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REFERENCE
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NY PUBL C LIBRARY THE BRANCH LIBRARIES
3 3333 08075 042'
RICH AND HUMBLE
THE MISSION OF BERTHA GRANT
StotE fot H?oung {people
BY
OLIVER OPTIC C ^e 3
AUTHOR OF ' THE BOAT CLUB," " ALL ABOARD," " NOW OR
NEVER," "TRY AGAIN," "POOR AND PROUD," "LITTLE
BY LITTLE." " THE RIVERDALE STORY BOOKS, " ETC.
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
T ~
* »F
€ITT OF NEW YOU •
F6I7252
TO
Emma Xoutse H^ams
THIS BOOK
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
BY HER FATHER.
PEEFACE.
AGREEABLY to the promise made in the preface
of " Little by Little," the author presents the fol-
lowing story to his young lady friends, though he
confidently expects it will prove as acceptable to
the embryo " lords of creation " as to those for
t/
whom it was more especially written.
The girls will find that Bertha Grant is not
only a very good girl, but that her life is animated
by a lofty purpose, which all may have, though
they fail to achieve the visible triumphs that re-
warded the exertions of the heroine of " Rich and
Humble."
The boys will find that Richard Grant was not
always a good boy, because his life was not ani-
mated by a lofty purpose; but the author hopes?
in another volume, to present him in a higher
moral aspect, and more worthy the imitation of
those who, like him, have wandered from the true
path.
" Rich and Humble " is the first of the Wood-
ville Stories, and several of the characters intro-
duced in this book will appear again; but each
5
•6 Preface.
story will be complete in itself, and independent
of the others.
With a renewed expression of thanks to iny
young friends for the cordial welcome they ex-
tended to the several volumes of the " Library
for Young People," I offer them " Rich and Hum-
ble," with the hope that it will not only amuse
their leisure hours, but will inspire in them that
high aim which is the fountain of a pure and true
life.
WILLIAM T. ADAMS.
DORCHESTER, Sept, 8, 1863,
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I, In which Bertha Grant Becomes a Missionary
to the Heathen 9
II. In which Bertha finds herself short of Funds. . 22
III. In which Bertha makes a Visit to the Glen. ... 35
IV. In which Bertha does Something towards Civ-
ilizing Noddy Newman 48
V. In which Bertha hears Good News and Bad
News 61
VI. In which Bertha reasons with her Brother, and
the Greyhound floats again 75
VII. In which Bertha reads the Newspaper, and
faints away , 88
VIII. In which Bertha meets the new Owner of
Woodville 101
IX. In which Bertha leaves Woodville, and Richard
is as proud as ever 115
X. In which Bertha visits the Widow Lamb, and
makes Arrangements for the Future 129
XI. In which Bertha starts for New York, and
makes the Acquaintance of Master Charley
Byron 142
XII. In which Bertha becomes a Governess and
resides at Blue Hill 155
7
8 Contents.
CHAPTER PAGE
XIII. In which Bertha loses her Situation, after
Master Charley has made a Sensation 109
XIV. In which Bertha visits her Father's Office, and
answers an Advertisement in the Herald 185
XV. In which Bertha finds a new Home, and is
mystified by Strange Things 19^
XVI. In which Bertha listens to the Story of a Family
Quarrel 211
XVII. In which Bertha hears Good News, and is
sorely persecuted 221
XVIII. In which Bertha proves her Innocence, and
meets Richard in the Station House 232
XIX. In which Bertha finds Uncle Obed. and returns
to Woodville 241
XX. In which Bertha visits the Glen again, and the
Story ends.. 250
RICH AND HUMBLE ;
OR,
THE MISSION OF BERTHA GRANT.
CHAPTER I.
IN WHICH BERTHA GRANT BECOMES A MISSIONARY
TO THE HEATHEN.
"PLEASE to give me ten dollars, father?'1 said
Bertha Grant.
" Ten dollars ! ' exclaimed Mr. Grant, with a
smile which looked very encouraging to the appli-
cant. " What in the world do you want ten dol-
lars for? '
" O, I want to use it, father."
" Well, I suppose you do. I have not the slight-
est doubt on that point."
" You are in a hurry now, father, and I will tell
you all about it another time," replied Bertha,
casting an anxious glance at her brother, who ap-
peared to be an interested listener.
9
io Rich and Humble, or
" Well, child, there is ten dollars," added Mr,
Grant, as he handed her two half eagles.
" Now, dad, do only half as much as that for
me, and I will be satisfied," said Richard Grant,
the only brother of Bertha.
" Not a dollar, Richard. Where did you study
politeness, my son? Dad! Do you think that
is a proper term to apply to your father? '
" I meant papa," whined the boy, in affected
tones of humility.
" If you ever call me ' dad ' again, I will send
you off to a boarding school to mend your man-
ners. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
" I am, papa, and I promise you I never will
call you so again ; though that is what all the fel-
lows call their governors."
" Enough of this. I do not wish to hear any
slang talk in my house. Don't call me ' dad ' or
' governor,' either, before my face or behind my
back."
" I will not, papa."
" Nor papa, either. You need not be a little
rowdy, nor a great calf."
" I will not, father. Now give me five dol-
lars," whined the youth, as he extended his hand
to receive the gift.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. n
" Xot a dollar, Richard ! " replied Mr. Grant,
sternly. " Money does you no good."
" I don't think that is fair, father," protested
Richard. " When Bertha asks you for ten dollars,
i/ t
you give it to her. When I ask you for only five,
YOU will not give it to me. If she had asked for
V
twenty or fifty, YOU would have let her have it.'7
€/ */ / *•
" Very likely I should," replied the father, so
coolly that it was clear the argument of his son
had not moved him.
" I think it is partial."
" You can think what you please, Richard."
" Why won't you give me money when I ask for
it, as well as Bertha? I am older than she is, and
I don't see why I should be treated like a baby."
" Because you act like one. When you behave
like a man, you shall be treated like one."
"What have I done, father?"
" You have not done anything that is noble,
generous, or manly. You want five dollars to
enable you to visit some bowling alley, billiard
saloon, or horse race."
" I don't want it for any such use."
" What do you want it for? "
" Yrou did not ask Bertha what she wanted her
money for, at least you did not make her tell you."
12 Rich and Humble, or
" I know very well she will apply it to a good
use.':
i.
Humph!'1 growled Richard. 'She has gath-
ered a crowd of beggars and paupers in the Glen,
and she will waste the whole ten dollars upon I
them. I don't think it is very proper for her to
associate with those dirty savages from the Hol-
low."
" It is more proper than to associate with the
better dressed savages from the other side of the
river."
...
Won't you let me have the five dollars,
father?" pleaded Richard, who had a point to
gain, and therefore was not disposed to carry his
argument any farther.
" I will not, Richard. I gave you five dollars
the other day, and the next morning I heard that
you had been seen with most disgraceful com-
panions in a bowling saloon. Richard, if you
have any respect for yourself, or regard for me
and your sisters, do not associate with low and
vile company."
As Mr Grant uttered this earnest warning, he
put on his hat and left the room. When he had
gone, and the wayward son realized that his
father fully understood his position, he threw
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 13
himself upon the sofa with an exclamation of an-
ger and resentment. It was evident that the
warning he had received produced no effect upon
him, and that he was only smarting under the
pain of disappointment.
His father had so often given him money when
he asked for it, that he did not expect to be re-
fused in the present instance, especially when he
saw his sister so liberally supplied. He remained
for a few moments upon the sofa, venting his
anger and disappointment by kicking and crying,
as a very small child does when deprived of some
coveted plaything.
" That's too confounded bad ! " exclaimed he, at
last, rising from the sofa and walking towards
Bertha, who had been a sad and silent spectator
of the scene which had just transpired. " All my
fun for the day is spoiled. Berty, won't you help
me out of this scrape? '
"What scrape, Dick?"
" I want five dollars very badly. I must have it
too. I can't get along without it. I shall be a
by-word among all the fellows if I don't have it,"
added Richard, with a great deal of earnestness.
" Lend me five dollars of the money father gave
you, and I will pay you in a few days, when the
governor is better natured."
14 Rich and Humble, or
" The governor ? " suggested Bertha, with a re-
proving smile.
" Father, I mean, of course. What is the use of
being so nice about little things. I never saw the
old man in such a ferment before in my life.''
"The old man?"
" There it is again ! '
" I don't like to hear such names applied to
father, It really hurts my feelings, and I hope
YOU will not do so."
17
" Pooh ! All the fellows call their fathers by
these names. It sounds babyish to say ' my
father; ' and I don't like to be different from the
rest of the fellows."
" I hope you will not be like the young men on
the other side of the river with whom you as-
sociate."
"Xonsense! They are real good fellows. They
don't go to the prayer meetings, it is true, but for
all that, thev are better than hundreds that do
/ i/
go."
" I think they are bad boys, and I hope you
won't go with them any more."
" Then it was you that told father I went with
them," said Richard, suddenly stopping in his
walk across the room, and looking his sister full in
the face.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 15
..
I did tell him, Richard; but YOU know I did so
for your good."
" Pooh ! For my good ! Do YOU think I cannot
take care of myself? '
"- I hope you can."
" I didn't think you were a little tell-tale,,
BertY," sneered Richard.
t/ /
" I haYe spoken to you about going with those
bad boys, and begged you to keep away from them.
If YOU knew how bad I feel when I see niY brother
*
in such company, you would not complain of me
for telling father."
" I won't complain, Berty," replied Richard,
suddenlY changing his tone. " You are a real
\j <_-*
good girl and you intended to do me a heap of
good when you told father. You are the best sis-
ter in the world. Now lend me the five dollars,
BertY, and I never will find fault with YOU for
t/ /
anv thing YOU mav do."
V *—J t-' *s
" I cannot, Richard."
"You cannot? Yes, you can. Haven't you
got two half eagles in your hand ? '
" I have, but I got them for a particular use."
" But I will pay you again."
" I suppose you will, if you can."
" If I can ! Do you think dad — father, I
16 Rich and Humble, or
mean — will always be as savage as he was this
morning? '
" I am afraid you don't understand him, Rich-
ard. He thinks that giving you money does you
injury."
" Don't preach any more, Berty. Will you
lend me the five dollars?'
" I cannot. It would not be right for me to
do so, even if I could spare the money."
"Why not?"
" Father refused to give it to you, because
he thought it would be an injury to you, and it
would certainly be wrong for me to thwart his
purpose."
" Then vou won't leave me have it? " demanded
b
Richard, with a struggle to keep down his resent-
ment.
"What are you going to do with it?'
" What odds does it make what I want it for? '
" If you want it for any good purpose, I might
let you have it," answered Bertha, who was wav-
ering between a desire to oblige her brother and
the fear of doing wrong.
" I want it to put in the contribution box for
the Hottentots in the Sandwich Islands, of
course," replied Richard, with a sneer.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 17
" Tell me what you want it for, Dick."
" Well, I scorn to lie about it. I offered to
bet five dollars with Tom Mullen that our sail
boat would beat his, and he has taken me up.
The race is to come off to-day, and if I don't
get the money I shall have to back down."
" I hope you will, Dick," said Bertha, sorrow-
fully. " What would father say if he knew you
were betting on boats?'
" If he had any spunk at all he would hand
out the money, and tell me to go it."
" You know very well he would disapprove of
it. I think it is very wicked to gamble and bet."
" No preaching. Are you willing to have me
tabooed as a sneak; to have me a by -word and
the laughing-stock of the fellows?'
" I would rather have such fellows hate you
than like you," answered Bertha, sadly. " I did
not think you had gone so far as to gamble."
" Pshaw ! There ig no gambling about it. I
am not going to be branded as a sneak. If you
won't lend me the money, I must get it some-
where else."
" I cannot lend it to you, Richard, for such
a purpose. You will be a disgrace to your fam-
ily if you go on in this way."
i8 Rich and Humble, or
" I should like to know what you are do-
ing! Don't you spend half your time with those
dirty savages from the Hollow? Do you think
it is right for the daughter of Franklin Grant
to associate with those dirty, filthy, half-civilized
ragamuffins? '
" It will not injure either them or me."
" I am ashamed of you. If it does not hurt
your feelings it does mine, to hear that you
spend your time with these dregs of society. The
fellows on the other side are all laughing at you."
" Let them laugh. While I do my duty, I need
not fear them."
" Come, Berty, we won't quarrel. Let me have
one of those half eagles, and I will let you go
with the savages as much as you please."
" No, Richard," replied Bertha, shaking her
head, with a smile which showed that there was
no anger or resentment in her heart."
" Do, Berty ! "
" I cannot ; my conscience will not let me do
so." , '
"Confound your conscience!'1 exclaimed Rich-
ard, rushing out of the room, in a paroxysm of
anger.
Bertha was sorely tried by the conduct of her
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 19
brother. She had observed, with anxiety and
pain, the dissolute course of Richard. She had
reasoned and pleaded with him to abandon his
wayward companions, but no good result had
attended her efforts to reform him.
Mr. Grant was a broker in the city of New
York. He had the reputation of being a very
wealthy man. He lived upon a magnificent estate
on the Hudson, about twenty-five miles from the
city. His wife had been dead several years, and
his three children were under the guidance of a
housekeeper, who, though an excellent woman, did
not possess a mother's influence, nor exercise a
mother's authority over her young charge.
Woodville, the residence of the broker, was a
beautiful place. The mansion and its appoint-
ments were all that wealth and taste could make
them. Servants, without number, came and went
at the bidding of the children. Tutors and gov-
ernesses had been employed to superintend the
education of the young people. Boats on the
river, carriages on the land, were ever ready to
minister to their inclinations. There was no
end to the dogs, ponies, rabbits, monkeys, squir-
rels, deer, and other pets, which were supplied
to beguile their leisure hours.
2O Rich and Humble, or
Mr. Grant believed himself to be a rich man,
and none of his friends or neighbors had any rea-
son to suspect he was not a rich man. He lived
like a nabob; but more than this, he was a gen-
erous and kind-hearted man, and those who knew
him best respected him most, while his wealth
purchased for him the worldly esteem of all with-
in the circle of his influence.
As my young readers have already discovered,
he was an indulgent parent. Since the death of
Mrs. Grant, his children had been his sole do-
mestic happiness. He was wholly devoted to
them ; but his immense business transactions
obliged him to be absent from an early hour in
the morning till a late hour in the evening, and
they were thus left, for the greater portion of the
time, to the care of the housekeeper and their
instructors.
Our story opens in the month of July, and
it was vacation with the young people. The tutor
and the governess had two months' leave of ab-
sence. Richard, Bertha, and Fanny were free
from the restraints of study. They had nothing
to do but enjoy themselves. How Richard, who
was fifteen years old, spent his time, has already
been shown.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 21
Bertha, while wandering alone, one May-day,
in the Glen, a secluded valley on the bank of the
river, half a mile from Woodville, had met a
party of poor children from Dunk's Hollow,
which is a little village a mile or more from the
mansion house. There were seven of them, and
they were children of the poorest people in the
neighborhood. They were dirty, ragged, barefoot,
and their condition excited the pity of the child
of plenty.
She gave them the cake and confectionery she
had brought to grace her lonely May-day fes-
tival in the Glen, told them stories, and made
herself as agreeable as though she had been an
angel sent to mitigate the woes of poverty and
want. The event opened a new vision to Bertha,
and she at once began to devise means to instruct
these children of want and improve their worldly
condition. Without going to a far-off land, she
became a missionary to the heathen, the friend
and companion of the needy and neglected. De-
spising the taunts of her brother and her sister,
she spent most of her leisure hours with her
ragged disciples in the Glen.
22 Rich and Humble, or
CHAPTER II.
IN WHICH BERTHA FINDS HERSELF SHORT OF
FUNDS.
WOODVILLE was situated on the right bank of
the Hudson. About one mile above it was the
village of Dunk's Hollow, as it was called. It
was only a small collection of houses, occupied
by boatmen, fishermen, and laborers — American,
Irish, and Dutch, all blended together in the most
inharmonious manner.
Dunk's Hollow had a very bad name in the
neighborhood, and man, woman, or child who
came from there was deemed a reproach to the
race. There was only one shop at the Hollow,
and that was the principal source of all its mis-
ery, for its chief trade was in liquor, pipes, and
tobacco. The oldest inhabitant could not remem-
ber the week in which there had not been at least
one fight there, and the number was often half a
dozen. The men did small jobs, and spent most
of their earnings at the tap-room of Von Brunt,
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 23
while the women maintained an almost ineffectual
struggle to obtain food enough to keep themselves
and their children alive. This was Dunk's Hol-
low, to whose poor and neglected little ones Ber-
tha Grant had become a ministering angel.
On the opposite side of the river was the thriv-
ing village of Whitestone, in surprising contrast
with the place just described. It contained four
or five thousand inhabitants, with all the ap-
pointments of modern civilization, including a
race-course, half a dozen billiard saloons, where
betting and liquor drinking were the principal
recreations, and as many bowling alleys and fash-
ionable oyster shops. All these traps to catch
young men were frequented by the elite of the vil-
lage, as well as by the sons of rich men, whose
estates adorned the hills and valleys of the sur-
rounding country. Here Richard Grant had
taken his first lesson in dissipation.
