Every one is more apt to hear an unpleasant rumor than those whom it immediately affects. Thus Eudosia and her mother were the only persons at Mrs. Trotter's ball who were ignorant of what had happened; one whispering the news to another, though no one could presume to communicate the fact to the parties most interested. In a commercial town, like New York, the failure of a reputed millionaire, could not long remain a secret, and every body stared at the wife and daughter, and me; first, as if they had never seen the wives and daughters of bankrupts before; and second, as if they had never seen them surrounded by the evidences of their extravagance.
But the crisis was at hand, and the truth could not long be concealed.
Eudosia was permitted to cloak and get into the carriage unaided by any beau, a thing that had not happened to her since speculation had brought her father into notice. The circumstance, more than any other, attracted her attention; and the carriage no sooner started than the poor girl gave vent to her feelings.
"What CAN be the matter, Ma?" Eudosia said, "that every person in Mrs. Trotter's rooms should stare so at me, this evening? I am sure my dress is as well made and proper as that of any other young lady in the rooms, and as for the handkerchiefS, I could see envy in fifty eyes, when their owners heard the price.""That is all, dear--they DID envy you, and no wonder they stared--nothing makes people stare like envy. I thought this handkerchief would make a commotion. Oh! I used to stare myself when envious.""Still it was odd that Morgan Morely did not ask me to dance--he knows how fond I am of dancing, and for the credit of so beautiful a handkerchief, he ought to have been more than usually attentive to-night."
Mrs. Halfacre gaped, and declared that she was both tired and sleepy, which put an end to conversation until the carriage reached her own door.
Both Mrs. Halfacre and Eudosia were surprised to find the husband and father still up. He was pacing the drawing-room, by the light of a single tallow candle, obviously in great mental distress.
"Bless me!" exclaimed the wife--"YOU up at this hour?--what CANhave happened? what HAS come to our door?""Nothing but beggary," answered the man, smiling with a bitterness which showed he felt an inhuman joy, at that fierce moment, in making others as miserable as himself. "Yes, Mrs. Henry Halfacre--yes, Miss Eudosia Halfacre, you are both beggars--I hope that, at least, will satisfy you.""You mean, Henry, that you have failed?" For that was a word too familiar in New York not to be understood even by the ladies. "Tell me the worst at once--is it true, HAVE you failed?""It IS true--I HAVE failed. My notes have been this day protested for ninety-five thousand dollars, and I have not ninety-five dollars in bank.
To-morrow, twenty-three thousand more will fall due, and this month will bring round quite a hundred and thirty thousand more. That accursed removal of the deposits, and that tiger, Jackson, have done it all."To own the truth, both the ladies were a little confounded. They wept, and for some few minutes there was a dead silence, but curiosity soon caused them both to ask questions.
"This is very dreadful, and with our large family!" commenced the mother--"and so the general has it all to answer for--why did you let him give so many notes for you?""No--no--it is not that--I gave the notes myself; but he removed the deposits, I tell you.""It's just like him, the old wretch! To think of his removing your deposits, just as you wanted them so much yourself! But why did the clerks at the bank let him have them--they ought to have known that you had all this money to pay, and people cannot well pay debts without money.""You are telling that, my dear, to one who knows it by experience. That is the very reason why I have failed. I have a great many debts, and Ihave no money."
"But you have hundreds of lots--give them lots, Henry, and that will settle all your difficulties. You must remember how all our friends have envied us our lots.""Ay, no fear, but they'll get the lots, my dear--unless, indeed," added the speculator, "I take good care to prevent it. Thank God! I'm not a DECLARED bankrupt. I can yet make my own assignee.""Well, then, I wouldn't say a word about it--declare nothing, and let 'em find out that you have failed, in the best manner they can. Why tell people your distresses, so that they may pity you. I hate pity, above all things--and especially the pity of my own friends.""Oh, that will be dreadful!" put in Eudosia. "For Heaven's sake, Pa, don't let any body pity us.""Very little fear of that, I fancy," muttered the father; "people who shoot up like rockets, in two or three years, seldom lay the foundations of much pity in readiness for their fall.""Well, I declare, Dosie, this is TOO bad in the old general, after all. I'm sure it MUST be unconstitutional for a president to remove your father's deposits. If I were in your place, Mr. Halfacre, I wouldn't fail just to spite them. You know you always said that a man of energy can do any thing in this country; and I have heard Mr. Munny say that he didn't know a man of greater energy than yourself."The grin with which the ruined speculator turned on his wife was nearly sardonic.
"Your men of energy are the very fellows TO fail," he said; "however, they shall find if I have had extraordinary energy in running into debt, that I have extraordinary energy, too, in getting out of it. Mrs. Halfacre, we must quit this house this very week, and all this fine furniture must be brought to the hammer. I mean to preserve my character, at least."This was said loftily, and with the most approved accents.
