CHAPTER XIX.
Geron Vivian was sitting in his arm chair. It was the day of rest, or should have been, but none had come to him. He was constantly thinking how he could manage to get back to his farm and wondering how he had ever been enticed to leave it.
The salary that he had received had seemed enormous while he lived upon the farm, but now he reasoned, money is like holding water in your hand. It slips through your fingers, no matter how tightly you hold it, or how much you have. I have spent more money in the last four years than in all my lifetime before. First comes rent, gas bills, servants’ wages, and clothing—more needed in three months than in that many years in the country—and shoes! Why, they are a weekly tax for some one of the family; stone pavements scour them to pieces. “Then car fare—well I had better stop or I will have the blues worse than ever. I don’t feel quite myself today and I suppose I am blue from worry over that mortgage. Insix months’ time the lease will be up and we shall go back to our home and when once that mortgage is paid I will never place another dollar on anything I own.”
Walking to a large mirror he exclaimed: “Father! is it possible?” and then glanced around to see if any one was within hearing. “I thought it was he, but how old I am looking—as old as he did a short time before he died, and yet he was thirty years older than I. He raised a large family out there on the land and amassed wealth, while I have played the fool by coming to the city. Tom is a brighter man than I, I see now. One comfort I have—that interest was paid on the mortgage yesterday and if I can only sell those stocks, I will get that mortgage paid.”
Just then Lear and Libra Shuman drove up to the door in their carriage. He greeted them cordially, as Grace, his wife, brought them into the room. The conversation became general for a time and then the ladies went off by themselves. Geron and Lear talked of their business affairs.
Finally Geron says, “I want to sell those stocks and clear off that mortgage, Lear. Do you think I can do it before spring, for I intend going back to the farm again?”
“They have gone up and down,” Lear replied, “and they must advance soon, so I would advise you not to be in a hurry.”
“I wish they had gone up before I ever mortgaged my property to buy them, or down to perdition, I don’t care which,” Geron replied.
“Well, you must not blame me, for I did the best I could for you. You wanted to give your boys a chance to attend the colleges here in the city and have the refining influences of association not to be had in the country. I am sure it has improved them and gives them a polish that they never would have had had they not come.”
On the way home afterwards, Lear told Libra that her brother seemed to imply that he, Lear, was to blame for the mortgaging of the estate.
“I don’t think I am,” he said. “I merely told him how he could secure the stock. I bought heavier of it than he. He complains because he has never received any dividends, only promises. Neither have I.”
In about two months Geron thought he had a customer. Every evening as he came home the old, bright expression seemed returning. He was already planning for a return to the old home. Grace had begun to prepare for the packing, and she had just come to the front door to look over some plants she had felt uncertain about taking with her when who should stand before her but Geron, his lips drawn and his face as white as snow. Before she realized what he was about he had fallen across the floor. All was confusion. The members of the family were running about in all directions. A physician was summoned and said it was paralysis, caused by some sudden shock.
In a day or two he changed his mind and declared it was brain fever caused by several other ailments and he must be kept quiet. Weeks went by and his delirium was terrible, as he shrieked, “I am ruined!” and then again over and over, he cried, “Watered stock, watered stock—I am ruined!”
Then he would imagine he was on the farm again and he would tell them how he wanted everything done. Again he would become partly conscious and cry out, “All the money is gone, all is lost. We are paupers!”
It took all the strength of two men to hold him at these times. Finally he became conscious with a full realization of his great loss, and almost the first word he heard was a voice in the hall, saying, “I must have my rent orI will send him to the hospital, and I will only wait a few days longer. If you have not the money for me day after tomorrow I will send the ambulance. He ought to be there anyway.”
Poor Geron became unconscious again. In a few hours he revived and wanted to know what it all meant. What had happened to him?
His wife implored him to be patient and not to mind until he was well and by coaxing succeeded in getting him quiet again. But memory would return and with it the awful straits they were in, but he said, “I will not sink under this and leave my helpless family alone. Yes, I will be quiet. I have will power to do that much. I will get well, but I must know one thing; have I lost my situation?” Poor Grace only looked the answer she was afraid to put in words.
“I see,” he said, “it is as I feared. The same schemers who sold those stocks to me have taken all else that I have. It was only a part of the scheme to entice me to risk all.”
“Not all, Geron dear, you have the boys, and am I not worth having?”
“Oh, Grace dear, to think that I should have been so foolish.”
For an answer she kissed him and begged him to go to sleep and they would talk it over when he was stronger. When he revived the first thing he said was, “Thank goodness mother’s property is safe and we can live on that and the mortgage does not close for two years. With the boys’ help we can make a living. Will they be willing to go back to farm life?”
They were just at the age when boys who have lived in the city consider it a great hardship to live in a smaller place.
“Yes,” they said, “we will go if you will only get well.”
In a few weeks he was better and then he would say, “To think of being robbed by your friends. Fiends would be a more appropriate name for them.” And to think that Lear had advised him! They raised enough to appease the landlord until he was better and by selling most of their furniture got back to the old home once more. All was so different now. None of the conveniences he had had in the years past belonged to him and all he could do was to work with the tenant and take it on shares. It was a terrible humiliation, but it was better than the uncertainties of the city. The best part of their mother’s home had never been used by the tenants and all the best furniture had been left there, so old Mrs. Vivian could have gone back had she wished, but she had always found it too lonely and had never gone.
For two years at least Geron would have to pay interest on the mortgage, and after that he could not calculate what would be done. He saw no way of paying the principal and though her land was exempt, still it could not be sufficient to supply the family with the present prices that they would make from the farm.