About half way between Woodville and the
Hollow was the Glen. It was a beautifully-
shaded valley, on the bank of the river, through
which a crystal brook from the hills above bub-
bled its way over the shining rocks to the great
river. It was a fit abode for the fairy queens, and
Bertha was a constant visitor at the spot, even
24 Rich and Humble, or
before she made the acquaintances of the savages
from Dunk's Hollow, as Richard persisted in call-
ing them.
The Glen was situated in a curve of the river,
which swept in from Woodville to the Hollow.
Off the Cove, as it had been named, was a small
island, containing not more than a quarter of
an acre of land, called Van Alstine's. It was cov-
ered with rocks and trees, and was a frequent
resort of boating parties, especially those from
Woodville. This island, as well as the Glen, was
owned by Mr. Grant, and he had taken some pains
to clean up the underbrush, and furnish it with
seats and arbors.
Merry voices were heard in the Glen, even
while the tones of anger and reproach were ring-
ing in the lofty rooms of the mansion at Wood-
ville. The savages from the Hollow were already
gathered there, and the repeated glances which
they cast down the river indicated the earnestness
with which they expected the coming of their
apostle of mercy. But Bertha was not ready to
join them yet. The attitude of her brother was
far from promising, and with a sad heart she real-
ized that the heathen had invaded her own house.
After Richard rushed out of the house, angry
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 25
and disappointed, her etyes filled with tears, and
she tried to think of some method by which she
could save him from the error of his ways. She
knew that Tom Mullen, and the other young men
with whom her brother had lately begun to asso-
, ciate were the vilest of the vile. Tom had been
seen intoxicated in the streets of the village, and
it was well known that he and his companions
were gamblers, if not thieves.
What could she do to save him. Alas! there
was nothing that a child like her could do; but
she resolved never to cease pleading with him to
reform. She wept and she prayed for him. She
had faith to believe that He who lets not a spar-
row fall unseen, could save her brother from ruin
and death, and with Him she pleaded that Rich-
ard might be redeemed.
Bertha's heart was full of love and gentleness ;
and while she wept over her brother, she rejoiced
in the little flock to whom she had been the mes-
senger of so many blessings. She had taught
them to read, and imparted to them that wisdom
which is higher and purer than any which flows
from earthly fountains. As she thought of them,
she glanced at the two gold pieces in her hand,
and a smile lighted up her sweet face, when she
26 Rich and Humble, or
imagined the pleasure they would purchase for
the lambs of her fold.
Taking her hat and shawl, she left the house
and walked down to the boat house. It was lo-
cated on the bank of the river, by the side of a
small wharf extending out into the deep water.
" Waiting for you, Miss Bertha," said the old
boatman, who had been told to row her over the
river.
" I am all ready, Ben," replied Bertha, as she
took her seat in the boat.
" What ails Mr. Richard this morning? ' con-
tinued Ben, as he glanced at the sail boat, which
was moored in the river a short distance from, the
shore, and in which Richard was seated, looking
very gloomy and dejected. " He is uncommon
cross this morning."
" Something happened at the house which did
not please him."
" I thought so. He wanted to borrow five dol-
lars of me; but I could not lend it to him, for I
did not happen to have it about me. I am sorry
Mr. Richard feels so bad."
" I hope he will feel better," replied Bertha.
" He tried to borrow the money of the cook,
and of the hostler, but none of them had so much
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 27
about them. Wouldn't his father let him have the
money."
" He would not. But I am all ready, Ben,"
said Bertha, who was very willing to change the
subject.
"Where are you going, Bertha?'1 called Rich-
ard from the boat.
" Over to Whitestone."
" Wait a moment, and I will go with you," re-
plied Richard, as he pulled ashore in his skiff.
" What are you going to do over at Whitestone? '
he asked, as he stepped into the boat.
" I am going over to buy some things."
" For the savages, I suppose," sneered Richard.
" They are " answered Bertha, unmoved bv the
e- t/
sneer. " If vou knew how much pleasure niv
I/ JL I/
work affords me, you would want to join
me."
" I think not; I would not disgrace my family
by mixing with the slime and filth of the Hollow.
Your ragged disciples stole half the strawberries
in the garden last night."
" Not my children, I know."
" I will bet five dollars thev were the same ones
it
to whom you taught the Ten Commandments, and
' Now I lav me,' " laughed Richard.
*/ O
28 Rich and Humble, or
" I am sure it was none of mine. We are
ready, Ben. You can push off. I feel like row-
ing a little this morning, and I will take one oar,
if you please."
Bertha placed her reticule and shawl on the
seat in the stern, and seated herself at one of the
oars. Ben pulled a gentle stroke to accommodate
that of Bertha, and the boat moved forward to-
wards Whitestone. Richard kept bantering his
sister all the way about the savages of the Hollow,
and seemed to have entirely recovered from his
disappointment and anger. In about half an hour
they reached Whitestone. Bertha put on her
shawl, and taking her reticule in her hand, walked
up to the principal street of the village, while
Richard departed in another direction.
Bertha stopped at a dry goods store, where she
bought two pieces of cheap calico, some jean, and
a number of other articles, amounting to ten dol-
lars and fifty cents.
" Dear me ! " exclaimed she, as she put her hand
into her reticule ; " I have lost all my money ! "
"Lost your money?" said the salesman.
" I had two half eagles in my reticule, and both
of them are gone," added she, looking upon the
floor, and searching the bag again. " I have not
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 29
opened the reticule since I started from home, and
I am sure they could not have fallen out."
t/
" Didn't you put them in your pocket? '
" No ; I am sure I put them in my bag. But
it cannot be helped. Of course I cannot take
these things now."
" Oh, yes, you can. You are Mr. Grant's daugh-
ter, and I shall be glad to give you credit for any
amount you may desire."
" Thank you, sir. Then I will take the things,
and pay you for them the next time I come to
Whitestone."
" Any time, Miss Grant. I will send them down
to your boat."
But Ben had followed her up from the wharf,
and carried the goods down for her. On their
way to the river, she told him that she had lost
ker monev.
t/
"Did you lose it in the boat?"
t/
" I don't know where I lost it. I am sure I put
it into my bag, which has not been opened since
I left the house."
" I saw you put the reticule on the seat in the
stern. Mr. Richard sat there all the way coming
over."
Bertha blushed at these words, and looked ear-
3o Rich and Humble, or
nestly at the boatman to discover what he meant
by them ; but Ben looked perfectly blank.
" Perhaps I dropped them out before I fastened
the reticule." added Bertha.
" Perhaps YOU did, Miss Bertha ; but "
Ben stopped after the " but," and looked upon
the ground, as though he had made a mistake.
Bertha's face was crimsoned with shame, as she
thought what that terrible " but ' might mean.
Richard had sat upon the bag, containing the
monev, during the passage across the river. Ben
had taken pains to state this fact in so many
words. What could he mean by it?
When they reached the wharf, they found Rich-
ard in the boat, ready to return with them.
" Come, Berty ; I have been waiting this half
hour for you," said he ; "I am in a hurry."
" Going to have the race to-day, Mr. Richard? '?
asked Ben, as he placed the bundle of goods in
the bow of the boat.
" Yes, certainly. I told you yesterday it would
come off to-day at eleven o'clock," answered Rich-
ard.
" You told me there was some little difficulty
about the matter this morning," added Ben, with
a smile, which was intended to remove any ap-
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 31
pearance of impudence which the words might
otherwise convey.
" I have got over that difficulty, and am all
ready for the race. We will have a good wind
to-day, and I am just as certain that I shall win
the race, as I am that I sit here. Bear a hand,
Ben ; I am in a hurry."
"Then you raised the money, Mr. Richard?'
said Ben, carelessly, as he adjusted his oars.
" To be sure I did. I told you there were a
dozen persons who would be glad to lend it to
me. Bob Bleeker lent me ten dollars, though I
did not ask him for but five."
" There ! ' exclaimed Ben, suddenly rising up,
and slapping his hands upon his trousers pockets ;
" I have forgotten my tobacco, and I shall die a
thousand deaths without it. Will vou excuse me
tt
for five minutes, Miss Bertha ? "
" Certainly, Ben."
"Hurry up," added Richard.
" I will be back in less than five minutes ;
and Ben ran up the wharf as if the house of his
nearest friend had been on fire.
He rushed up one street, and then turned into
another, which brought him to the Empire Saloon,
of which Mr. Bob Bleeker was the owner and pro-
32 Rich and Humble, or
prietor. Taking a two-dollar bill from his wallet,
he bolted into the saloon, and thrust it into the
face of the keeper of the establishment.
" What is the matter, Ben ? You are all out of
Wind/' said Bob, as he glanced at the two-dollar
"
Mr. Richard wants you to give him a better
bill for this one/' replied Ben, puffing like a por-
poise, from the effects of his hard run.
" A better bill ? What does he mean by that? "
t>
" You know all about it. Didn't you just give
him this bill?"
" No, sir! I did not," replied Bob, quick to
resent any trick, or any imputation of unfairness.
" I did not give him that bill, or any other."
"Did you lend him ten dollars just now?'
" No, sir! I did not ! ' answered Bob, with
emphasis.
" Then I have made a bad blunder, and I beg
your pardon."
" All right, Ben^"
" Give me half a pound of that best Cavendish,
and I will call it square."
Ben having obtained his tobacco, which he had
really forgotten, hastened back to the boat. Tak-
ing his place at the oars, he pulled his steady,
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 33
even stroke, which in a short time brought them
within hail of the Woodville wharf, where the
boatman, without any apparent reason, suddenly
suspended his labor, and the boat soon came to a
dead halt.
" What are you stopping for, Ben? " demanded
Richard. " You may put me on board of the
Greyhound, if you please."
" Not yet, Mr. Richard. When I get into a
fog, I always stand by, and wait till I can see my
way out of it."
" What do you mean by that, Ben ? "
" Hold on a minute, Mr. Richard, and I will
make the daylight shine through what I have said
in a very short time."
" Bear a hand, then, Ben, for you know I am in
a hurry."
" So am I, Ben," added Bertha.
" Miss Bertha lost ten dollars in this boat,
which goes right against my conscience."
" Perhaps I lost it in the house," suggested
Bertha.
" Perhaps you did, but " And Ben made
a long pause before he added, " I don't believe
you did."
" Well, what has all this to do with me, Ben ? "
34 Rich and Humble, or
asked Richard, his face as red as Bertha's had
been.
" Not much, perhaps ; but I don't want Miss
Bertha to think now, or at any future time, that /
took the money."
" Of course I don't think any such thing, Ben,"
added Bertha, reproachfully.
" But you may think so at some future time,
if the matter isn't cleared up now."
" I certainly shall not, Ben," interposed Bertha.
" Please don't keep me here, when all my children
are waiting for me in the Glen."
" Only a minute, Miss Bertha. I did not take
your money; but "
" Another ' but,' Ben," said Richard. " If you
have got anything to say, why don't you say it? "
" I will say it," replied Ben, as he proceeded,
in the most mysterious manner, to turn all his
** /
pockets inside out, to open his wallet, and shake
out his handkerchief. " The half eagles are not in
my pockets, you see."
" Ben, you are a fool ! " exclaimed Richard.
The boatman seated himself again, and gazed in
silence upon the bottom of the boat.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 35
CHAPTER III.
IN WHICH BERTHA MAKES A VISIT TO THE GLEN.
" You don't understand me, Mr. Richard," said
Ben, after he had mused for a time.
" I'm sure I do not. You act as though you
had lost your senses/'' replied Richard.
" But I have not lost my conscience, Mr. Rich-
ard. Perhaps you would not object to exhibiting
the contents of your pockets."
"Do you mean to insult me, Ben?'" exclaimed
Richard, reddening with indignation.
" Xo, sir, certainly not; but you will do me a
great favor by turning your pockets out — just to
oblige an old servant of the family."
" Enough of this, Ben. Use your oars again."
" Excuse me, Mr. Richard, but I am in earnest.
That money was lost in this boat. I am a poor
man, and it must be found before any suspicion
rests upon me."
" Ben, do you mean to say I took the money
from mv sister? "
36 Rich and Humble, or
" That is precisely what 1 mean, Mr. Richard,
only I couldn't say it out in so many words, be-
cause you are the only son of Mr. Franklin Grant,
the rich broker of New York. I thank you for
helping me out with the idea."
" O, no, Ben ! You must be mistaken. Richard
would not do so mean a thing."
" I beg your pardon, Miss Bertha, but your
brother did do this mean thing; and if he is mean
enough to steal ten dollars, which was to be given
in charity, he is mean enough to lay it to the old
boatman; and I will not risk myself on shore till
the matter is cleared up."
"Ben, do you know who and what you are?'
said Richard, sternly.
" I know all about it, Mr. Richard. I am your
father's servant — your servant, if you please ; but
if I lose my place, and am sent to jail for what I
do, I will have this matter set right before I go
ashore."
" It is all right now, Ben. Put me on board of
the Greyhound, and I will say nothing more about
it." , '
" I will not. You stole the money from your
sister, and you shall return it to her before you
get out of this boat."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 37
" Let him go, Ben," remonstrated Bertha, who
began to be alarmed by the stern manner of the
old boatman.
" I would do any thing in the world for your
Miss Bertha, but I must have justice done in this
matter."
" Nonsense, Ben. I haven't got the money,"
said Richard, who was also a little alarmed at the
determined manner of the boatman.
" You have got it, Mr. Richard, and you must
give it up."
" I say I have not got it. Doesn't that satisfy
you?"
" It does not. If you haven't got it, you will
not object to turning out your pockets."
" I have got ten dollars, of course. I told you
I had."
"Where did you get it?"
" Didn't I tell you that I borrowed it of Bob
Bleeker?"
" You didn't borrow a dollar of Bob Bleeker,"
answered Ben, placing himself by the side of the
youth.
"Dare you tell me that I lie?"
" I dare tell you anything that is true. Will
you show me the contents of your pockets, or
not?"
38 Rich and Humble, or
" I will not/' replied Richard, stoutly.
The boatman made no reply, but taking Richard
by the collar, he jerked him into the middle of the
boat, and, in spite of his kicks and struggles,
thrust his hand into the boy's coat pocket, and
took therefrom his porte-monnaie. He then re-
leased him, and opened the wallet.
It contained two half eagles!
" Here is the money you lost, Miss Bertha."
V v /
"Why, Richard Grant!' exclaimed Bertha,
" how could you do such a thing? '
" That is not your money, Berty. I borrowed
it of Bob Bleeker," stammered Richard, whose
face was now as pale as a sheet.
" Mr. Richard, would you be willing to go over
with me and ask Bob Bleeker if he lent you ten
dollars?"
" Of course I would, if I had the time."
" Sit down, Mr. Richard, and I will tell you a
story ; " and Ben proceeded to relate what had oc-
curred in the saloon of Bob Bleeker. " Are you
satisfied, Miss Bertha?"
" I am. O Richard, how could you do such a
thing!"
" I didn't do it."
" Let me see the half eagles, Ben. I remember
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 39
the date of one of them, and I looked at them so
much that I think I should know them again."
Ben handed her the gold pieces, and she was
forced to acknowledge that they were the coins
she had lost. The one whose date she remembered
had a spot upon it, which enabled her to identify
it.
" O Richard ! " said she, bursting into tears. " I
did not think YOU had sunk so low! What will
i/
become of YOU ? "
V
" I suppose I must run away and go to sea, or
do something of that kind. My reputation is
spoiled here."
" Oh, no, Richard ! Promise to be a better boy,
and Ben and I will not say a word about this."
t/
" Ben has insulted and outraged me."
" Sorry for it, Mr. Richard, but I couldn't help
it. The matter is cleared up now, and I haven't
any thing more to say."
"You will not mention this, Ben — will you?'
pleaded Bertha. " Dick is sorry for it, and he
will always be a good boy."
" I never talk about family matters, Miss Ber-
tha. Whatever happens, I shall never say a word
about this affair," replied Ben, as, with a few vig-
orous strokes of his oars, he placed the boat along-
side the Greyhound.
4o Rich and Humble, or
Richard, stupefied at the suddenness with which
his guilt had found him out, stepped mechanic-
ally from one boat into the other, hardly knowing
what he was doing. Not only had he been con-
victed of the base act of stealing from his sister,
but he was deprived of the means of attending
the race. He felt as if some terrible disaster was
impending, and threw himself into the stern
sheets of his boat, and covered his face with his
hands.
" Now, Miss Bertha, I will row you up to the
Glen in double-quick time."
" I don't like to leave Richard, now. He must
feel dreadfully."
" I hope he does. It will do him good to spend
a few hours upon the stool of repentance. Leave
him to himself for a while, Miss Bertha."
" But perhaps he will do some desperate thing,
Ben. He may run away, as he threatened."
" No, he won't. He hasn't the courage to run
away. He knows what going to sea means, and a
young gentleman like him won't do any such
thing," said Ben, as he bent upon his oars, and
the boat glided away in the direction of the Glen.
