But they made the mistake of waiting to hear what
he had to say first. Within fifteen minutes his
tongue had done its work and they were all rich men.—He
gave every one of them a lot in the suburbs of the
city of Stone’s Landing, within a mile and a
half of the future post office and railway station,
and they promised to resume work as soon as Harry got
east and started the money along. Now things
were blooming and pleasant again, but the men had
no money, and nothing to live on. The Colonel
divided with them the money he still had in bank—an
act which had nothing surprising about it because
he was generally ready to divide whatever he had with
anybody that wanted it, and it was owing to this very
trait that his family spent their days in poverty and
at times were pinched with famine.
When the men’s minds had cooled and Sellers
was gone, they hated themselves for letting him beguile
them with fine speeches, but it was too late, now—they
agreed to hang him another time—such time
as Providence should appoint.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Rumors of Ruth’s frivolity and worldliness at
Fallkill traveled to Philadelphia in due time, and
occasioned no little undertalk among the Bolton relatives.
Hannah Shoecraft told another, cousin that, for her
part, she never believed that Ruth had so much more
“mind” than other people; and Cousin Hulda
added that she always thought Ruth was fond of admiration,
and that was the reason she was unwilling to wear
plain clothes and attend Meeting. The story
that Ruth was “engaged” to a young gentleman
of fortune in Fallkill came with the other news, and
helped to give point to the little satirical remarks
that went round about Ruth’s desire to be a
doctor!
Margaret Bolton was too wise to be either surprised
or alarmed by these rumors. They might be true;
she knew a woman’s nature too well to think
them improbable, but she also knew how steadfast Ruth
was in her purposes, and that, as a brook breaks into
ripples and eddies and dances and sports by the way,
and yet keeps on to the sea, it was in Ruth’s
nature to give back cheerful answer to the solicitations
of friendliness and pleasure, to appear idly delaying
even, and sporting in the sunshine, while the current
of her resolution flowed steadily on.
That Ruth had this delight in the mere surface play
of life that she could, for instance, be interested
in that somewhat serious by-play called “flirtation,”
or take any delight in the exercise of those little
arts of pleasing and winning which are none the less
genuine and charming because they are not intellectual,
Ruth, herself, had never suspected until she went
to Fallkill. She had believed it her duty to
subdue her gaiety of temperament, and let nothing
divert her from what are called serious pursuits:
In her limited experience she brought everything to
the judgment of her own conscience, and settled the
affairs of all the world in her own serene judgment
hall. Perhaps her mother saw this, and saw also
that there was nothing in the Friends’ society
to prevent her from growing more and more opinionated.
Copyrights
The Gilded Age from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
