume closer relations with the Temple family, it were better that she did not know too much.

“But, having made the ‘slip,’ papa, and aroused my curiosity, it leaves me to imagine all sorts of dreadful things if I am kept in the dark,” she persisted, adding: “Besides, I have realized of late that something was wrong in connection with the Temples, and wondered what could have occasioned the change in their manner toward us.”

“Well, then, perhaps it will be best, having said so much, to tell you that the money which I have recently lost has all gone into Mr. Temple’s pockets.”

“Papa! Are you sure? And he advised you to make this venture!” cried Mollie, aghast at such apparent treachery.

“Yes, there can be no doubt about it, though I learned the fact only this morning, and that was what hurt me most.”

“I should think so, indeed. And he has pretended to be your friend—has even entertained you in his own home while leading you on!” exclaimed the indignant girl, with blazing eyes, her face and tone expressing infinite scorn. “Truly it has been the tragedy of the ‘spider and the fly’ enacted in real life!”

“Do not forget, dear, that the unwary ‘fly’ deserves his share of condemnation for having allowed himself to be so hoodwinked,” said Mr. Heatherford, with a bitterness which betrayed how keen was his mortification at having become entangled in the net which had ruined him.

“Oh! but one would never dream of being so ‘wounded in the house of one’s friends,’” retorted Mollie, with supreme contempt.

“And yet a great deal of Mr. Temple’s money, I am told, has been acquired by these doubtful methods. It is said that he got a fine start in some Western mines, after which he went to San Francisco, where he established himself as a banker. After he came to Boston he also put out his sign as a ‘banker,’ but I learned to-day that he has another office in the city where he operates in the dark in a different business, and that many a man is stripped of his last dollar by him.”

“How dreadful!” said Mollie, with an expression of disgust.

“It was to this office that I was taken and introduced to a gentleman with whom, Mr. Temple informed me, he had long had successful dealings. He spoke only truth, however, for it turns out that the man is his own agent.”

“Oh, papa! that is worse and worse!” cried his listener, aghast. “I never would have dreamed of anything so dishonorable of him—he has always seemed a perfect gentleman.”

“Yes, and yet there have been times when I have observed a cruel look in his eyes and about his mouth,” said Mr. Heatherford. “Of course, I have never known anything about the man until within the last few years, but I supposed him to be at least a gentleman. However, the lesson he has taught me, though dearly paid for, has, I trust, been salutary, while it has also revealed to me the fact that I possess a hundredfold richer mine of wealth and heart of gold in you, my darling, than I ever dreamed was mine.”