In a few moments, Ben landed his fair young
charge in the midst of her anxious disciples.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 41
" Now, if YOU like, Miss Bertha, I will pull
back, and keep an eye on Mr. Richard."
" Do, Ben."
"Shall he stay about home to-day?' asked
Ben, with a quiet smile on his bronzed features.
" You cannot keep him at home if he chooses
to go away."
" Oh, yes, I can, Miss Bertha," answered the
boatman, confidently. " If you only say the word,
Miss Bertha, he shall stay at home; and he will
mind me just like a whipped kitten."
" Don't be too hard with him, Ben."
" O, bless you, no ! I will handle him as gently
as I would a basket of eggs; but he shall mind
me, if you say the word. It is none of my busi-
ness, but I don't like to see a fine boy, like Mas-
ter Richard, going to ruin and destruction for the
want of a steady hand at the helm."
" Do as you think best, Ben, but don't let any
harm come to him."
" I won't, Miss Bertha," replied the boatman, as
be shoved off, and pulled towards Woodville.
Ben had once been a boatswain in the navy,
and was accustomed to rigid discipline. He un-
derstood Richard's case exactly, and he had often
regretted that he was not authorized to train him
42 Rich and Humble, or
tip in the way he should go. The father was igno-
rant of his dissolute life, and the boatman enter-
tained some doubts whether Mr. Grant had the
nerve to discipline him as the case demanded.
Bertha was a power and an influence at Wood-
ville, and Ben knew that whatever she counselled
would be ratified at head-quarters.
Kichard was still lying on the cushions of the
Greyhound when Ben returned from the Glen.
Without seeming to notice the young reprobate,
the boatman kept one eye upon him, while his
hands were busied in carving a snake's head upon
the end of a new tiller for the four-oar boat.
There we will leave them, the watcher and the
watched, and return to the Glen.
" We thought you never would come," said one
of the little savages, as Bertha walked up to the
Retreat with them.
The Retreat was an arbor, which was com-
pletely covered with vines, and in which seats had
been built by the ingenuity of Ben, the boatman,
who was almost as much interested in Bertha's
mission as she was herself.
" Now, take your seats, children. I hope you
have all got your lessons well, for we have a great
deal to do to-day."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 43
In a moment, each of the little savages took
a seat, and produced the book which Bertha had
furnished. They read, spelled, and recited arith-
metic to the entire satisfaction of the teacher.
Xew lessons were assignee1 for the next day, and
then Bertha proceeded to open the bundles of dry
goods.
" Here is a calico dress for each of the girls,
and here is some jean to make jackets and trou-
sers for the boys. We must be as busy as bees
and have them all made up this week."
The eyes of the little boys and girls sparkled
with delight at this display of treasures. A
Broadway belle or a Chestnut Street dandy could
not have been more enraptured at the latest im-
portation from Paris, than the poor children of
Dunk's Hollow were at the sight of the homely
material of which their new clothes were to be
made.
But the more serious part of the work was yet
to be done, and consisted in the cutting and fitting
of the garments. Ever since the brilliant idea of
supplying her flock with new clothes had entered
the fertile brain of Bertha, she had studied and
practised the dressmaker's art, under the tuition
of Mrs. Green, the housekeeper, who had kindly
44 Rich and Humble, or
afforded her all the instruction she needed. She
had also procured patterns for the jackets and
trousers, and patiently examined some of her
brother's old clothes; for she was determined that
the outfit of the savages should be fashioned en-
tirely by her own hands.
With a confidence worthy the pioneer mind of a
Columbus, she tore off the breadths for the dresses,
and set the girls at work in running them to-
gether. Then, with the same zeal and self-pos-
session, she proceeded to fit the waist of Gretchy
Von Brunt, who was about as thick as she was
long, and not exactly a model of female elegance
in form. It was a trying experiment for a begin-
ner, but for what the chief operator lacked in skill
and experience, she made up in zeal and hope.
At twelve o'clock Ben came up with a basket
of provisions for the busy troop of workers. He
reported that Richard was as tame as a lamb, and
had gone in to dinner when the bell rang. He
did not think there was any danger of his doing a
desperate deed. But Bertha insisted that he
should return, and not lose sight of him till his
father came home from the city. As he had been
instructed in the morning, Ben brought up Ber-
tha's boat, in which she intended to row back her-
self, when the labors of the day were finished.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 45
While the girls were busily engaged upon their
dresses, and the boys were bringing stones to make
a walk from the landing place to the Retreat, a
slight rustling was heard in the bushes, near the
spot where the dinner things had been left.
" Hoo ! Hoo ! Hoo ! ' were the cries which im-
mediately issued from the bushes.
It sounded like the scream of some wild bird;
but neither Bertha nor her flock were frightened
by the noise, though all of them left their work,
and hastened to the spot from which it pro-
ceeded.
" It's Noddy Newman," said Griffy Von Grunt,
the largest of the three boys composing the mis-
sion school — a stout, fat little Dutchman, of ten
years of age.
" He has stolen what was left of the dinner,"
added Bridget McGee.
" And he will steal Miss Bertha's boat," said
Billy Ball, as he and Griffy hastened down to the
landing place, intending by a flank movement to
protect the property of the mistress.
" He may have the dinner, if he will not carry
off the basket and the plates," added Bertha.
' Noddy ! Noddy ! Come here a moment ; I want
to see you," called she, as loud as she could.
40 Rich and Humble, or
" No, you don't," replied the wild boy who had
caused this sudden commotion. " None of your
u
spelling books for me. I like your dinner, but I
don't want any of your learning."
Noddy Newman was now in view of the party.
He was even more ragged and dirty than the rag-
gedest and dirtiest of the Dunk's Hollowites. He
wore nothing but a shirt and trousers with one
suspender, and a straw hat, of which less than one
fourth of the original brim remained. Though he
was said to be thirteen years old, he was smaller
in stature than Griffv Yon Grunt; but he was as
t /
agile and quick as a monkey.
Noddy had no parents. They had lived at the
Hollow till filth and dissipation ended their days.
Since their death, Noddy had taken care of him-
self; sleeping in barns and outbuildings at night,
and begging or stealing food enough to keep him
alive.
" Come to me, Noddy," repeated Bertha. " I
won't hurt you."
" I know you won't. You can't ! ' roared the
wild boy, as he bounded off, with the speed of an
antelope, towards the river, ending his flight by
running up a large tree which overhung the water.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 47
48 Rich and Humble, or
CHAPTER IV.
IN WHICH BERTHA DOES SOMETHING TOWARDS
CIVILIZING NODDY NEWMAN.
BENEATH the tree in which Noddy Newman had
taken refuge lay moored a nondescript craft, in
which the wild boy made his aquatic excursions.
It had once been a sugar-box, and by what art or
skill the little savage had made it water-tight, it
would have puzzled the calkers and gravers of
the region to determine. It certainly floated, and
Noddy navigated it about the river with as much
t-
pride and satisfaction as if it had been the fairy
barge of Cleopatra. It was fastened by a string to
one of the overhanging branches of the tree in
which its adventurous skipper was now lodged.
It was pretty evident, from the position of his
boat, that he had not landed in the ordinary way,
but had drawn himself up into the tree, and come
ashore in that manner. To Bertha and her young
companions it was a daring undertaking to em-
bark in the sugar-box by the way of the tree,
and she begged him not to attempt it.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 49
" Come down, Noddy, and I will put you into
your boat."
u I ain't one of your children. I don't have any
thing to do with your reading and spelling, and
you needn't borrow any trouble about ine."
" But some of the branches are rotten, and if
you should fall upon the rocks below, it would
kill you."
" I ain't going to fall. I know better than that
without anv book larnin'."
!/
" Do come down, Noddy. I will give you some-
thing if you will," pleaded Bertha, who, besides
being alarmed for his safety, wished to converse
with him, and induce him to join the school in
the Glen.
Noddy had thus far resisted all overtures in this
direction, and had never allowed himself to come
near enough to Bertha to enable her to exercise
any influence upon him. He was fond of his free-
dom, and evidently enjoyed the vagabond life he
led. The authorities of Whitestone had once made
an effort to commit him to the almshouse; but
when an attempt wras made to catch him, he dis-
appeared for some weeks.
Bertha had sent him several presents, with mes-
sages urging him to join her little flock; but he
50 Rich and Humble, or
never came to the Glen when she was there, un-
less it was to rob the basket of the provisions
brought for the scholars. Yet she did not abandon
all hope of winning him over from the savage life
he led.
" Have you had dinner enough, Noddy? "
" Yes, I have. I ate all there was in the bas-
ket," replied Noddy, chuckling with delight at the
thought of his own cleverness.
"Won't you come down and talk with me? I
will give you something."
" I don't want any thing."
" Come down and talk with me, then."
" I haven't got any thing to say," laughed
Noddy.
" But I want to see you."
" I don't want to see you. You are the proud
girl from Woodville, and I don't want any thing
of you."
" I am not proud, Noddy."
" Well, you are rich."
" Come down to me, and I will give you a silver
ten cent piece."
"Don't want it; if I should go to buy any
thing with it, they would catch me and put me
in the workhouse."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 51
"Don't YOU want a knife? I will give you
mine, if you will go up to the arbor with me."
" I have got a better knife now than you have.
I took it from Bob Bleeker's boat."
" But it was wrong to take it without leave."
" I don't know but it was. If it was I can't
help it."
As he spoke these words, Noddy began to move
down to the branch from which he could drop
into his boat. As he did so, a rotten limb which
he had grasped with his hands suddenly snapped,
his feet slipped from the branch, and he fell, strik-
ing with such force upon the sugar-box craft, that
one of its sides was split off. The unfortunate
boy rolled from the boat, and went into the deep
water. A sharp cry issued from his mouth, as he
struck the board, and then disappeared beneath
the surface of the river.
" Mercy ! ' screamed Bertha, paralyzed with
horror, as she witnessed the sad mishap.
" Never fear, Miss Bertha ; he can swim like a
fish," said Griffy Yon Grunt. ',
" But the fall may have killed him,'7 gasped
Bertha, as she summoned strength enough to run
to her boat, which was moored a short distance
from the spot.
52 Rich and Humble, or
At the same time, Griffy leaped into the river,
and swam to the sugar-box. In a moment Noddy
rose to the surface; but he did not attempt to
swim, and it was evident that the fall had de-
prived him of the use of his powers. As he rose,
Griffj- seized him by the arm, and held him above
the water till Bertha came up with the boat.
With no little difficulty they lifted him in; but the
little savage appeared to be dead. On his temple
there was a deep cut, which had probably been
caused by the nails driven into the side of the
box, to answer for thole pins.
"What shall we do?" stammered Bertha, ter-
ribly frightened by the pale face and motionless
form of the poor boy. " I will take him down to
the house. Griffy, you may go with me, and the
rest of you may go home."
The children were appalled by the fearful acci-
dent, and could not say a word. Only Griffy
seemed to have his thoughts about him, and while
Bertha attempted to bind up the bleeding head of
Noddy, he rowed with all his might towards the
pier at Woodville. Ben was in the boat house
when they arrived, and taking the insensible boy
in his arms, carried him up to the house, and laid
him upon the bed, in Bertha's chamber.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 53
" Now, Ben, go over to Whitestone as fast as
you can, and bring the doctor."
" Yes, Miss Bertha ; but I don't think the boy
is very badly hurt. That knock on the head has
taken away his senses ; but he will be all right in
a few hours. You can't kill a boy like that so
easilv."
w
" Go quick, Ben. I am afraid he is dead now."
" O, bless you ! no, he isn't. Don't be frightened,
Miss Bertha. Here comes Mrs. Green."
The housekeeper's opinion coincided with that
of the boatman, that Noddy was not dangerously
injured. She was an experienced nurse, and pro-
ceeded to take such measures for the relief of the
sufferer as the case required. Before the doctor
arrived, the patient began to exhibit some signs of
consciousness. He opened his eyes, and gazed
around the room with a bewildered stare. The
costly furniture was in strong contrast with any!
thing he had ever before seen, and it was no
wonder that he was bewildered.
As if conscious that he was not in his proper
element, he suddenly attempted to rise, but sank
back upon the bed with a deep groan, and closed
his eyes again. The arrival of the doctor was
gladly welcomed by Bertha. After a patient ex-
54 Rich and Humble, or
animation, he declared that the boy was badly
hurt; that three of his ribs were fractured, and
that he was probably injured internally.
Before evening Noddy was in full possession of
his senses, but was suffering intense pain. Bertha
remained by his side, ministering to all his wants
with as much zeal and interest as though the
patient had been her own brother.
When Mr. Grant came home, he found his
daughter bending over the sick bed of the friend-
less outcast, and then, more than ever before, he
realized what a treasure he possessed in this dar-
ling child. Richard was proud and haughty, but
Bertha was a friend to the poor ; humble even in
possession of all the luxury and splendor which
the world can afford.
Mr. Grant listened with pleasure to Bertha's
narrative of the events of the day. Of the con-
duct of her brother in the morning she said
nothing, for she had decided to wait till necessity
compelled her to do so. She hoped Richard would
reform his life, and as he had given up the race,
she was encouraged to believe that he was taking
the first steps towards amendment.
The next day Noddy was feverish, and for a
week he suffered a great deal. Bertha took care
The Mission of Bertha Grant. - 55
of him most of the time during the day, while
Ben and the housekeeper attended him at night.
Every day the boatman brought the children of
the school from the Glen to the house, where, with
the assistance of Mrs. Green and the chamber-
maids, the garments of the boys and girls were
completed, and as soon as Noddy began to im-
prove, Bertha gave them a picnic on Van Alstine's
Island.
But the sick boy was not willing that his
little nurse should leave him. His severe sickness
seemed to have produced a wonderful effect upon
him. It softened his heart, and made him more
human than he had ever been before. He had
became strongly attached to Bertha, and listened
attentively to the gentle lessons of wisdom with
which she improved the hours of his convales-
cence.
It was a fortnight before he was able to sit up,
and a month before he could go out of the house ;
but much of the spirit of his life and character
had returned to him, and he longed for the health
and strength which would enable him to roam the
fields and forests, and sail upon the river, as he
had done before his fall.
" I shall be so glad to be well again ! ' ex-
56 Rich and Humble, or
claimed he, as he walked on the lawn one day
with Bertha.
" What will you do then ? "
" I shall run, and climb, and sail, as I used to
do; but I will go to your school, Miss Bertha."
" Don't you want to do something better than
spend your time in idleness?'
" What can I do ? "
" You can learn to be a useful and respectable
man."
" I don't think I shall ever be of any use to
any one but myself. It was queer that I fell that
day, after I had told you I knew enough not
to fall."
. " It was all for the best, Noddy."
" I don't believe that. How could it be best
for me to stave in my ribs, and lie here, like a
fool, for a month ? '
" Perhaps it will prove to be the best thing that
ever happened to you."
" You don't mean so, Miss Bertha," said the
pale boy, with a smile.
" I do, Noddy. Our misfortunes are blessings to
us; and we ought to be as thankful for them as
for the prosperity we enjoy. If you had continued
your wild life much longer, you would probably
have been taken up and sent to prison."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 57
Noddy made no reply, but kept thinking of
•what Bertha had said. He could not fully compre-
hend such wisdom, though he could not help be-
lieving that his coming to Woodville was a great
event in his life. His fair instructress improved
the advantage she had obtained, and the little
savage was already more than half civilized.
During the month that Noddy had been confined
to the house, Richard did not once visit White-
stone, or meet any of his former dissolute compan-
ions; but whether this was from mortification at
his failure to sail the Greyhound with Tom Mul-
len, or because he had really commenced upon a
new life, was a matter of painful doubt to Bertha.
His father steadily refused to supply him with
money, and he spent most of the time at home.
He would not permit any allusion to the half
eagles, either by his sister or the boatman.
He was gloomy and taciturn. When he used
the Greyhound, he did not go near the other
side of the river, and carefully avoided meeting
any other boats, especially those belonging to
Whitestone. One day, as he was sailing near the
island, he observed a great commotion on board of
a passing steamer, and soon ascertained that a
man had fallen overboard. Trimming his sails, he
58 Rich and Humble, or
bore down upon the spot, and succeeded in saving
the stranger from a watery grave.
In the gratitude of his heart, the gentleman pre-
sented him with fifty dollars in gold, as he landed
him on the pier at Whitestone, where the steamer
had made a landing.
" Your name, young man," said the gentleman.
" John Green," replied Richard, after some hesi-
tation.
" God bless you, John Green ! I shall remem-
ber your name as long as I live," added the
stranger, as he shook him warmly by the hand,
and hastened on board of the steamer.
"John Green!' muttered Richard to himself,
as he turned the bow of his boat towards Wood-
vine. " I'm rich now, and that boat race shall
come off yet."
If any one had asked Richard why he had given
a false name to the gentleman whose life he had
saved, his pride would not have permitted him to
acknowledge the meanness of the motive which
prompted the falsehood. It was that he might
conceal the fact of possessing so large a sum of
money from the family at Woodville.
