The Silver Lining Part 7

Not a word came from the son's lips; a deep sigh escaped him. He stepped forward and walked out of the greenhouse, leaving his father there--alone.

The couple were quietly married at the Greffe the next day.

Frank went about his work as usual, and when he came in to dine, his step-mother was awaiting him, her face beaming with smiles.

When Frank found himself thus confronted by Mrs. Mathers No. 2, he did not feel nearly so hostile to her as he had felt towards his father.

He could not however welcome her warmly when his heart clamoured otherwise. He was not a hypocrite.

When the husband advanced with his wife, the youth took the outstretched hand and in a cold tone, his lips still uttering what his heart did not inspire, he said, as if welcoming a stranger: "I am happy to make your acquaintance, madam."

He soon perceived that he had gone rather too far. He had acted on the impulse of the moment. In fact, he had dug the abyss that was ever to lie between his step-mother and himself.

"After all," he said to himself, "it is better to obey one's heart."

He did not even stop to think that there were two powers at work.

He was more to be pitied than blamed. He had loved his mother dearly, and now that she was dead, he revered her memory.

He now perceived the influence of a good home. It had rescued him from a life of idleness and perhaps of vice. The genial atmosphere of their little parlour had kept him at home even more than his books, which he, however, cared a good deal for.

But now, it was all finished. This place would no more be home. It was a house, a comfortable dwelling place; that was all. He would now have to live amongst unattractive and semi-hostile surroundings.

Through his own fault, he would suffer. One thought however strengthened him. Thousands of others had suffered for conscience's sake. He remembered how his blood rushed to his face, when he read about the tortures of the martyrs of religion; or the driving into exile of the patriots of Poland.

Strengthened with these thoughts, he rose, more determined than ever to do right; to champion the good; to work; to study; to strive to acquire wisdom.

CHAPTER V.

THE REWARD OF INORDINATE AMBITION.

Frank Mathers had hours of dejection. Like every other person, he had his faults. In one of these fits of depression he grew impatient. Then, his ambition turned in the wrong direction. He was seized with a mania for getting rich quickly.

How to proceed, he did not know.

At last he thought that if he could invent something useful, and patent it, he would soon acquire what he so much desired to possess.

Now, there are thousands who are constantly trying to do as much, but they are as likely to succeed as they were when they first began.

Frank was one day walking along a country lane when he perceived a cow which had broken loose.

She galloped about, her tail erect, her head lowered.

He pursued the animal, and after a prolonged chase and much dodging and capering on the part of both, he managed to grasp the rope which was tied round the brute's horns. He held it tightly and proceeded to tether his captive. But when he had driven the peg in the ground, he noticed that it was very easily pulled up.

He pondered over this as he proceeded towards his home. Suddenly, he slapped his forehead. "I have it," he said to himself. "I will have a peg, which, when being driven, will go all right, but when pulled about, will release two small p.r.o.ngs at the sides. This will make it impossible for anyone to pull it up; a small k.n.o.b will be affixed which, when turned, will replace the p.r.o.ngs, and the peg will come out in a jiffy."

"Ah!" he went on thinking, "this would be a useful thing, an article which would command a ready sale. Besides, it would be used wherever a good gripping peg would be necessary."

He was enthusiastic. His mind was already full of different schemes which he would start when he had acquired fame and riches.

When he came home, he was so sure of success that he imparted his idea to his step-mother, with whom he was not generally very confidant.

Poor Frank! the volley of mockery which he received quite baffled him.

"So you think to make your fortune in that way," she said. "No, no, my boy, you never will."

"But don't you see that it's a most useful thing, that----"

"Stop, stop," she interrupted, "don't make me laugh. Do you think that people are going to listen to your nonsense? Why! your peg would get clogged with earth and would not act."

"Wouldn't it though, at any rate, it's worth thinking over, so I'll do that."

"If you choose to spend your money in that fas.h.i.+on, you can do so,"

retorted the lady, smiling contemptuously.

"You won't laugh at me this day month," thought Frank as he made his exit.

Once alone again, he grew more determined than ever. His mind was completely dazzled with the bright future before him.

Next morning, he posted a letter to an inventor's agency in London.

He stated that he had invented something he knew would be useful, and very much in demand if manufactured. The letter went on to detail in full length the "safety peg." Then he went on to say that he would very much like to have it patented and if they would kindly send terms and advice in the course of a mail or two, he would be thankful.

Two days afterwards, he hoped to receive the joyful news. "They will certainly write soon,--such a valuable article--besides, they have an interest in its being patented," he said to himself.

He accordingly watched for the postman, and as soon as he saw him, his heart beat wildly. To think that he had the precious missive. He approaches, and now he is going to open the gate,--no, he pa.s.ses without even looking in the direction of the house.

"Surely he must be forgetting," thought Frank, and he shouted: "Mr.

Pedvin, have you any letter for me?"

"No; not to day," said the postman--and he went on his way.

"What are they up to now?" thought the youth, "they ought to make haste. I'll wait till to-morrow, and if I don't receive any news, I'll send them a note, and a pretty sharp one too."

Next day he again watched for the postman's arrival. He felt miserable; the state of uncertainty in which he was, caused him to be depressed. Still he could not imagine that the letter would contain anything contrary to his hopes.

The idea was so far from his wishes that he shook it away at once; he could not even bear to think of it.

But the postman came not, and it was now ten o'clock. He remembered with pain that the day before he had pa.s.sed by at half-past nine.

"I must attend to my work," he thought, "he will come presently." He went about the greenhouse, watering his plants, but every other minute he opened the door and anxiously watched for the bringer of good news to put in an appearance.

He came at last. He handed a letter to Frank who ran towards him to receive it.

"You seem very much in earnest," remarked the postman, "maybe it's a love-letter. And from London too," he added noticing the post mark.

"I'm not so foolish as that," said Frank; as if such letters were below his dignity; "this is about an invention which I am going to have patented."