Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1874-01-29


pacified He fastened to his wife, who
was reclining on a couch in her dressing
room, resting after round Of visits.
"How have things gone to-day?" she
asked, quickly.
"WOrse and worse. [ have had to call
in everything we could get"
"Annie's one hundred thousand dol
lars?'
Swallowed up long ago, poor child
That is what makes me half mad at the
idea Of her letting Bryan go home with
out her. He would never miss that hun
dred thousand dollars; he has more
wealth now than he knows what to do
with-as his wife Annie would have been
splendidly provided for, and she would
have owed it TO me, so that if | had never
been able to pay her a cent, [ should not
have been troubled NOw-well, l can
not help it, could not command For
tune; l have done as well for her as for
myself"
"Is it too late to make some provision
for her? The place at Newport is safe
you bought that in my name. If this
house could only be secured to Annie
Capital! I will see to it at once. To-
morrow everything may be discovered,
and then it will be too late. 1t is only
| four O'Clock, and Emmonds never leaves
his Office before five. Make an excuse
for me if | am late for dinner"-and
Robert Bell hurried away.
For months he had been living the
| feverish life of one who knows that more
than fortune, reputation, his right to a
place among honorable men, rested as
much on chance as does the stake which
! the desperate gambler has just thrown
1 ~. j L g,
fortune had long been sunk-his own
earnings had gone before-his wife's
dover had been expended in furnishing
the house at Newport, and the yet more
extensively arranged house in the city.
Sarah had been reared in luxury, and
must not be asked to sacrifice her accus-
| toned surroundings. They must live up
the income which her family supposed
them to possess-to be suspected Of being
in any strait would be fatal. Expensive
houses, rich furniture-these were the
capital on which he traded-these gave
confidence to depositors. And when
losses followed losses, and nothing that
was properly their own was left-what
then? Why, credit was more than ever
necessary to them-and confidence makes
credit-and so on to the end-the bitter
end of ruin ard shame. Am [ sketching
a strange, fanciful picture? Is the picture
not a portrait the truth of which every
| days experience may verify? Must it,
| shall it be ever thus? O mothers, to
whose honored hands the Giver of life
has committed the first guardianship,
the first guidance of the future man, will
you not sacrifice your little vanities to
the grand possibilities of your position -?
| VIII you not become, as you may, the
regenerators of society, by teaching your
| children to prize unsullied honor above
wealth? to think the gaze and envy of
| their fellow creatures a poor exchange for
a mind at peace, and a heart on which
rests the sunlight of Gods favor? We
| speak to mothers, because we believe that
in the nursery often the mold has been
cast that shapes the future life; but we
must not linger-the end is near.
For few weeks longer Robert Bell was
able TO stave off the coming ruin. Its
shadow was upon him during all those
weeks, and perhaps none but the simple
| Annie, who had seen the deep depression
| of his lonely hours and his reckless gay
| ETY. in society, could have been surprised
when the last blow fell To her the sur
prise was utter. No dream, no faintest
suspicion of the truth had ever dawned
Honest John Bell " suspect poverty,
ruin, where all the appliances of luxury
were seen! 1t was yet early. Annie had
taken her breakfast alone-by no means
an unusual event in that self-indulgent
! household. The French maid of Mrs.
| Bell came to ask that "mademoiselle
would have the b07ate to come to the cham
| Der of madam" Annie found her sister
in-law surrounded by trunks half packed,
while both bed and couch were covered
with laces, silks, and boxes Of jewelry.
| "Sarah, where are you gOing?" eX-
claimed the astonished Annie.
"Hush-sh-sh, Annie CLOSE the door. |
cannot trust a servant except Fanchette."
"And now the door is closed, what is
the matter?-where is Robert ?"
"The matter is, Annie, that Robert has
| failed He and his partner have lost
every thing. They cannot pay sixpence
on the dollar"
Cannot pay! O, Sarah, what will be-
come of their creditors ?" cried Annie.
at would be more sisterly, think, to
ask what will become of them-the credi-
tors must take care of Themselves"
Annie did not answer as she might
have done-that it was too late for them
to do that She said:
| "Of course, Sarah, Robert is my first
| thought, and he knows, if you do not,
that all I have will be his as much as it is
| mine"
'He deserves no less from you; for, in
all the anxieties of the last few days, he
thought # you, and secured this house
and furniture to you"
Secured this house and furniture to
me! | do not understand. Robert
always told me that my father had left me
one hundred thousand dollars"
"Did you expect Robert to put that sum
in his pocket and keep it till you called
for it? He put it in his business, and it
went, of course, with the rest. But this
house and furniture will sell, dare say,
for fifty thousand; SO you will not be
poor"
"But, Sarah, surely this belongs to Rob
ert's creditors. He told me himself that
they trusted him the more for seeing this
| handsome house and furniture, and
| and
Annie hesitated. She knew not how to
put the thought into words, that Robert
was perpetrating fraud in thus putting
| beyond the reach of his creditors what he
! knew had been regarded by them as secur-
ity for his payment of his debts; but her
cOuntenance was sufficiently expressive,
and Sarah exclaimed:
annie, you are too absurd l tell
you the house is yours, and you may be
thankful to Robert for taking such care
of you. | sent for yoU TO tell you that |
am going to papa's; and [ think you had
better come there with me for few days,
till things settle down and people are done
| ia l<inC OF course Won will either sell or