The next day, the Greyhound made another visit
to Wliitestone, and the terms of the contest be-
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 59
tween the two boats were arranged. Richard ex-
cused his long absence upon the plea that he had
been sick, and his graceless companions were too
glad to see him again to find much fault. The
race was to take place in three days, and the
stakes were placed in the hands of Bob Bleeker,
who was to act as umpire upon the great occasion.
On the day before the race, Richard had the
bottom of the Greyhound cleaned, her sails and
ropes carefully adjusted, and every thing done that
would add a particle to his chance of winning the
regatta. This time he kept his own counsel, and
did not even tell Ben of the coming race.
The fifty dollars in his pocket had brought a
great change in the manner of Richard. He was
no longer dull and gloomy, but full of life and
energy. None of the family or the servants knew
it was he who had saved the stranger from drown-
ing, and with all the neighborhood, had wondered
who John Green was. No one had ever heard of
him before, and the more they wondered, the more
Richard chuckled over his own cunning and de-
ception.
When Richard had completed his preparations
for the race, he sat in the stern-sheets of the
Greyhound, thinking of the triumph he was so
confident of winning.
60 Rich and Humble, or
" Richard ! Eichard ! " called Bertha from the
pier.
"What do yon want, Berty?"
" Father hasn't conie home."
"Well, what of it?"
" The train has arrived, and he did not come in
it. Where do you suppose he is?' continued
Bertha, as she stepped into her boat, and rowed
to the Greyhound.
" I don't know. Perhaps he was talking politics,
and forgot to get out at the station," replied Rich-
ard, indifferently.
" No ; Mr. Barton said he was not in the cars."
" He is safe enough."
" He has looked very sad and troubled for
several days. I am afraid something has hap-
pened," added Bertha, as she pulled back to the
wharf.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 61
CHAPTER V.
IN WHICH BERTHA HEARS GOOD NEWS AND BAD NEWS.
THE return of her father from the city was
a happy event to Bertha, and she was always the
first to greet him on his arrival. It was an every-
day occurrence, but it lost none of its interest
on this account. He was the only parent she had,
and his smile, as she welcomed him home, was
worth all the watching and waiting which it cost.
When, therefore, on that eventful evening, the
man who had gone to drive him up from the rail-
road station returned without him, gloomy fore-
bodings filled her mind. Her father was very regu-
lar and methodical in his habits, and had never
missed a train, or remained away over night with-
out announcing his intention to do so beforehand.
This fact, added to the sad and anxious look which
Mr. Grant had worn for several days, was enough
to awaken painful thoughts, even in a mind less
sensitive than that of Bertha.
The long, gloomy night wore away without any
62 Rich and Humble, or
tidings from the absent father. Richard slept, and
Fanny slept, but Bertha scarcely closed her eyes,
so deeply was she impressed with the dread of
some coming calamity. Long before sunrise, she
left her chamber, and wandered up and down the
walks upon the lawn, trying to make herself be-
lieve that nothing had happened to her father.
" Why, Miss Bertha, how pale you are this
morning !' exclaimed Noddy, as he met her on
the lawn, after the first bell had rung. " Are you
sick?"
" No, Noddy, I am not sick."
" What ails you, then ? Is it because your
father did not come home last night?'
" Not because he did not come home, but be-
cause I fear something has happened to him."
" Well, I am glad I haven't got any father to
bother me like that ! I never had any trouble
about my relations," laughed Noddy.
" You must not talk so, Noddy ; it does not
sound well. If you had a good and kind father,
as I have, he would be a great joy to you."
" But your father don't seem to be a great joy to
you just now," added Noddy, whose philosophy
had been developed at the expense of his affections.
" Yes, he is ; and even if I knew that he were
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 63
dead " — and Bertha shuddered as she uttered the
words — " the remembrance of his love and kind-
ness would still be a great joy to me."
" Well, I don't understand those things, and I
suppose I ought not to say any thing about them,"
said Noddy, as he observed the great tear that
slid down the pale cheek of Bertha. " There's
going to be a race to-day."
"What kind of a race?"
" Mr. Richard is going to race with Tom Mul-
len. Each one put up five dollars, and Bob
Bleeker has got the money."
Bertha was shocked at this piece of news, for
it assured her that her brother had never made a
resolution to abandon his evil associates, or that
he had broken it.
u Are you sure of what you say, Noddy ? '
" Yes ; I am certain of it. Tom Mullen told
me all about it yesterday."
" Where did you see him? '
" I saw him on the river. You know you lent
me your boat to go up to the island, and I met
him on my way back. The reason why he told
me was, that he wanted to know what Mr. Rich-
ard had been doing to his boat, to make her sail
faster."
64 Rich and Humble, or
The conversation was interrupted by the ringing
of the breakfast bell. Bertha noticed that Rich-
ard was more than usually excited. He hurried
through the morning meal, and hastened down to
the wharf, vv^hither Bertha followed him, and
joined him on board the Greyhound.
" I wish you would take the morning train to
the city, Richard, and ascertain what has become
of father," said Bertha, as she stepped into the
sail boat. " I feel almost sure something has hap-
pened to him."
" I can't go to-day," replied Richard, impa-
tiently.
"Why not, Dick?"
" Because I can't. I think that is reason
enough."
" How rude you are ! If you felt as badly as I
do, you would be glad to go."
"Badly? Why should you feel badly? Don't
you think father is old enough, and knows enough^
to take care of himself? '
" You know he has the heart complaint,,
and "
Bertha could not complete her sentence, for
there was in her mind a vivid picture of her father
lying dead in his office, where he might have
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 65
fallen when there was no one near to help him, or
even to witness his expiring agony. She burst
into tears and wept in silence, with the awful
picture still before her mental vision. Richard,
disturbed by none of his sister's doubts or fears,
coolly cast loose the sails of the Greyhound, and
made his preparations for the exciting event of
the day. Bertha continued to weep, without his
sympathy or even his notice, for a time.
" My poor father! " sobbed Bertha.
" What are you crying about, Berty? '
" I am almost certain that something has hap-
pened to father. He never stayed away over night
before without letting us know where he was."
" O, nonsense ! He is full of business, and some-
thing has detained him. If he were sick, or any
thing worse had happened to him, we should
have heard of it before this time. I tell you it is
all right."
" Even if it is all right, it will do no harm to
ascertain the fact. You can go to the city this
morning, and return by the noon train," said Ber-
tha, whose anxiety for her father had over-
shadowed every thing else, and even made her for-
get the race of which Noddy had told her.
" I told you I couldn't go this morning," an-
66 Rich and Humble, or
swered he, petulantly. " Why don't you go your-
self?"
" I cannot leave to-day. Fanny is to have her
party this afternoon."
" Well, I can't go, and it is of no use to talk
about it. I have an engagement that I must keep."
" I hope you are not going with that wicked
Tom Mullen again," added she, as Noddy's un-
pleasant intelligence recurred to her mind.
" I don't want any preaching."
" You are going with those boys again ! O
Richard! I beg of you, do not."
" What's the matter now ? " sneered Richard.
" Stay at home to-day with me, Richard. You
don't know how lonely and sad I feel."
" The more fool you ! '
" How unkind you are, Dick ! '
"Come, Berty, don't whine any more; that's a
good girl," said he, changing his tone as policy,
rather than feeling, seemed to dictate. " If father
doesn't come home before three o'clock, and you
don't hear from him, I will agree to go to the
city by the afternoon train, and find out where he
is. Positively, Berty, that is the best I can do.
Now, be a good girl, Berty, and go ashore, or
you won't be ready for Fanny's party,"
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 67
" I feel almost as bad for you as I do for
father," sobbed Bertha.
" Why, what under the canopy of Jupiter has
got into you now?" exclaimed Richard, suspend-
ing his work, and looking in her face with aston-
ishment.
" I know you are going to do something wrong
to-day, Dick."
" Do you, indeed ? Then you are a long way
ahead of my time. What do you mean? '
" You are going to sail your boat against Tom
Mullen's."
"Who told you that?"
"Isn't it so, Dick?"
" Well, suppose it is ; what then ? There is no
great harm in racing boats, I hope."
" And you have put up five dollars, as a bet, on
the race."
"Who told you this?"
"Is it true, Dick?"
"Perhaps it is, and perhaps it isn't; what
then?"
" You don't answer me, Dick ! "
" Did you ever hear of such a thing as a race
for nothing?' answered he, sullenly. "I would
give another five dollars to know who told you
this."
68 Rich and Humble, or
" Money seems to be very plenty with you,
though father hasn't given you any for six or seven
weeks."
" Now, vou have said enough, Bertv, and vou
7 i/ t^J / c- / f
may go ashore. Do you think I am going to
listen to your preaching, and have you domineer
over me, like that? If you don't leave the boat
I will help you ashore," said Richard, who was
now so angry that he had lost control of himself.
" Don't be angry, Richard. You are my brother
and you know I would not willingly offend you."
" That's just what you are doing."
" But you are going with those bad boys again.
You are taking your first steps in gambling. If
you knew how bad these things make me feel,
vou wouldn't be cross to me. I don' want to
•>
have my brother like Tom Mullen."
" Now, shut up ! Don't whine any more over
me. I am able to take care of myself, and I
t/ /
don't want a sermon from you every time you hap-
pen to have the blues."
" Where did you get the money, Dick, to bet
on the race ? '
" That's none of your business," replied Richard
rudelv. " Do you mean to hint that I stole it? "
i. t/
' I hope not, Dick."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 69
" If you haven't any better opinion of me than
that, you had better hold your tongue."
" You remember the other time, when you were
going to have this race with Tom Mullen? You
know what you were tempted to do that time? '
" That was father's money, and just as much
mine as it was yours. You wouldn't lend me the
money, and you see what you made me do."
" I only wanted to keep you away from those
boys. If father were at home, you know he
wouldn't let you go."
" He couldn't help himself," growled Richard ;
" and you can't ; so you may as well go into the
house, and hold your tongue."
" Won't you give up this race for my sake,
Richard? " pleaded the poor girl, whose solicitude
was now divided between her father and her
brother.
" Xo, I won't ! All the teasing, scolding, preach-
ing, fretting, and threatening in the world won't
make me back out this time."
" At least tell me where you got the money
that you put up."
" I won't do that, either," said Richard, stoutly.
" I came honestly by it, and that's enough for you
to know. You need not scold or threaten any
more, but go home."
70 Rich and Humble, or
" I haven't threatened you," sighed Bertha •
" you know I didn't tell father about the ten dol-
lars."
" I know you didn't ; but you told him I went
with Torn Mullen and the rest of the fellows, and
that was just as bad."
" I did it for your good."
" If you won't go ashore, I will ! " said Richard,
angrily, as he jumped into his skiff and paddled
to the wharf as fast as he could.
Poor Bertha, trembling for her father and her
brother, was sorely tried by the unfeeling conduct
of the latter. She could do nothing to restore the
one or redeem the other. Richard would go,
though she had done all she could to prevent him
from doing so. As she sat weeping in the boat,
she tried to think of some plan to keep Richard
at home. She knew that Ben could do it; that
he would even lock him up in the boat house, if
she wished him to do so; but she was unwilling
to resort to extreme measures.
Whatever else might be, it was certain that cry-
ing would do no good; and summoning all her
resolution, she dried her tears, and determined to
make the best of her trying situation. Stepping
iiato the boat, she rowed to the shore. Her reso-
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 71
lution was already imparting new courage to her
soul, and she felt that she could endure all that
might be in store for her. But she did not aban-
don her purpose to save her brother. He had
left her in anger, and she hoped, when he became
himslf again, that he would hear her.
As she passed up the path towards the house,
where Eichard had gone, she saw Ben hastening
towards her with all the speed his rheumatic
joints would permit. As he approached he held up
a letter, which caused Bertha's heart to beat with
hope and fear.
" Here is a letter, Miss Bertha. The hand-
writing is your father's ; so I suppose nothing has
happened to him," said Ben, as he gave her the
letter.
"I hope not. Where did you get it?' asked
Bertha, as she tore open the envelope.
" The conductor on the morning train brought
it up."
Bertha's face lighted up with pleasure as she
read the first line ; but as she proceeded with the
letter, her expression changed, and the shade of
sadness deepened into a look of grief and alarm.
The letter was as follows : —
72 Rich and Humble, or
"NEW YORK CITY, August 12.
" MY DEAR CHILDREN : An unexpected event de-
tained ine in the city last night, and prevented
me from sending you any word that I could not
go home as usual; but I am alive and well, and
I hope my unexplained absence did not cause you
any anxiety or alarm.
" But, my dear children, the event to which I
allude promises the most serious consequences to
me in my business relations, and before many days
you may be called upon to share with me the tri-
als and misfortunes from which only a few men in
active business life can be exempted. You may
be compelled to give up the comforts and lux-
uries of our elegant home; but while your father
retains his honor and integrity, can you not bear
with him the loss of every thing else? I do not
yet know the extent of my misfortune, and I have
only mentioned it that you might the sooner learn
to endure with patience the change to which we
must submit.
" I shall not be able to go home to-night or to-
morrow night — perhaps not for several days. I
am much distressed by the aspect of my business
affairs ; but it would be a great relief to me, when
I do go home, to find that my children have the
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 73
courage to endure the heavy blow that has conie
upon us. Be patient and hopeful, and all will vet
be well with us.
Your affectionate father,
FRANKLIN GRANT."
Bertha was astonished and bewildered by the
contents of this letter. She told the boatman that
her father was alive and well ; but she deemed it
prudent to conceal the rest of the letter from him
for the present. The bad news it contained would
travel fast enough, without any assistance from
her.
While reading the letter, she had seen Richard
come out of the house and walk off in another
direction. She asked Ben to find him, and send
him to the house, where she went herself, rejoiced
to find her worst fears were not realized, but al-
most stunned by the shock which the letter had
given her. It was terrible to think of leaving
Woodville; to step down from the pinnacle of
wealth to the low level of poverty; but, as she
had been rich and humble, the fall would be a
gentle one to her; yet how terrible to Richard
and Fanny!
Richard read the letter, turned pale, and won-
74 Rich and Humble, or
dered what it all meant. Bertha said it was plain
that her father had failed in business. She was
calm and resigned, he was morose and sullen. i
" You will not go to the race now, Dick? " she
a^sked.
" I will ! " and he rushed out of the house, down
the hill, to the wharf ; but when he got there, noth- ,
ing but the topmast of the Greyhound could be
seen.
She had sunk in fifteen feet of water !
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 75
CHAPTER VI.
IN WHICH BERTHA REASONS WITH HER BROTHER AND
THE GREYHOUND FLOATS AGAIN.
THE rage of Richard knew no bounds when he
discovered the topmast of the Greyhound, with the
little tri-colored flag still flaunting upon it, rising
but a few feet above the waves of the Hudson.
There she had floated, as gayly and as buoyantly
as a swan, only an hour before. But there was
no one near to hear his exclamations of wrath
and disappointment, as he beheld the ruin of all
his hopes for that day. I am sorry to add that
he swore roundly ; but a boy who could associate
with rowdies and blacklegs would not be too nice
to use profane language.
While he was still venting his impotent frenzy,
Ben arrived at the wharf. The boatman had not
discovered the calamity which had befallen the
Greyhound till he reached the wharf, for the
gloomy expression of Bertha still haunted his
mind, and he was wondering what had happened
to cover with shadows the face which was wont
76 Rich and Humble, or
to be all sunshine. When he raised his eyes from
the ground, and looked off upon the water, — as an
old sailor always does when he first comes near the
sea, or on deck from below, — he saw the flaunting
flag of the Greyhound, fifteen feet lower down
than when he had last looked upon it, and he
appeared to be quite as much surprised as Rich-
ard.
"Ben, who did that?'1 roared Richard, as the
boatman moved out to the end of the wharf.
He was almost bursting with anger and vexa-
tion ; and no doubt his mind was filled with sus-
picions and conjectures in regard to the author of
this mischief, for he had already come to the con-
clusion that it had an author, as the Grevhound
/ t>
would never have done so mean a thing as to
sink without assistance.
Ben wTas an elderly man, and he had always
been treated with consideration and respect by
Mr. Grant and all his household; therefore he
felt that the tone with which " Mr. Richard " ad-
dressed him was not proper, or even tolerable.
" I don't know, Mr. Richard," replied the boat-
man, in a gruff, man-of-war tone, and without even
condescending to express any regret or surprise
at the singular event.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 77
"If I knew who did it, I would kill him!"
foamed Richard.
" Then it is lucky for him that you don't know/'
added Ben, rather coolly.
" She didn't sink herself."
" I didn't say she did, Mr. Richard."
"Then who did it?"
" I don't know."
" Yes, you do know ; and if you don't tell me,
I'll hold you responsible for it," said Richard with
an emphasis which ought to have produced a
startling effect upon the old boatman.
But it did not appear to produce any effect; for
Ben hitched up his long blue trousers, turned upon
his heel, and slowly walked off.
" Why don't you answer me, Ben ? '
" I haven't any thing to say, Mr. Richard," re-
plied the old man, continuing his walk up the
wharf.
" How dare you turn your back upon me in
that manner? Come back here, and answer my
questions."
