TRADE and commerce have their heroes as well as arms, and the struggle in which Tyrrel Rawdon at last plucked victory from apparent failure was as arduous a campaign as any military operations could have afforded.
It had entailed on him a ceaseless, undaunted watch over antagonists rich and powerful; and a fight for rights which contained not only his own fortune, but the honor of his father, so that to give up a fraction of them was to turn traitor to the memory of a parent whom he believed to be beyond all doubt or reproach. Money, political power, civic influence, treachery, bribery, the law's delay and many other hindrances met him on every side, but his heart was encouraged daily to perseverance by love's tenderest sympathy.
For he told Ethel everything, and received both from her fine intuitions and her father's legal skill priceless comfort and advice. But at last the long trial was over, the marriage day was set, and Tyrrel, with all his rights conceded, was honorably free to seek the happiness he had safeguarded on every side.
It was a lovely day in the beginning of May, nearly two years after their first meeting, when Tyrrel reached New York. Ethel knew at what hour his train would arrive, she was watching and listening for his step. They met in each other's arms, and the blessed hours of that happy evening were an over-payment of delight for the long months of their separation.
In the morning Ethel was to introduce her lover to Madam Rawdon, and side by side, almost hand in hand, they walked down the avenue together. Walked? They were so happy they hardly knew whether their feet touched earth or not. They had a constant inclination to clasp hands, to run as little children run; They wished to smile at everyone, to bid all the world good morning.
Madam had resolved to be cool and careful in her advances, but she quickly found herself unable to resist the sight of so much love and hope and happiness. The young people together took her heart by storm, and she felt herself compelled to express an interest in their future, and to question Tyrrel about it.
"What are you going to do with yourself or make of yourself?" she asked Tyrrel one evening when they were sitting together. "Ido hope you'll find some kind of work. Anything is better than loafing about clubs and such like places.""I am going to study law with Judge Rawdon.
My late experience has taught me its value. I do not think I shall loaf in his office.""Not if he is anywhere around. He works and makes others work. Lawyering is a queer business, but men can be honest in it if they want to.""And, grandmother," said Ethel, "my father says Tyrrel has a wonderful gift for public speaking. He made a fine speech at father's club last night. Tyrrel will go into politics.""Will he, indeed? Tyrrel is a wonder. If he manages to walk his shoes straight in the zigzaggery ways of the law, he will be one of that grand breed called `exceptions.' As for politics, I don't like them, far from it. Your grandfather used to say they either found a man a rascal or made him one. However, I'm ready to compromise on law and politics.
I was afraid with his grand voice he would set up for a tenor."Tyrrel laughed. "I did once think of that role," he said.
"I fancied that. Whoever taught you to use your voice knew a thing or two about singing. I'll say that much.""My mother taught me."
"Never! I wonder now!"
"She was a famous singer. She was a great and a good woman. I owe her for every excellent quality there is in me.""No, you don't. You have got your black eyes and hair her way, I'll warrant that, but your solid make-up, your pluck and grit and perseverance is the Rawdon in you. Without Rawdon you would very likely now be strutting about some opera stage, playing at kings and lovemaking.""As it is----"
"As it is, you will be lord consort of Rawdon Manor, with a silver mine to back you.""I am sorry about the Manor," said Tyrrel.
"I wish the dear old Squire were alive to meet Ethel and myself.""To be sure you do. But I dare say that he is glad now to have passed out of it.
Death is a mystery to those left, but I have no doubt it is satisfying to those who have gone away. He died as he lived, very prop-erly; walked in the garden that morning as far as the strawberry beds, and the gardener gave him the first ripe half-dozen in a young cabbage leaf, and he ate them like a boy, and said they tasted as if grown in Paradise, then strolled home and asked Joel to shake the pillows on the sofa in the hall, laid himself down, shuffled his head easy among them, and fell on sleep. So Death the Deliverer found him. A good going home! Nothing to fear in it.""Ethel tells me that Mr. Mostyn is now living at Mostyn Hall.""Yes, he married that girl he would have sold his soul for and took her there, four months only after her husband's death.
