Three millions! or, The way of the world
“So much the better.”
“Have you any plans?”
“We have.”
“What are they?”
“Dick thinks of building a small house, in which his income will keep
us very comfortably and pleasantly.”
“That is all very pretty; but I shall build a house like mine for you
in the spring.”
“That would be very pretty! Dick could not support that style of
living.”
“Julia, I have never intended that you should suffer by my marriage.
The half million mentioned in uncle John’s will shall be yours. It will
not be convenient for you to wait till I am thirty years of age. Here
is the first instalment of your portion.”
“I object, Eugene.”
“Why?”
“I am too proud to receive a gift.”
“Why didn’t you decline uncle John’s legacy of twenty thousand, then?”
laughed he.
“That was different.”
“Just the same. The half million comes from uncle John.”
“Dick will not consent.”
“It is none of his business. I give you the half million to-day. Here
is one fifth of it. I will give you my note for the balance.”
Eugene was the most powerful personage at Pine Hill, and Julia could
not prevail against him. Dick attempted to protest when he was told
of what had been done. He talked about feeling mean; about being the
“victim” of charity; but Eugene proved to be the better logician.
“Dick,” said he, “Julia has been accustomed to our style of living at
Pine Hill, and it would be cruel to deprive her of the luxuries and
comforts which she knows so well how to use.”
“Then it is cruel in me to ask her to be my wife.”
“Marriage is absolutely necessary to both of you, and has been from the
beginning, in my opinion. Dick, you are trying to be a tyrant towards
Julia or me.”
“No!”
“You wish to take her away from the luxuries of wealth, and you wish to
deprive me of the pleasure of doing for her what I may do for others.”
“But my salary is sufficient to support her in what you and I both, a
few years ago, would have deemed the most princely luxury.”
“Doubtless you think it would be very pleasant for me to live at Pine
Hill, while my sister is cramped up in a small house, and reduced from
plenty to comparative poverty. I say, Dick, it is cruel for you to
insist upon such a state of things. You may humor your pride, and think
it is magnanimous in you to choose poverty instead of wealth; but I am
to be the sufferer--not you. I am to bear the pains and penalties of
your reduced circumstances--not yourself.”
“I do not wish to render you uncomfortable, certainly,” replied Dick,
musing.
“Then you will not object to Julia’s half million.”
“There is something humiliating in the situation.”
“Nothing of the kind. What your pride does not permit me to do for you,
I shall do for my sister.”
“The same thing under another name.”
“No; the real question is, Shall I let my sister suffer for your pride
and obstinacy? If I were to sacrifice anything at all for your sake,
or even for hers, it would be different. I am giving her what I do not
need, and cannot use. There is no merit whatever in my deed.”
Dick yielded only when he could no longer contest the point; but his
pride was not entirely overcome.
“Now, Dick, you will be a rich man in spite of yourself,” said Julia,
when they met alone after the conversation; “and I shall have the
happiness of making you so.”
“There is a man at the Port who will say that this wealth is what I
have been aiming at.”
“But there is not a person at Pine Hill who would believe him.”
“Julia, I wish you had not a dollar in the world, and could not get
one,” replied Dick, still galled by his situation.
“You would love me none the less; but I am glad to be worth taking.”
“You do not need wealth to make you a prize. I am not sure that you
wouldn’t be better without it than with it.”
“I will try to be good with it, Dick.”
“Julia, I used to love you before I saw you. I wish we had met before
the shower of gold fell upon you.”
“I have no need to complain; and sad and unfortunate as the
circumstances are, we must endeavor to be resigned,” said Julia. “It is
hard to have wealth thrust upon you, to be rich in spite of yourself;
but I hope we shall be reconciled to our unhappy lot.”
We must do Dick Birch the justice to say that he endeavored to submit
with good grace to the grievous misfortune of half a million. He
patiently bore the cross, and richly deserved the crown. But it should
be added that, in his doubts and fears, his trials and vexations, he
was supported and cheered by the fairest and truest of women; that
Julia did all she could to comfort him in his affliction, and render
tolerable the load of wealth he was compelled to bear on his shoulders.
When he desponded, she pointed him to the redeeming joys of his
condition. Without her in this trying emergency, he would have been
forlorn indeed.
There is nothing like the comfort and solace which a true woman is to a
man burdened with trials, especially when there is any money to spend.
In such a strait as that to which poor Dick was reduced, she is a
blessing which cannot be over-estimated. She is more than a comforter:
she bears his burden, and labors assiduously to remove far from him the
cause of his sorrows.
Under such gentle ministrations as those of his betrothed, it is not
strange that Dick Birch soon recovered his wonted cheerfulness, and
looked with tolerable calmness upon the heavy burden he was doomed to
carry. He had faith in woman; and he knew, if she could not relieve him
of the load, she could help him spend it. When November came, and the
bridal day dawned upon him, he had attained a very happy frame of mind;
so that he hardly needed the consolations of any one besides Julia to
sustain him in the great trial.