As Ben would not come back, Richard went to
him, and, with clinched fists, placed himself in
front of the old boatman, as though he meant
to thrash him on the spot for his impudence. If
78 Rich and Humble, or
Richard had been himself, as his humpbacked
namesake declared he was on a certain occasion,
he would not have ventured into this belligerent
attitude. He was beside himself with passion, and
there was neither wisdom nor discretion left in
him.
" Mr. Richard," said the boatman, after he had
deliberately surveyed the youngster from head to
foot for a moment, " you are my employer's son,
and I don't want to harm you ; but I don't allow
any one to insult me. I am a poor man, but
there isn't any body in the world that is rich
enough to insult me. Now, get out of my way."
" Tell me who sunk that boat ! "
The great, broad hand of the old boatman sud-
denly dropped upon the shoulder of the youngster,
a vigorous shaking followed, and he was laid upon
the ground as gently as a mother would deposit
her babe in the cradle. That strong arm was too
much for Richard, and when he rose, he placed a
respectful distance between himself and the owner
of it.
" You did it ! I know you did ! " growled Rich-
ard. " I will pay you for it before you are many
days older."
Ben deigned no reply to this rude speech, but
walked up the lawn towards the house. On his
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 79
• i
way he was met by Bertha, who from her window
had discovered the mishap which had befallen the
Greyhound, as well as witnessed the scene we have
just described; and she was coming down to make
peace between the parties.
In a few words Ben told her what had hap-
pened, assuring her that he was entirely ignorant
of the cause of the sinking of the boat.
" Mr. Richard is very angry just now, and I
think you had better keep away from him for a
time. When he comes to himself, he and I have
an account to be squared," said Ben.
" Don't be angry with him. He will be sorry
for what he has done."
" Bless you, Miss Bertha, I'm not angry. I
couldn't get angry with a youngster like him if
I tried," added the boatman, with a benignant
smile.
" I hope not."
" Mr. Richard is a good-hearted boy, and before
he began to run with those beggarly rowdies on
the other side, he was an honest and well-meaning
boy. If I had him on board ship, a thousand
miles from the nearest land, I could make a man
of him in three days."
With this encouraging remark. Ben hitched up
8o Rich and Humble, or
his trousers again, and continued his walk towards
the house. Acting upon the suggestion of the
boatman, Bertha decided to let her brother cool
off for a while, before she went near him. The
sinking of the boat seemed like a providential
event to her, since it must prevent the race she so
much dreaded. Yet if Richard had the will to
associate with dissolute persons, even this acci-
dent could not restrain him.
She could not help asking herself, as she sat
waiting for Richard's wrath to subside, what effect
the change of fortune would have upon him. If
it saved him from the error of his ways, it would
be a blessing instead of a misfortune. Her brother
was proud, and gloried in the wealth and social
position of his father. The rowdies of White-
stone had discovered his weak point, and as long
as he paid for the oysters, cigars, — and liquors,
for aught we know, — they were willing to flatter
him, and to yield the homage he so much coveted.
Misfortune had swept away the wealth of his
father, and he was placed on a level with those
who had before looked up to him. If Mr. Grant
had the will, he had no longer the ability to fur-
nish his children with money, as he had done be-
fore. But Richard still had a large portion of the
The Mission of Bertha Grant, 81
fifty dollars left, and he was not disposed to con-
sider any of these questions. They did not even
occur to him. His mind was all absorbed by the
race.
When she thought a sufficient time had elapsed
for Richard to recover his self-possession, Bertha
joined him on the wharf, where he still sat, brood-
ing over the ruin of his hopes. He noticed Bertha
as she approached, but his interview with Ben
had evaporated the violence of his temper, and he
permitted her to be seated by his side without
utering a word.
" Richard, I am sorry you were so rude to Ben*
He is an old man, and he has always been very
kind to you," said Bertha in the gentlest tones of
peace and affection.
" He had no business to sink my boat then,"
muttered Richard.
" He did not do it."
" How do you know he didn't? '•
" He went down to the railroad station while we
were at breakfast, and did not return till after you
came on shore. He handed me the letter as I was
going up to the house, and then went for his
breakfast. He did not come down here again un-
til after you did, and then he found you here. It
is impossible that he should have done it."
82 Rich and Humble, or
" Then you must have done it yourself."
" No. Richard ; I did not. You have had vour
' «/
eves upon me ever since we landed from the
boat."
{'( You knew about the race, and wanted to pre-
vent me from going to it."
"But I did not sink your boat; neither do I
know by whom it was done."
Richard knew that Bertha always spoke the
truth, and he would as soon have doubted his own
existence as doubted her word. In spite of his
theory that she had done it, or caused it to be
done, to defeat his plans, he was compelled to be^
lieve what she said.
" I don't understand it then," said he, greatly
perplexed. " You were the last person on board
of her."
" It is as much a mystery to me as it is to you ;
but I hope you will give up this race."
" I can't do any thing else now. I put the
money up, and I suppose I have lost it."
" That is of little consequence."
"So you say; but the fellows will think I did
it to avoid the race."
"Let them think so; it won't injure you."
" But I would give a good deal to know how
it was done."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 83
" Perhaps some boat ran into her while she lay
at her moorings. How do you know that Tom
Mullen didn't do it?"
" He wouldn't do such a thing."
" He isn't any too good to do a mean action."
*
; If I thought he did do it ! ' said Richard, as
he jumped from the seat, apparently convinced
that he did do it. " Where is Ben ? I wonder if
we can't raise her, and have the race vet?"
t>
"Do you think Ben would help you now?'
asked Bertha, reproachfully.
" I am sorry for what I said to him ; but I was
fully convinced that he had done the mischief by
your order. I will beg his pardon ; " and Richard
ran up to the house, and made his peace with
Ben, which was not a difficult matter, for the old
boatman was almost a grandfather to all three of
the children.
" Certainly, Mr. Richard, I forgive you with all
my heart, and I am glad of the chance to do so,
for this thing made me feel worse than it did you.
Now we will go down and find out what made
the Greyhound go to the bottom," said Ben, as he
led the way to the wharf.
Bertha had returned to the house, to attend to
the preparations for Fanny's party, or possibly she
84 Rich and Humble, or
might have objected to any investigations in the
direction indicated. Richard did not have the
courage to ask Ben to help raise the boat ; but
when they reached the wharf, the old man went
to the boat house, and brought out sundry coils of
rigging, blocks, and other gear. Then, with the
end of a line in his hand, he stepped into Bertha's
boat with Richard, and sculled off to the place
where the Grevhound had sunk.
«.
Fastening the line to the painter of the sunken
boat, he sculled back again. On their return to
the wharf, they found Noddy there, an anxious
observer of their proceedings.
" Xoddy, do you know who sunk this boat?'
said Richard, who happened to think just then
that the little savage had been sitting on the pier
during the angry interview between himself and
Bertha.
" I expect she sunk herself," replied he, with
one of his wild leers.
" If vou know anv thine: about it, tell me at
t, i
once," added Richard, sternly.
" I don't know any thing about it.''
" Yes, you do, you little villain ! ' continued
Richard, beginning to get excited.
" Keep cool, Mr. Richard," interposed the boat-
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 85
man. " We have no time to spare in that manner.
Of course the boy don't know any thing about it.
Here, you young sculpin, run up and tell John to
bring the two plough horses down here as quick
as he can."
Noddy, whose health was now almost restored,
ran off towards the stables, chuckling as he went,
as if he was glad to escape any further questions.
Ben now sent Richard up into a large tree
which grew on the very verge of the water, where,
under the old man's directions, he fastened a
block, and passed the long line from the boat
through it. Another block was attached near the
ground, and the line run through it. By this time
the horses had come, and were hitched to the end
of the rope.
Richard was deeply interested in the operation,
and what he could not understand, the boatman
explained to him. The rope was run through the
block in the tree so as to pull the boat upwards
from the bottom of the river.
" Now start up the horses, John, very slowly,
and stop quick, when I give the order," said Ben,
as he stepped into the skiff, and paddled out to
the mast of the Greyhound. " Now, go ahead,
John," shouted he.
86 Rich and Humble, or
The horses pulled, and in a few moments the
sail boat was safely landed on the grass by the
side of the water. On examination, it was found
that the plug in the bottom had been taken out,
and greater than ever was the mystery in regard to
the author of the mischief; but Richard, elated at
the success of the boatman's labors, had ceased to
care who had sunk the boat, so intent was he upon
the prospects of the race.
The boat was baled out, and washed out, and
half an hour of sunshine restored her to her
former condition.
" Ben, I am ever so much obliged to you for
what you have done, and all the more sorry for
what happened this morning," said Richard, as
the boatman was leaving the Greyhound. " You
have saved me fom disgrace and defeat."
"Why so?"
" I am going to run the race with Tom Mullen
this morning."
" Are you? If I had known it, I wouldn't have
raised your boat to save her from destruction,"
replied Ben, with a sad look.
" Miss Bertha don't want him to go," added
Noddy, who was seated in the bow of Ben's boat.
" I heard her teasing him to give it up, and he
wouldn't."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 87
" Shut up, you young monkey ! ' said Ben.
" Boys should be seen, and not heard."
The old boatman used all the powers of his rude
eloquence to dissuade Richard from going; but
the latter prated about his faith and his honor,
and declared that he must go; and he did go.
" Poor boy ! ' sighed Ben. " He is a smart,
likely, good-hearted fellow, and it is a pity that he
should go to ruin."
" Miss Bertha cried as though her heart would
break, trying to make him give up the race. Some-
thing awful has happened to Mr. Grant, too,"
added Noddy. " I heard Miss Bertha say he had
failed, if you know what that means — I don't."
" Failed ! " gasped old Ben.
" Yes, sir : but Richard would go, and that's
the reason why I pulled the plug out, and sunk
the boat," continued Noddy, innocently.
88 Rich and Humble, or
CHAPTER VII.
IN WHICH BERTHA READS THE NEWSPAPER, AND
FAINTS AWAY.
NODDY NEWMAN'S confession promised to get
him into trouble with Richard, if he should dis-
cover that he was the cause of the mischief. Ben,
the old boatman, fully sympathized with the young
savage in what he had done; for when the latter
related the conversation between Bertha and her
brother, to which he had listened, and told how
badly he felt when Mr. Richard scolded at her,
and declared that he would go to the race, his
indignation was as deeply roused as that of the
listener had been, and he decided that it would
be better for all parties if the truth were con-
cealed.
Richard had gone to the race, and there was
nothing more that could be done to save him
from the consequences of his own foil}' and way-
wardness. Noddy was well satisfied with what he
had done, especially after the approval of Ben.
All he lived for was to please Miss Bertha, and
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 89
if he could do any thing to carry out her views,
he was not very particular to avoid displeasing
any body else. If she wished to prevent Richard
from going to the race, he was ready to sink the
boat, or even to burn and destroy it. What the
owner of her liked or disliked was a matter of no
I consequence to him.
Noddy's ideas of right and wrong, of truth and
justice, were not very clearly defined. He had no
particular devotion to the truth as such, and no
particular love of justice for its own sake. He
did not remain at Woodville because he liked the
place, after he had strength enough to return to
his former vagabond life, but because Bertha was
there. He was willing to do right, so far as he
understood it, because she desired him to do so.
It must be confessed that principle had not yet
been developed in his character. His only law
was to do what his fair and loving mistress wished
him to do, and he had no higher idea of duty
than this. He cared for no one, was afraid of no
one. Her friends were his friends, and if she had
had any foes, they would have been his foes.
Ben sat on the wharf, watching the Greyhound
as she swept forward on her course. He was sad
and dull; for the information which Noddy had
9o Rich and Humble, or
given him was full of grief to the old servant of
the family. As he reflected upon the import of the
fearful words which expressed the misfortune of
Mr. Grant, the tears gathered on his brown cheek.
" What ails you, Ben ? " asked Noddy, who was
lying upon the wharf, gazing into the face of the
boatman.
"What ails me? You young sculpin, are you
here? I thought you had gone," replied Ben,
roughly, as he wiped away the tears.
" You are crying ! '•
" Crying? Nonsense! Did you ever see an old
sailor crv?'
"~>»i
" I never did before."
" I am not crying, you little lubber ! I am get-
ting old, and my eyes are weak. The sun makes
them water a litle."
" Tell me what it is about, Ben, and perhaps I
will cry too," added Noddy, suddenly dropping his
chin, and looking as gloomy as though he had lost
his best friend.
" Run away, boy — up to the house. Miss Ber-
tha wants you to help her about the party. You
must turn somersets, stand on your head, and cut
all the capers you can this afternoon, to please the
children who will come to the party, for I think it
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 91
will be the last party the young folks will ever
have at Woodville. Go and limber up your back,
boy."
u I will do any thing Miss Bertha wants me to
do, if it is to swallow my own head, or turn in-
side out," replied Noddy, as he walked away, with
the feeling that there was a chance for him to do
something to please his young mistress.
On the way up to the house, he stopped in the
grove to practise a few gymnastic feats, for he was
not certain whether his ribs were yet in condition
to enable him to entertain a party of young ladies.
But his bones were all right, and his gyrations
would have been creditable to a travelling circus
company. When he had satisfied himself that he
was in condition to perform, he walked leisurely
up to the house to report to Bertha.
She did not give him much encouragement that
his entertainment would be an acceptable one to
the delicate young ladies who were to come from
the homes of wealth and taste in the vicinity ; but
she was pleased with his devotion — with his efforts
to do something for the amusement of the party.
During the rest of the forenoon she kept him busy
in preparing the rooms for the reception of the
company; and Noddy was never so well satisfied
92 Rich and Humble, or
as when be felt that he was doing something to
assist or amuse Bertha.
At two o'clock in the afternoon, every thing was
ready for the party. Miss Fanny was dressed like
a fairy queen; Bertha, more plainly robed, was
not less fascinating; and even Noddy Newman
was so disguised by his new clothes, that he looked
very much like a little gentleman. Two o'clock
came, and half past two, and three; but not a
single young lady who had been invited to the
party, made her appearance.
Fanny fretted, pouted, and stormed at this want
of punctuality, and even Bertha did not know
what to make of it. But when four o'clock came,
and still not a single guest appeared, Fanny gave
up to despair, and Bertha was as puzzled as
though she had been solving problems in Euclid.
Five o'clock, and six o'clock, came, and still the
great parlor of Woodville, with all its flowers and
draperies, was " like some banquet hall deserted.''
Not a single guest came to the party of Miss
Fanny, and the rich feast that decked the table in
the great dining room was " wasting its sweet-
ness on the desert air."
Great were the astonishment and mortification
of all in the house. Fanny had gone to her
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 93
chamber, thrown off her fine clothes, and was
weeping great tears of grief and vexation. The
steward and the housekeeper were vainly trying
to explain the strange circumstance. It was very
remarkable.
" It is very singular," said Mrs. Green, " and
such a slight was never put upon this family be-
fore."
" I can't understand it," added the steward.
" Neither can I."
" I can," said Noddy, thrusting his hands down
to the bottom of the pockets in his new pants.
"You! what do you know about it?" said the
steward.
" I think there must have been some mistake in
the invitations," continued the housekeeper.
" I tell you, I know all about it." said Noddy.
i/
"What do you know?"
" Mr. Grant has failed, and the people round
here don't want to have any thing more to do with
him."
Neither the steward nor the housekeeper had
heard anv thing of this kind before, and thev were
t/
incredulous ; but Bertha, to whom Mrs. Green car-
ried this piece of information, confirmed it.
" That is no reason why people should keep
94 Rich and Humble, or
their children from coming to Fanny's party. Two
or three of our neighbors haye failed, and people
sympathized with them, instead of insulting them,
in their misfortune," said Bertha.
The failure of Mr. Grant certainly was not
enough to explain the singular unanimity with
which the guests of the party stayed away. The
steward and the housekeeper were more indignant
than before, and declared that they liyed in the
midst of the heathen. The cakes and the creams,
the fruits and the candies, for the feast, were put
away, the parlor was restored to its wonted con-
dition; but grief, chagrin, and indignation per-
vaded every hall and apartment at TYoodville, for
the slight that had been put upon the family.
The hour for the return of Mr. Grant had ar-
rived, and a man had been sent down to the rail-
road station to drive him up, as usual ; for Bertha
had a hope that he might come that night, in
spite of what he had said in his note. But the
man returned alone, bringing the mail and the
city newspapers.
As there was no ktter from her father, Bertha
took up one of the papers. The excitement of the
party had passed away, and the all-engrossing
theme of her father's misfortune once more began
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 95
to prey upon her mind. Richard had not yet
returned from the race, and she had a sad thought
for him. Fanny and the housekeeper were discuss-
ing the party still, and Bertha tried to read the
newspaper. She ran her eyes up and down the
columns, in search of any item or article that
might interest her.
Suddenly her gaze was fixed upon a paragraph,
which accidentally caught her eye. It chained her
attention, while her cheeks paled, her eyes dilated,
and her lips quivered. She read it through, as
though some terrible fascination attracted her to
the words; then the paper dropped from her
hands, a slight groan escaped her pallid lips, and
she dropped senseless from her chair upon the
floor.
