Part 8 (2/2)
wouldn't pay you a dollar if he was lousy with 'em.” He took out his wallet, and untying the strings carefully, began to count out the greenbacks.
”I have to carry a pretty good pile to buy calves with,” he chuckled; ”but I reckon you'll be a fair subst.i.tute for one or two. How much do you want--I mean, how little can you git along with?”
Gordon told him the amount his father had suggested. It was not a great sum.
”That seems a heap of money to put in book-learnin',” said the old man, thoughtfully, his eyes fixed on Gordon. ”My whole edication didn't cost twenty-five dollars. With all that learnin', you'd know enough to teach the Ridge College.”
Gordon, who had figured it out, began to give his necessary expenses.
When he had finished, the old man counted out his bills. Gordon said he would give him his note for it, and his father would indorse it. The other shook his head.
”No; I don't want any bond. I'll remember it and you'll remember it.
I've known too many men think they'd paid a debt when they'd given their bond. I don't want you to think that. If you're goin' to pay me, you'll do it without a bond, and if you ain't, I ain't goin' to sue you; I'm jest goin' to think what a' o'nery cuss you are.”
So Gordon returned home, and a few weeks later was delving deep into new mysteries.
Gordon's college life may be pa.s.sed over. He worked well, for he felt that it was necessary to work.
Looking around when he left college, the only thing that appeared in sight for Gordon Keith was to teach school. To be sure, the business; ”the universal refuge of educated indigents,” as his father quoted with a smile, was already overcrowded. But Gordon heard of a school which up to this time had not been overwhelmed with applicants. There was a vacancy at the Ridge College. Finally poor Gunn, after holding out as long as he could, had laid down his arms, as all soldiers must do sooner or later, and Gordon applied for the position. The old squire remembered the straight, broad-shouldered boy with his father's eyes and also remembered the debt he owed him, and with the vision of a stern-faced man with eyes of flame riding quietly at the head of his men across a sh.e.l.l-ploughed field, he wrote to Gordon to come.
”If he's got half of his daddy in him he'll straighten 'em out,” he said.
So, Gordon became a school-teacher.
”I know no better advice to give you,” said General Keith to Gordon, on bidding him good-by, ”than to tell you to govern yourself, and you will be able to govern them. 'He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city.'”
During the years in which Gordon Keith was striving to obtain an education as best he might, Ferdy Wickersham had gone to one of the first colleges of the land. It was the same college which Norman Wentworth was attending. Indeed, Norman's being there was the main reason that Ferdy was sent there. Mr. Wickersham wished his son to have the best advantages. Mrs. Wickersham desired this too, but she also had a further motive. She wished her son to eclipse Norman Wentworth. Both were young men of parts, and as both had unlimited means at their disposal, neither was obliged to study.
Norman Wentworth, however, had applied himself to secure one of the high cla.s.s-honors, and as he was universally respected and very popular, he was regarded as certain to have it, until an unexpected claimant suddenly appeared as a rival.
Ferdy Wickersham never took the trouble to compete for anything until he discovered that some one else valued it. It was a trait he had inherited from his mother, who could never see any one possessing a thing without coveting it.
The young man was soon known at college as one of the leaders of the gay set. His luxuriously furnished rooms, his expensive suppers and his acquaintance with dancing-girls were talked about, and he soon had a reputation for being one of the wildest youngsters of his cla.s.s.
”Your son will spend all the money you can make for him,” said one of his friends to Mr. Wickersham.
”Well,” said the father, ”I hope he will have as much pleasure in spending it as I have had in making it, that's all.”
He not only gave Ferdy all the money he suggested a need for, but he offered him large bonuses in case he should secure any of the honors he had heard of as the prizes of the collegiate work.
Mrs. Wickersham was very eager for him to win this particular prize.
Apart from her natural ambition, she had a special reason. The firm of Norman Wentworth & Son was one of the oldest and best-known houses in the country. The home of Norman Wentworth was known to be one of the most elegant in the city, as it was the most exclusive, and both Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth were recognized as representatives of the old-time gentry. Mrs. Wickersham might have endured the praise of the elegance of the mansion. She had her own ideas as to house-furnis.h.i.+ng, and the Wentworth mansion was furnished in a style too quiet and antiquated to suit her more modern tastes. If it was filled with old mahogany and hung with damask-satin, Mrs. Wickersham had carved walnut and gorgeous hangings. And as to those white marble busts, and those books that were everywhere, she much preferred her brilliant figures which she ”had bought in Europe,” and books were ”a nuisance about a house.” They ought to be kept in a library, as she kept hers--in a carved-walnut case with gla.s.s doors.
The real cause of Mrs. Wickersham's dislike of Mrs. Wentworth lay deeper.
The elder lady had always been gracious to Mrs. Wickersham when they met, as she was gracious to every one, and when a very large entertainment was given by her, had invited Mrs. Wickersham to it. But Mrs. Wickersham felt that Mrs. Wentworth lived within a charmed circle.
And Mrs. Wickersham was envious.
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