They were married by the Rev. John Porter. The Pine Hill mansion was
thronged again, though the wedding was a comparatively quiet affair,
measured by that of Eugene and Mary.
Dr. Lynch was not present. He was not invited. People did not know
whether he was asked or not; but they thought it quite natural that
he should not care to witness the crowning triumph of his rival. The
doctor said nothing; he kept his own counsel, and bided his own time.
“There will be a fall at Pine Hill one of these days,” he muttered more
than once, when he thought of Julia as the wife of another, and of his
own banishment. “There will be weeping and wailing over broken ties and
unlawful heirs. I shall be satisfied then.”
Dick had long cherished a desire to visit Europe. When the marriage day
was first arranged, he had even thought of a bridal tour across the
ocean; but his own means were insufficient. Julia was pleased with the
idea of a second visit; but Dick abandoned the project after a careful
examination of his finances. When the half million dropped into his
lap, Julia opened the subject again, and Dick gladly assented to the
project. The whole family went to the city to see the happy couple
start.
Pine Hill was dull without Julia; but there was nothing but happiness
there. Mary Hungerford was all that her husband had hoped or desired,
and he was never tired of being at her side. There was enough to occupy
their time; and if the house was not as lively as it had been when
Julia was at home, there were no heavy and weary moments there.
The Library building was completed, and the institution was in full
operation, much to the satisfaction of Poppleton, though the people at
the Mills complained at its location, and said it ought to have been
placed half way between the two villages.
In June, when Mr. and Mrs. Birch returned, their house--a duplicate of
the Pine Hill mansion, and placed within ten rods of it--was half done;
but the happy couple were cordially welcomed to their old home. In the
autumn they took possession of their new residence; and we will leave
them for a time, as happy and contented as love and plenty could make
them.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
THIRTY YEARS OLD.
Four years have passed away. Pine Hill is still glorious in its beauty;
more glorious in its men and women, for the true life has been rich in
true progress. The twin mansions are full of joys. Life has blossomed
and borne fruit.
Eugene Hungerford’s birthday is at hand, when he will be thirty years
old. The time for the disposal of John Hungerford’s three millions has
been nearly reached. Dick Birch, and Julia, and Mary have insisted that
the occasion shall be celebrated. The lord of the manor is not partial
to celebrations, but he has consented to a gathering of his most
intimate friends on the occasion, and a letter from the three eminent
trustees in Baltimore has just been received, announcing that they
will be present in a body, attended and supported by the distinguished
lawyer who invented all the repetitions in John Hungerford’s will.
Eugene does not look so old as he did when he returned from Europe,
though five years have been added to the calendar. He has been happy
since that time; he has had enough to occupy his mind. Manly exercise
and abundant fresh air have kept him healthy, and he certainly looks
better than ever before. Mary has hardly grown older, though there is
a certain maturity in her looks which does not lessen her beauty, or
render her less interesting than before. She is a shade stouter, but
she is as elegant in form, and as graceful in movement, as before.
She is the mother of two children.
Mrs. Hungerford senior is still a hale, healthy old lady, happy in
seeing her children and grandchildren happy. She walks over to the
“other house,” as she terms it, every day, unless the weather is very
unfavorable, and even oftener if Master Eugene Hungerford Birch, now
happily just entering his third year, has the “snuffles,” or any
indications of croup, measles, whooping cough, scarlatina, or chicken
pox.
Dick Birch, perhaps somewhat modified by matrimony, is a happy man.
He is hardly appreciated by the people; if he had been, he would have
gone to Congress before this time; but Mrs. Birch declares that he
is the best man in the world, though he is just a little too fond of
having his own way--a grievous fault, said to be almost universal
among husbands. By no means let it be supposed that Mr. and Mrs. Birch
quarrelled, though without any positive information on the subject, we
will venture to say that Julia occasionally went into a huff, and that
Dick had to pacify her. As each had a will and a way, it is more than
possible that concessions were necessary on both sides; but as both
were reasonable, and there was true love, concession was easy, and even
pleasant. There was only a little spice to give variety to life, and no
happier couple lived in the whole world. They still continued to be on
the same side of the bridge.
Master Eugene Hungerford Birch is a remarkable child; it is absolutely
necessary that this fact should be stated, otherwise it would not be
known. Besides being able to sleep and to eat bread and milk, which he
did very naturally, if not gracefully, he could perform as many tricks
as the clown in a circus, and he was duly exhibited to the crowds of
admiring guests who came to Pine Hill. He could fall off the sofa,
tumble down stairs, and roll out of bed with remarkable facility; and
these feats were usually succeeded by healthy exercise of the lungs,
causing them to grow strong and vigorous.
Master Johnnie Hungerford was even a more remarkable young gentleman
than his cousin. He was four years old; and though he had, as yet,
made no speeches in town meeting, or in the hall of the Poppleton
Library, he could talk faster, and say more in a given time, than any
other child of his age in the county. His extraordinary talent in this
direction already pointed him out as a future member of Congress, to
which honorable position no one doubted that he would ultimately arrive.