Mrs. Green, alarmed at her fall, hastened to her
assistance, and with a strong arm placed her upon
a sofa. She saw that Bertha had only fainted,
and immediately applied herself with all zeal to
her restoration.
"What ails her?" asked Fanny, who was
greatly terrified by the death-like appearance of
her sister.
" She has only fainted ; she will get over it in
a few minutes," replied Mrs. Green, as she dashed
a tumbler of ice water in the patient's face.
96 Rich and Humble, or
" What made her faint? "
" Poor child ! She is all worn out. She didn't
sleep any last night, worrying because your father
didn't come home; and I suppose this affair of
the party has vexed and tormented her, as it has
all the rest of us."
" It is enough to make any one faint. I wonder
I don't faint," added Miss Fanny, who, no doubt,
thought she had more sorrows, just then, than all
the rest of the world put together.
Mrs. Green labored diligently and skilfully for
C2 f t-
the restoration of Bertha ; and in a very short
time the poor girl opened her eyes, and gazed
languidly around the room.
" My poor father ! ' sighed she ; and she shud-
dered so that her whole frame shook with the
paroxysm, as she uttered the words.
" Come, dear, don't take it so sorely to heart ;
your father will come back again.''
" O Mrs. Green ! " sobbed Bertha, as she looked
at the housekeeper, and her eyes filled with tears.
" What will become of me ? '
" Don't take on so, Bertha. You have no reason
to feel so badly, even if your father has failed."
" Failed ! " exclaimed Miss Fanny, to whom this
intelligence now came for the first time.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 97
To the proud little miss this was the most terri-
ble thing that could happen, and Mrs. Green be-
gan to fear that she should have another patient
on her hands ; for Fanny began to cry and rave as
though she was to be the only sufferer by her
father's misfortune.
" Come, children, you will make yourselves sick?
if you take on in this way. It may not be half
as bad as you think it is."
" My poor father ! ' sighed Bertha.
" No more parties, no more fine dresses ; the
horses and carriages must be sold, and all the
servants discharged ! " added Fanny, who though
only eleven years of age, knew what a failure
meant, and had read some novels from which
she had obtained the romantic idea of bankruptcy.
"What will become of him?" said Bertha.
" What shall I do ? " added Fanny. « No one
thinks any thing of poor people."
" Come, Bertha, you had better go up to your
chamber and lie down. You are all beat out with
this party, and last night," suggested Mrs. Green.
" Has Richard come home? "
" He has not."
" I wish he would come, Mrs. Green. I must go
to the city by the first train to-morrow morn-
ing."
98 Rich and Humble, or
"By the first train? Why! what for?"
" I must see father/' sighed she.
" You must be calm, Bertha. This violent tak-
ing on don't seem like you."
" You don't understand it, Mrs. Green," added
Bertha, looking sadly at the housekeeper.
" O, yes, I do ; I have known a hundred people
to fail, and some of them did not sell a single
horse, or discharge a single servant, but lived on
just the same as they did before they failed. It
isn't such a terrible thing, after all."
" You don't understand it," groaned Bertha, her
eyes filling with tears again.
" Why, yes, I do. Some folks fail on purpose,
and make ever so much money by it. Don't cry
about it."
" It is nothing of that kind that makes me
feel so."
" What in the world is it, then ? " asked the
housekeeper, astonished and alarmed by the reply.
" I cannot tell you. Do not ask me. You will
know too soon. But I will try to be calm, and
not disturb you and others by my conduct."
" Bless you, child ! You don't disturb me, but
I feel as bad as you do. I hope nothing bad has
happened."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 99
" I cannot answer you," replied Bertha, as she
shuddered at the thought of the terrible thing she
had read in the newspaper. " There, I will not
cry any more."
She rose from the sofa, and summoned all her
strength to her aid; she tried to recover her
wonted self-possession, but the blow she had re-
ceived was too heavy and too awful to be easily
resisted. She picked up the newspaper from the
floor, and put it in her pocket, that none of the
family might read the terrible paragraph which
had taken away her reason for the time.
In her own bosom she locked up the fearful
truth. She had no one to whom she dared to im-
part it. The reason why none of the children had
come to the party was painfully apparent to her.
The neighbors had read the morning papers, had
read that stunning paragraph, and Woodville was
no place for their children to visit after such a
revelation.
Poor Bertha tried to eat her supper, but she
could not. The terrible secret was burning at her
heart. She dared not utter it, lest the house-
keeper and the steward, and even old Ben, should
desert the family, as the neighbors had done. But
Richard was her brother, and she must tell him.
ioo Rich and Humble, or
He was older than she was, and such a shock as
this would electrify him.
The secret seemed to gnaw at her soul, and she
felt the need of a friend and comforter, and Rich-
ard was the only one to whom she could muster
courage to reveal it. After rising from the supper
table, where she had vainly tried to eat, she has-
tened down to the wharf to meet her brother on
his return. As she approached the pier, she saw
the Greyhound coming around the island. In a
few moments it was within hail of the wharf;
when Bertha discovered, with intense alarm, that
Richard was not at the helm.
The boat was steered by Tom Mullen; but on
its nearer approach, the poor girl perceived the
form of her brother lying in the bottom. She ut-
tered a scream of terror, for he appeared to be
dead.
" Don't be frightened, miss," said Tom Mullen,
as he brought the boat alongside the wharf.
" Is he dead? " gasped Bertha.
" O, no, Miss Grant. Nothing of the kind. He
took one glass more than he could carry, and it
threw him," laughed Tom.
Richard was intoxicated! It was scarcely bet-
ter than dead.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 101
CHAPTER VIII.
IN WHICH BERTHA MEETS THE NEW OWNER OF
WOODVILLE.
BERTHA was shocked and almost paralyzed when
she realized the condition of her brother. It was
dreadful to see a mere boy, only fifteen years of
age, in a state of beastly intoxication, and that
boy her only brother, he to whom she had looked
for counsel and encouragement in this hour of bit-
ter trial. All her hopes seemed to be dissipated
by this greatest calamity, and despair to be her
only resort.
Tom Mullen's coarseness — for he alluded to the
condition of Richard as though it were a matter
of no consequence — grated harshly upon her feel-
ings, and in a low tone she begged Ben, who had
now come to her assistance, to send him off. The
boatman and Tom bore Richard to the seat upon
the pier, and then the former thanked the rowdy
for what he had done for Mr. Richard, and pro-
posed to take him back to Whitestone in one of
the row boats. Tom assented to the arrangement,
102 Rich and Humble, or
and much to the relief of Bertha, he bade her
good night, and stepped into the boat, leaving her
alone vdth the helpless boy.
" Too bad," sighed Ben. " Too bad for a fine
boy, like Mr. Richard, to come home in such a
situation as that."
"That's a fact, Ben. I told him he had got
enough, and advised him not to take the last glass.
I did all I could to keep him straight; so it is
not my fault that he comes home drunk."
" If he had never seen you and the rest of the
boys on the other side of the river, he might have
been a decent bov."
v
" That is talking pretty close to the point," re-
plied Tom Mullen, sourly.
" Perhaps it is. Mr. Richard is a smart boy
and worth a dozen of the rowdies he goes with."
" May be he is ; but if he don't want my com-
t/ / t/
pany, I am sure I don't want his. I can get
along as well without him as he can without me.
He wanted to race boats with me, and he did, and
lost the race. I am five dollars better off for the
affair than before, it is true; but I paid for all
the liquor he drank."
" Don't say any more, Tom Mullen, or you will
tempt me to throw you into the river."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 103
"But don't you see I am not to blame?"
" Silence ! You have led this poor boy into all
sorts of iniquity, and if I thought you knew any
better, I would take it out of your bones."
Tom Mullen was a boy of seventeen. His feel-
ings were deeply injured by the plain speech of
the old boatman, if a person of his stamp had feel-
ings, and he was disposed to resent his home
thrusts ; but he knew old Ben well enough not to
atempt any thing of the kind at present, and laid
up his revenge for a more convenient season.
Ben landed his dissolute passenger on the pier
at Whitestone, and hastened back to comfort Ber-
tha, and attend to the besotted youth. On his
return he found the poor girl weeping over her
brother.
" This is terrible, Ben ! " sobbed she. " To think
that Richard should 'ever come to this!'
" It's awful to see a man drunk, and I think
the angels must weep to see a boy in such a
state."
"What shall we do? I don't want to expose
him to all the servants in the house."
" Leave him to me, Miss Bertha. I will take
good care of him, and not a soul shall see him till
he is all right again. Go up to the house; go to
bed, and sleep as though nothing had happened."
104 Rich and Humble, or
" Thank you, Ben : you are very kind to save
my feelings, and Richard's, too, for he will hide
his head with shame when he realizes what he has
done."
" I hope he will ; and bad as this thing is, it
may be all for the best. It may be the very thing
he needs to open his eyes and reform his life."
Bertha tried to hope that what the old man said
might prove true ; but just then there seemed to be
no stability in any thing human, and she could
not help feeling that Richard was ruined forever
— that his life would be that of the miserable sot,
and end in the drunkard's grave. So many ter-
rible events had suddenly been hurled upon her,
that she had begun to give way to the sense of
gloom and despondency which the dark clouds of
human ill often induce.
With a repeated charge to Ben to see that Rich-
ard was well cared for, she bade him good night,
and slowly walked up towards the house. She
went to her chamber, and her prayers that night
were longer and more earnest than usual; but
they gave her hope and strength, for " earth has
no sorrow which Heaven cannot heal." Exhausted
by her physical exertions, as well as by her
mental struggles, she soon wept herself to sleep.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 105
As soon as Bertha left the wharf, the boatman
at once applied himself to the redeeming of his
promise. Lifting the inebriated boy in his arms,
he carried him to a shallow place by the bank of
the river, and having removed his clothing, he
commenced a vigorous course of hydropathic
treatment, which partially brought the patient to
his senses. Richard thought it was rather rough,
when he had so far recovered from his stupor as to
be able to comprehend his situation, and he begged
the doctor to desist; but Ben persevered till he
was satisfied he had done his work thoroughly.
He then carefully rubbed him dry, and led him
back to the boat house, where he made a bed for
him of sails and boat cushions. The patient was
still too stupid to offer any objection, and dropped
asleep almost as soon as he touched his bed. Ben
slept by his side, faithful to the charge given him
by his young mistress.
The next morning, Richard had entirely re-
covered from his debauch, with the exception of a
severe headache. The vigorous treatment of the
old boatman had, no doubt, been highly beneficial.
At all events, he was sufficiently recovered to be
heartily ashamed of himself; for he realized that
he had been intoxicated, and had a faint recol-
IG Rich and Humble, or
loot ion of the ono | vat ions of Ben. But
1 am sorry to add that his pride was more deeply
wounded than his principle, lie began to think
of what people would say. rather than of the
wrong ho had done. The feeling that he had dis-
graced himself and his family, rather than sinned
against God and himself, took possession of his
id.
He was soon called to a realizing sense of his
conduct by the vigorous scolding which Ben gave
him. The old man was as faithful in his admoni-
tion as though the boy had been his own son:
and Richard's shame and mortification did not
permit him to utter a word in his own defence.
"While he was undergoing this severe lecture. Ber-
tha came down to inquire for his health. The
boatman brought his address to an abrupt conclu-
sion, and told Bertha what he had done, and that
the patient was in as good condition as could bo
expected after such a time.
•• Come up to the house with me. Richard," said
Bertha : " I want to talk with YOU."
%
•• 1 have had talk enough, and I don't think
any more would do me any good," replied Rich-
ard: but the remonstrance was very tame for him.
•• I will not reproach you for what you have
The Mi '-/.ion <A iicrtha Grant. 107
done, I )}<•]<. I will leave that to your own cori-
g< ience. I have something else to say to you."
" I don't want, to go up to the house, find ho
laughed ;if. hy all the servants. I fool rnoro liko
Hairing out somewhere, and novor seeing any
! y that knows me again."
" No one at. the house knows any thing ahout
your Conduct."
Richard thought it was very considerate on the
part of Hen and his sister to conceal his infirmity
from others, arid he felt grateful to thorn for spar-
ing his pride. He walked up to the house with
Bertha, and after he had changed his clothes and
eaten his breakfast, they met again in the library.
Just before breakfast, Mrs. Green had told him
ahout the failure of Fanny's party, and the faint-
ing of IJortha. He was indignant at the slight
ujton the family, and pitied poor IJertha, who had
taken it HO sorely to heart. lie reproached hirri-
s"lf more than ever for his own conduct, and de-
i--rrnined to make what reparation he could for it.
" I did not think our neighbors were so heart-
less fx'fore," na id Richard, as ho entered the
library where JJertha was waiting for him. "It
makes rriv blood boil to think of it."
v
" I am not at all surprised at their conduct.
io8 Rich and Humble, or
Perhaps they kept their children at home from the
best of motives, for they probably knew more of
our affairs than we did ourselves/' replied Bertha,
as she wiped away the tears from her eyes, which
would come in spite of all her efforts to repress
them.
" What do you mean by that, Bertha? "
" Father is utterly ruined."
" Well, he has failed, I suppose ; but I "
" O, worse than that ; as much worse than that
as can be ! " exclaimed Bertha.
" Why, what has happened ? You had a letter
from him yesterday, saying that he was alive and
well."
" I did; but he did not tell us the whole truth."
" Why, what do you mean, Bertha ? What can
have happened to him ? '
" He is not only ruined, but he is in prison."
" In prison ! ' exclaimed Kichard, shocked at
these words.
" In the Tombs," replied she, covering her face
with her hands. " I read it in the newspaper last
night."
" What has he done? " demanded Richard, with
quivering lip.
" He was arrested on the charge of fraud — the
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 109
paper says stupendous frauds in his business. I
do not understand it, but I am sure, very sure,
that father has not done any thing wrong. I
know he would not do it."
" Certainly not," added Richard, biting his lip
till the blood ran.
" The newspaper says that he was arrested in
an attempt to leave the country, which rendered
his guilt all the more apparent; but I do not be-
lieve it."
" Xor I," added Richard.
" Here is the paper ; you can read the para-
graph, and perhaps you will understand it better
than I do," said Bertha, as she took the paper
from her pocket.
Richard read the article, and then read it again ;
but the complicated transactions which it de-
scribed were as much beyond his comprehension as
they had been beyond his sister's. The failure of
an extensive English banking house had been the
beginning of Mr. Grant's misfortunes, and the
alleged frauds were committed in attempting to
sustain himself against the pressure caused by
being deprived of his foreign resources. But my
young readers would be as much in the dark as
Richard and Bertha, if I should attempt to explain
no Rich and Humble, or
the situation of Mr. Grant's affairs. It is enough
to say that all the apparent wealth of the broker,
immense as it had appeared to himself and to his
neighbors, had suddenly been swept away, and
that he was thrown into prison on the charge of
fraud.
Since the preceding evening, Bertha had borne
this heavy load upon her heart, made ten times
heavier by the misconduct of her brother. The
consciousness that she could do nothing to aid her
father, or even to comfort him, was not the least
of her troubles. Mr. Grant had concealed from
his children the fact of his arrest and imprison-
ment, and she had given up her purpose to visit
him in his prison, for it could only add to his
grief, since he now supposed her to be ignorant of
his real condition.
Among other items in the paragraph, the news-
paper said that Mr. Grant had secured his princi-
pal and most pressing creditor by making over to
him his splendid estate on the Hudson, with all
its furniture, appointments, boats, library ; indeed,
every thing there was at Woodville. This state-
ment was even more startling to Richard than the
fact of his father's arrest. All the worldly pos-
sessions of his father had passed away, almost in
The Mission of Bertha Grant, in
the twinkling of an eye. When he heard of the
failure, he recalled the case of one of the neigh-
bors, who, though a bankrupt, had retained his
house and lands, and he had expected that his
father would do the same. But now Woodville
was gone : even the furniture in the house, the
boats and the horses, all were to be given up, and
the proud youth looked with disgust and contempt
upon the poor cottage, or other humble abode,
which his fancy pictured as the future residence
of the familv.
V
He was selfish, grossly selfish, in his pride and
vanity, and he almost forgot the situation of his
father in his mourning over the loss of the lux-
uries to which he had always been accustomed.
Henceforth he was to be no better than the young
men of Whitestone, who had regarded him with
envy and admiration.
While he and Bertha were considering, from
widely different points of view, the sad misfor-
tune which had overtaken them, the man to whom
Mr. Grant had transferred Woodville arrived to
take possession of his property. As he was a
money lender, and had no other God but his
wealth, he was a hard man, rude and rough.
Woodville would not pay him for the money he
H2 Rich and Humble, or
had lent its late owner, and obtaining possession
of the place did not appease the anger which the
failure of Mr. Grant had occasioned.
He was duly armed with all the necessary
papers to make his work legal; and he had no
regard for the feelings of the children or the serv-
ants. He walked all over the house and grounds,,
with his followers, and gave orders to the servants
for the disposal of the boats and the horses.
"Can we remain here?' asked Bertha, in
timid and trembling tones, as the new owner, for
the third time, rudely entered the library, where
Bertha and Richard were still seated, followed by
all his train.
"How long do you want to stay?' demanded
Mr. Grayle, the new proprietor, w'ith an unfeel-
ing stare at her and her brother.
" I don't know ; till father comes home, I sup-
pose," answered Bertha, alarmed and indignant
at the coarse manner of the man.
" That will be a long time, I rather think," said
Mr. Grayle. " Haven't you got any uncles or
aunts, or other friends, you could visit for a few
weeks?"
" We have no relative but uncle Obed, and he
is in South America; but we will not stay here
if you do not wish us to do so."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 113
" Well, I don't want to be hard with you. I
have a purchaser in view who will take the estate
as it stands. He will be here to-morrow; but you
can stay till I sell the place/' said Grayle.
" Do you think he will buy it?' asked Rich-
ard.
" I am reasonablv sure that he will."
i>
" Then we must indeed leave Woodville,"
groaned Richard.
" I shouldn't think you would want to stay
here, after what has happened," sneered Grayle.
" But if you want to stay, of course I shall not
drive you out. As to your father's coming home,
don't delude yourself on that point, young man.
In my opinion, you won't see him for some
years, unless you go where he happens to be."
" What do you mean by that? " demanded Rich-
ard, his face crimson with shame.
" I suppose you know where Singsing is. If
you call at the penitentiary there, in the course of
a month or two, you will probably find him."
" You are an unfeeling brute," gasped Richard,
filled with rage at the words and the sneers of the
money-lender.
"You are a little too bad," whispered one of
the attendants of Gravle.
ii4 Rich and Humble, or
" I speak the truth. This young cub has been
living at raj expense for some time. He is prouder
than his father, and it is time for him to open
his eves. But I won't be hard with them. I shall
lock up the parlors, the library, and the dining
room. They may have the use of the kitchen and
their own chambers. We will send the servants
off to-dav. Thev inav have their rooms and wel-
If V V
come, though I suppose they won't thank me for
them," growled Grayle, as he left the library.
Eichard and Bertha were almost stunned by
these words ; but they hastened from the library to
their own chambers, to avoid further insult.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 115
CHAPTER IX.
IN WHICH BERTHA LEAVES WOODVILLE, AND RICHARD
IS AS PROUD AS EVER.
THERE was no longer any room, if there was
any desire, to conceal the misfortunes which had
overtaken the owner of Woodville. The servants
were all talking about the matter, and the as-
tounding intelligence that Mr. Grant had been
sent to the Tombs for fraud was spreading in
every direction. Before night the steward and
the housekeeper, the boatman and the grooms,
indeed all who had held any position at Wood-
ville, were discharged. Not even Mrs. Green was
allowed to remain ; for Gravle feared that the
/ */
affection of the late owner's employees might lead
them to appropriate some of the property of their
master. Perhaps his principal object was to drive
the children from the place. Whether it was or
not, it had this affect, for they could not remain
any longer in the deserted home.
" What shall we do ? We can't remain here
any longer," said Richard, as the three lonely
n6 Rich and Humble, or
children met together in the chamber of Bertha.
" There is not a servant left in the house. For
one, I cannot remain here any longer."
" I feel that we are intruders ; but where shall
we go? " added Bertha.
" Any where ; I care not where."
" But we have no place to go. Our rich and
proud neighbors will not receive us now."
" If I knew they would, I wouldn't darken their
doors," replied Richard, proudly.
" Nor I, after what they did yesterday," added
Fanny.
" I cannot stay here to be watched and dogged
by that man whom Grayle has left in charge of
the place. If I move, he follows me, as though
he were afraid I would steal something,'' con-
tinued Richard, chafing under the new order of
things. " I will not remain under this roof a
single hour longer."
"Where shall we go?"
" We will go to the hotel over at Whitestone."
" To the hotel ? How can we go to the hotel.
We have not money enough to pay for a single
day's board."
" Yes, we have. I have over thirty dollars in
my pocket."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 117
" Thirty dollars? " repeated Bertha, with an in-
quiring glance.
" Yes ; thirty-five, I think."
" O, Richard ! " sighed Bertha.
" Come, Berty, don't reprove me any more ;
and as I have no longer any reason for keeping it
secret, I will tell you that I had fifty dollars. I
saved the man on the steamer from drowning, and
gave him the name of John Green."
Bertha was not disposed to criticise his conduct
at this time, but she was rejoiced to know that
he had so much money, and that he came honestly
by it. She readily assented to the plan of going
to the hotel in Whitestone, and hastily packed up
her own and Fanny's clothing in a trunk which
belonged to her, as Richard had already done with
his own wardrobe.
The trunks were carried down stairs by Richard
and Bertha, and placed upon the piazza. They
were heavy, and their weight reminded the proud
youth of the condition to which he had fallen.
i/
He had never done such a thing as to carry his
own trunk down stairs before. There were a
dozen willing servants ready to do such work ; but
thev had all been driven, like unclean beasts, from
f
the premises.
n8 Rich and Humble, or
But some of them had not gone far. Old Ben,
like a guardian angel, hovered around the house,
in spite of the orders of the keeper to leave ; and
no sooner were the trunks visible on the piazza
than the boatman made his appearance. He had
been up to Bertha's room several times during the
dav, and had done what he could to comfort her;
«/ 7 f
but he was old and poor, and he had nothing to
offer but words of hope and consolation.
" Are you going. Miss Bertha ? ' he asked, as
the children came out of the house.
" Yes, Ben ; we cannot stay here, where we are
not wanted, any longer. We are going over to
the hotel at Whitestone."
" Then I will go with you ; and I am glad that
you are going where I may have a chance to
speak to you. These lubberly landsharks have
been trving to drive me awav from Woodville ; but
«/ CJ *.
I shall not lose sight of the place while any of you
remain. Dear me ! this is the saddest day I ever
knew in my life; but after a storm there's always
a calm. Keep a cheery heart, and it will all come
out right in the end," said Ben, as with much dif-
ficulty he shouldered the big trunk, and walked
towards the wharf.
" Stop, there! " said a voice, in the direction of
the stable.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 119
At this moment Noddy Newman came bounding
over the lawn, closely pursued by the keeper of
the estate. The little savage had been driven off
I2O Rich and Humble, or
the premises a dozen times during the day ; but he
had as many times returned, determined not to
desert Bertha in this hour of her extremity.
" Stop ! " shouted the keeper. " Put down that
trunk; '' and the man placed himself in front of
Ben, who, followed by Bertha and Eichard with
the smaller trunk, was leading the little proces-
sion down to the pier.
"What do you want? " said Ben, gruffly, as he
deposited the trunk upon the ground.
" I ordered you to leave these premises."
" And I am going to leave them now, once and
for all," replied Ben. " The children are going
with me."
" You cannot carry off those trunks."
" I think we can if our strength holds out.
Here, Noddy, take hold of that trunk with Mr.
Eichard."
" Stop, I say ! You shall not carry those trunks
off the place."
" They contain nothing but our clothes," inter-
posed Bertha.
" I don't know that," said the keeper, who was
evidently a close imitator of his employer.
"/ know it; go ahead, Ben," added Eichard.
" I say you cannot carry off those trunks," per-
sisted the man.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 121
"Can't we have our own clothes?" asked Ber-
tha. " There is nothing else in them."
" Open them, and let me see," added the man,
roughly.
" I will not do it!" answered Richard, stoutly.
" I give my word that they contain nothing but
our clothing."
" What is your word good for, young man ?
You may open them, or carry them back to the
house."
" I will do neither. Move on, Ben."
Ben attempted to take up the trunk again, but
the man put his hands upon it in such a manner
as to prevent him from doing so.
" You miserable landshark," said Ben, letting
go the trunk. " You have all the law on your side,
perhaps, but I have all the common sense and hu-
manity on mine. Aren't you ashamed of your-
self to persecute these poor children in this man-
ner ? "
" I only do my duty," whined the keeper.
" I am going to take these things down to the
pier, whether you are willing or not. I am ready
to shake hands or fight with you, but I am going
to do what I say ; " and Ben proceeded once more
to shoulder the trunk.
122 Rich and Humble, or
The keeper did not doom it prudent to interfere
1 :rh him again ; and perhaps he thought he was
doing more than his duty required of him. The
parry reached the pier, and were on the point of
putting the trunks into the four-oar barge, when
the keeper again interposed to prevent them from
nsiug the boat. This was plainly a part of
Grayle's property, and there could be no question
in regard to the man's right to interfere. He
was inflexible though Ben and Bertha both begged
the use of the boat for a single hour.
cr*
Noddy stood by watching with intense interest
the proceedings, and so indignant that he could no
longer contain himself. He began to abuse the
keeper in round terms : and finding this did him no
damage, he picked up a large stone, and would
have thrown it, if Bertha had not commanded
him to drop it and be silent.
" Why don't you take the boat? " said he.
" Because it is not right to take it."
" Right! Humph! " pouted Noddy. •• I would
take it quick enough. But hold on a minute, Miss
Bertha, and I will get you a boat: " and away he
ran down the bank of the river, before she could
stop him.
In half an hour he returned in a boat with Bob
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 123
Blceker, whom he had hailed from the point below.
Bob was what would be called a " rough " in the
city of New York, but he was a man of generous
heart, and had many good qualities. As his boat
rounded up by the side of the wharf, he stepped
ashore, and offered his services to convey the party
over to Whitestone; for Noddy had already told
him, with a good deal of coloring, about the con-
duct of the keeper.
He helj>ed Ben put the trunks in the boat, and
then handed Bertha and Fanny to their seats.
The keeper stood by, watching the movements of
the party ; and when they were seated in the boat,
and Bob was about to shove off, he uttered some
insolent remarks.
" Stand by the boat-hook a moment, Ben," said
Bob, as he jumped on the wharf again.
"What do you want now?' said the keeper.
" Be off — quick as you can."
" I can't go till I have paid my respects to you,"
replied Bob Bleeker. " You are the meanest Hot-
tentot that ever landed on this side of North River.
Couldn't you let these children have a boat to
get out of your sight in? '
" Begone ! None of your insolence here ! I
have got rid of them now," growled the keeper.
124 Rich and Humble, or
" But you haven't got rid of me just yet. I
want to leave you my card. There it is ! ' he
added, striking the brutal wretch in the face with
such force that the blow knocked him down. " I
know how you've treated these children; I have
heard all about it; and I couldn't leave you with-
out something to remember me by. My name is
Bob Bleeker, of Whitestone; and if you want to
meet me in a court of justice, I shall be willing
to pay ten dollars, or so, for the sake of showing
up such a villain as you are."
The keeper picked himself up, and retreated
from the spot, muttering vengeance upon the head
of the chivalrous " rough."
Bob Bleeker did wrong to strike the keeper,
however much the fellow deserved a whipping
for his brutality. Noddy stood by, and witnesed
the castigation with a satisfaction that he ex-
pressed in the most extravagant manner. Bertha
alone condemned the conduct of Bob ; but she gave
him credit for his good will.
The boat was pushed off, and in a few moments
the fresh breeze carried them over to Whitestone.
Bob and Ben conveyed the trunks up to the hotel,
where they obtained two rooms. They were not
such as the children had occupied at Woodville,
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 125
but they were cheerful and comfortable. At an
early hour Fanny, worn out by the exciting events
of the day, retired to rest, leaving Richard and
Bertha to consider some plan for the future.
Strange as it may seem, Bertha experienced a
feeling of relief when she found herself domiciled
at the hotel. She had left Woodville — had been
almost driven from it; had been insulted and
outraged in her feelings; but the tie which bound
her to the home of her childhood had been snapped.
There had been none of the sighs and tears with
which she had expected to bid farewell to Wood-
ville ; she, and her brother and sister, had been too
glad to get away from it. She felt stronger and
more hopeful than she had since the first note of
disaster had sounded in her ears.
However dark and forbidding the future might
look, she was ready to meet it, for it seemed as
though all of grief and misfortune that the world
could have in store had already been hurled upon
her afflicted familv.
e/
"What are we to do, Richard?' said she, as
she joined him in his room.
I " I don't know," replied he, blankly ; " I have
not thought of that yet."
It is time to think of it."
126 Rich and Humble, or
"What can we do?"
" There are a hundred things that we can do.
You are strong and healthy, and have been well
educated. Perhaps you can find a place."
"A place? A place for what?" said Richard,
looking curiously into the face of his sister.
" A place to work, of course," answered she?
with no attempt to soften the words.
"A place to work!" repeated he, slowly, as if
to obtain the full force of the idea. " What do
you suppose I can do? '
" You can get a place to learn a trade; or you
can go into a store."
" Get a place to learn a trade ! " exclaimed Rich-
ard, rising suddenly from his chair, and walking
up and down the room. " Don't you think the
only son of Franklin Grant would look very pretty
learning a trade? Don't mention such a thing as
that to me again."
" Why, Richard, I am surprised to find that ex-
perience has taught you nothing," replied Bertha.
" You surely do not expect to be a gentleman,
now that there is not a dollar of all your father's
wealth left?"
" I intend to be a gentleman as long as I live."
" But you must work."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 127
a I have money."
" Thirty-five dollars ! How long do you suppose
it will last? It will not pay our board for more
than two or three weeks."
" Perhaps I can do something that is light and
genteel. At any rate, I will see what can be
done to-morrow; but I shall not learn any trade,
I'll warrant you."
" You must conquer your pride, Richard, and
remember that we are beggars now."
" Perhaps we are. I wonder when uncle Obed
is coming home from Valparaiso. He is im-
mensely rich.
t/
" I don't know ; we might starve before we
heard from him."
" Starve ? Pooh ! What is the use of talking
about such things."
" We had better look things right in the face.
I don't think you have considered our situation.
We have neither money nor friends. We must
work for a living, unless you are willing to go to
the almshouse, and live on charity. I am not, and
T intend to go to work."
" What are you going to do, Berty? " asked he,
with an incredulous smile.
" I don't know yet ; I am going to work,"
228 Rich and Humble, or
" Don't disgrace yourself and your family^
Berty."
" What nonsense you talk, Richard ! We are
beggars and outcasts, and it is all folly to talk
about disgracing myself or the family. I shall
find something to do in a few days. I wish I could
see father. He would tell me what to do."
Richard's pride could not yet be conquered, and
Bertha retired, feeling that the rude hand of neces-
sity would soon make hard terms with him. But
with such views as he held, it was not safe to re*'
main at a hotel, and she resolved to find a cheaper
residence the next dav.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 129
CHAPTER X.
IN WHICH BERTHA VISITS THE WIDOW LAMB, AND
MAKES ARRANGEMENTS FOR THE FUTURE.
ON the following morning, Bertha, who, in spite
of her cares and trials, had slept well, rose early,
and applied herself with zeal and energy to the
great work before her — a work so difficult and
delicate that it would have challenged the whole
ability of a mature and experienced mind. Her
pathway was full of trials and perplexities, for
she had but little knowledge of the world, and was
without the aid of influential friends.
There were two very difficult problems, which re-
quired an immediate solution. The first was, what
to do with Fanny; and the second, whether Rich-
ard would be a help or a hindrance to her. If
there had been no one but herself to provide for,
the task would have been an easy one. Fanny
was too young to do any thing for herself, and
Richard's pride was a stumbling-block in his path.
The thirty-five dollars in her brother's possession
was but a small sum to pay the expenses of a
130 Rich and Humble, or
family ; but she was not sure that even this would
be devoted to the purpose.
Her father was languishing in prison. He was
suffering for himself, and suffering for them ; for
she knew that his greatest grief would be the
thought of his children, now cast penniless and
unprotected upon the cold world. She wanted to
do something for him, and she would gladly have
gone to his prison, and shared its gloom and its
horrors with him, if she could take the weight of
one straw from the heavy burden he was compelled
to bear. But the nearer and more pressing duties
of the hour would not permit her to yield even
this filial offering till she had done something to
prepare for the cold and forbidding future.
These were some of the perplexities; but the
perils and difficulties that surrounded her seemed
to give her new strength and new courage. The
words of the Scripture, " As thy day, so shall thy
strength be," as embodied in a beautiful and com-
forting poem by Mrs. Sigourney, lingered encour-
agingly in her mind, to sweeten the cup of adver-
sity and nerve her soul for the conflict of the day.
On this morning, therefore, she was calm and reso-
lute, and looked hopefully forward to what the
day might bring forth.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 131
Her first care was for Fanny ; and she had
*/ /
already decided what disposition to make of her.
She intended, with the assistance of Ben, to find a
place in some poor but respectable family, where
she could be boarded for a small sum. Bertha
hoped that before many weeks the family might be
united again under one roof, however humble;
and this arrangement was to be only a temporary
one.
While Richard and Fanny were still sleeping,
she looked out of her window and saw the old boat-
man walking up and down in front of the house.
He had lodged with Bob Bleeker; but very much
as a faithful watch dog keeps guard over the prop-
erty of his master, he kept his eyes upon the
children, without being forward, or intruding up-
on them at unseemly hours. Bertha passed
through the silent halls of the hotel, and joined
the boatman upon the piazza, where she informed
him of her plan in regard to Fanny.
" Now, Ben, can you help me find a good place,
where she can be boarded for a small sum? for
you know we cannot afford to pay much."
" I know a poor widow woman, where I used
to board myself, 3'ears ago ; but the place would
not suit Miss Fanny. It wouldn't be stylish
enough."
132 Rich and Humble, or
" No matter for that, Ben. It will come hard
to her,, but she must learn to live as poor folks
live. Is she a good woman ? '
" There isn't a better on the face of the earth.
She took care of me when I was laid up with the
rheumatism. Mrs. Lamb is a Christian woman, if
there is one in this world," said Ben with empha-
sis ; " and if I had a daughter, I don't know
another person with whom I would more willingly
trust her."
" Do you think Mrs. Lamb would be willing to
take Fanny ? "
" I think she would ; onlv I am afraid Miss
/ t/
Fanny would give her a great deal of trouble.
You know she has very fine notions, and Mrs.
Lamb's house isn't a bit like Woodville."
" Of course not ; but Fanny may as well begin
first as last to learn her lesson. I am sorry for
her, poor child; I pity her, for I know it is a
terrible blow to her to be deprived of the nice
things she had at home."
" It is no worse for her than it is for you, Miss
Bertha," added Ben, with a smile.
" I never cared so much for fine things as Rich-
ard and Fanny. It is no credit to me, for I sup-
pose I was born so."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 133
" Yes, Miss Bertha ; one who has been rich and
humble, can be humble enough in poverty; but
pride and want don't go well together."
" Where does Mrs. Lamb live ? '
"About half a mile from here, just outside of
the village. She has got a very pretty cottage
which her husband left her when he died; but
that is all she has got, and she has to work pretty
hard for a living. She does washing and ironing
for the rich people of the place, and she has as
many friends as a member of Congress. We will
walk over to the widow's house, if you please,
Miss Bertha. If you will walk along, I will fol-
low you."
" Come -with me, Ben," said Bertha, with a
smile, as she took hold of his arm, and led him
along for a few paces.
" I didn't know as you would like to walk with
a rough-looking man like me," added Ben, as he
dashed away a truant tear, which his pride and
his affection had jointly contributed to form.
" I am not proud, Ben."
" You never were, Miss Bertha."
"What are you going to do, Ben? I have
been so selfish that I have hardly thought of
you."
134 Rich and Humble, or
" O, I shall do very well, Miss Bertha," answered
Ben, with a smile of pleasure at this manifestation
of interest on the part of his master's daughter.
" I had hoped you would always remain in our
family; and it hurts my feelings to see you now,
an old man, and rather infirm, thrown upon the
world to take care of yourself."
" Don't think of me. I have my plans all
formed."
" My father never gave you large wages, for I
know he meant to take care of you as long as you
lived. I suppose you haven't saved much."
" Hardly any thing, Miss Bertha. I sent all
the money I could spare to my daughter, out west,
after her husband died. I don't know how she
will get along now. But I can manage to make
some money. I have a matter of a hundred dol-
lars or so, salted down in the Savings Bank in
Whitestone, for a rainy day."
" That will not support you."
" No ; I bargained for a boat, last night, with
Bob Bleeker, and was to have given him this
hundred dollars in part pay; but I "
The old man suspended his speech at this point,
and walked along with his eyes fixed on the
ground, while the long breaths he drew indicated
the emotion that agitated his bosom.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 135
"What, Ben?" gently asked Bertha.
" I didn't dare to pay away this money."
"Why not?"
" Since you were driven out of Woodville, I
have thought this hundred dollars might be of
some help to you."
" To me ! ' exclaimed Bertha. " I could not
think of touching your money. Besides, we shall
not need it. Richard has some money, and we
shall get along very well. Keep it, Ben, for you
will need it yourself."
" It is all at your service, Miss Bertha. It is
little I can offer, but you are welcome to it."
" We shall not need it, Ben ; really, we shall
not."
" Then perhaps I had better buy the boat. I
am going boating. There are plenty of people and
parties in Whitestone who like to sail on the river ;
and since Bob Bleeker gave up the business, there
has been no regular boatman. I think I can do
very well."
" I hope so, I am sure, Ben," replied Bertha,
heartily. " I am rejoiced to find you have some-
thing to do that will suit your taste."
" I shall do very well, Miss Bertha. No one
need worry about old Ben, as long as he has the
136 Rich and Humble, or
use of his lirobs. There is one thing more, Miss
Bertha, which I suppose you have not thought
about. What is to become of Noddy Newman?'
" Poor little fellow ! " sighed Bertha. " I sup-
pose I can do nothing more for him. Where is
he now? '
" He slept with me at Bob Bleeker's last night.
I suppose he will take to the woods, and become
a vagabond again, if he can't stay with you. He
don't seem to care for anv body on earth. Miss
t/ *•' /
Bertha, but you, though he will mind me for your
sake. I believe the little fellow would die for you
in a moment."
" Poor Noddy ! " said Bertha. " I wish I could
t/
take care of him. He is a smart boy. I have
taught him to read, and I had great hopes that I
should make something of him."
" I have been thinking, Miss Bertha/' added
Ben, taking off his hat, and scratching his bald
head, as though a magnificent idea had taken pos-
session of his mind, " if you could induce the boy
to stay with me, I will do as well by him as I
can. I can read, and write, and cipher, and I will
help him along with these things. He is smart
and active, and having him with me in the boat
would ease my old bones a great deal."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 137
Bertha was delighted with this plan, and readily
promised to do all she could to make Noddy stay
with Ben. At this point in the conversation, they
arrived at the house of the widow Lamb. The
cottage, as the boatman had represented, was very
neat, and even pretty, and Bertha thought her
sister ought to be happy in such a place.
Mrs. Lamb was willing to take Fanny to beard,
for she was very fond of children; but Bertha
frankly told her that the little miss might cause
her a great deal of trouble, for she had been used
to having a great many servants around her. The
widow thought she could manage her; at any rate,
she would try it, and she hoped she should be
able to make her happy and contented. Bertha
thought her price — two dollars a week — was very
reasonable for one who was likely to be so difficult
to please ; and she took her leave of the laundress,
agreeing to bring Fanny to her new home in the
course of the day.
On their return to the hotel, Ben hastened back
to Bob Bleecker's to close the bargain for the boat,
while Bertha went up stairs to announce the new
arrangement to Fanny and Richard. The former
had not vet risen, and as Bertha assisted in dress-
*/ /
ing her, she told her what had been done.
138 Rich and Humble, or
" Then I ain to live with a washerwoman ! " said
Miss Fanny, with a toss of her head.
" It is a very pretty cottage, and Mrs. Lamb is
a very nice woman. You will be quite happy and
contented there, if you are willing to be so any
where that our small means will permit you to
live."
".But only to think of it ! Live with a washer-
woman ! '
" Fanny, we are all beggars now. We are
poorer than Mrs. Lamb, with whom you will
board. Beggars cannot be choosers, you know."
" Father will find me a better place than that."
" Father can do nothing for us now, if he ever
can," replied Bertha, the tears filling her eyes.
" He is in prison, and you ought to be thankful
that you have a home at all."
The tears in the eyes of her sister touched the
heart of Fanny. Her pride was the greatest defect
of her character. She had never known much of
a mother's care; if she had, she might have been
a different person.
"What are you going to do, Bertha?' asked
Fanny.
" I am going to work. I shall find a place
where I can earn money enough to pay your board.
I hope Richard will help me."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 139
" Of course he will."
" Now, if you will go to your new place, and
never complain of any thing, nor cause Mrs. Lamb
any trouble, you will do all I can expect of you."
" I will do the best I can."
" That is all I ask."
Bertha spent an hour in talking to her sister
about her conduct in her new home; and Fanny,
who seemed to be in a better frame of mind than
ever before, listened atentively to all she said, and
promised faithfully to conquer her pride, and give
Mrs. Lamb no trouble. She said she would, wait
upon herself, and never complain of her food or
her apartment. Bertha regarded this as a
triumph, for she felt that Fanny would try to do
all she promised.
Richard turned up his nose at the idea of hav-
ing his sister board with a washerwoman ; but as
neither his figures nor his common sense could
suggest a better plan, he was compelled to yield.
" Now, Richard, you must let me have some of
your money; for, to guard against any accident,
I wish to pay Fanny's board for two or three
months in advance."
" I can't spare any money now. What's the
use of paying her board before it is due ? '
140 Rich and Humble, or
" We do not know what may happen. You and
I can take care of ourselves; and I think it is no
more than right that we should provide for Fanny
bevond the chance of an accident."
t/
" But we must pay our own board."
" Of course, we cannot remain at this hotel."
" Certainly we can, at least for a time."
" What do you intend to do, Eichard, for a
living?"
" I don't know. I shall find something. How
much money do you want ? '
" You had better give me twenty dollars. That
will pay Fanny's board for ten weeks."
" Twenty dollars ! Why, that is more than half
of all I have," replied Richard, dismayed at the
prospect of parting with so much of his funds.
Bertha had a double motive in asking for this
large proportion of Richard's money. The first
was, to secure the payment of Fanny's board, in
case her plans for the future should fail ; and the
second was, that she had but little confidence in *
her brother's firmness. She feared that while his
money lasted, he would do nothing to help him-
self; that, while his pride had even thirty-five dol-
lars for a foundation, he would spend his time in
idleness, and perhaps do worse.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 141
Actuated by these motives, she reasoned with
him so forcibly and eloquently, that he at last
handed her the money; but he gave it up with a
protest, and with many regrets. After breakfast
the bill at the hotel was paid, and Fanny was
taken to her new home. Bertha remained with
her that day, putting her room and her wardrobe
in order, and instructing her still further in the
duties and relations of her new position.
Notwithstanding the odium of boarding with a
washerwoman, Fanny liked the place very well,
and even thought she should be contented with
Mrs. Lamb, who certainly did every thing she
could to smooth down the fall from the palace to
the cottage.
During the day, Ben and Noddy paid them a
visit. The little savage seemed to take quite a
sensible view of the new order of things ; and when
Bertha told him what had been done for him, he
agreed to remain with Ben, and be a good boy,
if she would come and see him as often as she
could.
Towards night, Bertha returned to the hotel,
where she found a letter from Richard,
142 Rich and Humble, or
CHAPTER XL
IN WHICH BERTHA STARTS FOR NEW YORK, AND
MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE OF MASTER CHARLEY
BYRON.
BERTHA was not a little startled when the clerk
of the hotel handed her the letter, upon which she
recognized the handwriting of her brother. It was
ominous of disaster; at least, it suggested that
Eichard was not at hand to speak for himself; and
she feared that his quick impulses had led him to
take a step of which he had not, probably, con-
sidered the consequences. It required some
courage to open a letter from him under such cir-
cumstances, and she held it in her hand for some
moments before she could muster resolution
enough to break the seal ; and when she did so?
her worst fears were confirmed.
Richard wrote that he had been engaged by a
gentleman to take his boat down to New York.
He was to receive five dollars for the job; and as
it admitted of no delay, he had been obliged to
sail at once, without seeing her. At the close of
the epistle, Richard boasted a little of his first
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 143
success in earning money, and declared that, when
he got to the city, he should certainly find employ-
ment which would be both agreeable and profit-
able; and when he did, he would inform her of
the fact.
The thoughtless, impulsive boy had actually
abandoned his sister, and, full of hope and con-
ceit, had embarked in his career of life. Perhaps
he thought Bertha was abundantly able to take
care of herself, and did not need any assistance
from him, but it would have been more honorable
and gallant in him if he had left a few dollars
in her hands to pay her way until she could make
a beginning.
Bertha's doubts and fears were not for herself.
She knew that Richard was thoughtless and
flmiitv, and she trembled lest he should again
<D */ 7
fall into evil company. The city would have been
a bad place for him under any circumstances, but
doubly so if he had no one to give him a friendly
word of advice. He had gone, and whatever she
thought or felt in regard to him, nothing could be
done to bring him back. She was now alone. The
family had separated, and the path of each seemed
to be in a different direction from that of the
others.
144 Rich and Humble, or
She could not think of her situation without a
feeling of sadness. A sense of loneliness which
she had not before experienced came over her,
which, with her anxiety for the fate of her father
and her brother, had a very depressing influence
upon her. But she had no time to indulge in
sentimental emotions, for life had suddenly be-
come real to her, and stern necessity compelled
her to make it earnest.
As she had now disposed of Fanny, and Rich-
ard had disposed of himself, she had nothing to
do but to apply herself to the remaining duty of
the hour. She must go to work ; but what to do,
and where to find a place, were very perplexing
questions. She was willing to do any thing that
she could, even to labor with her hands, if it
would afford her the means of supporting herself
and her sister.
With these thoughts in her mind, she walked
through the principal street of Whitestone, to ob-
tain any suggestion which the stores and other
places of business might give her. In her walks
through the place in more prosperous days, she
had occasionally seen a notice posted in the win-
dows, of a " Saleswoman wanted," or, " A young
lady to act as Cashier." She walked up the street
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 145
on one side, and down on the other, attentively
examining every window and door, in search of
such a notice. But Whitestoue at the present time
did not need a saleswoman or a cashier. Disap-
pointed and disheartened by her ill success, she
walked down to the river, not from any motive,
but because she had nowhere else to go.
Now, for the first time since she had read her
brother's letter, the thought came to her with fear-
ful force, that she had less than half a dollar in
the world. This was not enough to pay for her
lodging at the hotel, and she had not been to
supper. Poverty seemed more terrible to her now
than ever before. She began to feel that her sit-
uation was not only trying, but absolutely appall-
ing. Even hunger and cold threatened to assail
her, for the little money she had would not supply
the necessities of life for even a single day. She
could not dig, and she was ashamed to beg.
It was now growing dark, and she could not
with safety remain in the streets any longer.
There was only one house in the vicinity at which,
she believed she should be welcome, and this was
the house of the widow Lamb. It was revolting to
her pride to force herself, as it were, upon a
stranger; but she could not go to the hotel, and
146 Rich and Humble, or
there was no other way to do. It was after the
supper hour, and on her way through the village,
she stopped at a restaurant, and had a very simple
supper of tea and bread and butter ; but even this
was purchased with a large part of all her worldly
wealth.
Mrs. Lamb welcomed her to her humble cottage,
and she passed the night with Fanny. But the
future looked so blank and dismal to poor Bertha,
that she was less cheerful than usual, though she
tried to conceal her doubts and fears from the
widow and from her sister. Fanny had a thou'
sand questions to ask, to only a few of which
Bertha could give satisfactory answers.
" Have you got a place to work yet? ' was put
a dozen times by the inquisitive little girl.
" I have not," answered Bertha, sadly ; " and I
am afraid I shall not be able to find one in White
stone.''
"What will you do?"
" I must go to the city, I suppose."
" Then you will see father."
" I shall certainly trv to see him."
*, «/
" You will tell him that I am a good girl—-
won't you? '
" I will, Fanny, and I am afraid that will be
the best news I shall have for him."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 147
" Tell him, too, that I am very sorry he is in
prison, and I would do any thing to get him out."
" I will, Fanny," replied Bertha, as she threw
her arms around her neck and kissed her. " You
have been a good girl to-day, and Mrs. Lamb
savs you have not only given her no trouble, but
i/ t> «/ O
that you have helped her a great deal about her
work."
" I tried to be good, Bertha," said Fanny. " 1
haven't complained a bit."
" I hope you never will."
" But I don't want you to go off and leave me."
" I must go, Fanny ; but one of these days we
shall meet again, and be all the happier for the
trials and sorrow which we have been called upon
to endure."
" I hope we shall," replied Fanny, whose con-
duct during the first day of her residence at the
cottage had been very hopeful.
Fanny turned over and went to sleep after she
had been duly praised and encouraged for her ex-
cellent demeanor. But Bertha's cup was too full
to permit her to sleep. The morrow's sun prom-
ised to dawn upon a day of greater trial and dif-
ficulty than she had yet known. Twenty cents was
all the money she had in the world, and White-
148 Rich and Humble, or
stone had no employment to give her. She must
go to Xew York ; but how to get there was beyond
her comprehension. The distance was twenty-
five miles, and she had not the means to pay her
fare by railroad or steamboat.
The thought of borrowing a few dollars oc-
curred to her; but there was no one, except the old
boatman, of whom she would dare ask such a
favor. Her pride — that self-respect which gives
dignity and nobility to the character — revolted at
the idea of asking even him for money, which she
might never be able to pay. But while she was
perplexed and agitated by these difficult problems,
nature kindly came to her aid, and she dropped
asleep without any plan for the coming day.
She was going to leave the cottage at an early
hour the next morning, but Mrs. Lamb pressed her
to remain until after breakfast; and then, with
many tears, she bade farewell to her sister, not
daring to believe that they would soon meet again.
Bertha was stronger and more courageous than
she had been on the preceding evening; for the
more we look trials and troubles in the face, the
more familiar we become with them, and the less
terrible do they seem to us.
With a feeling that she had only half done her
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 149
work the night before, she again walked through
the main street, and even had the hardihood to
enter several of the larger stores and apply for a
situation. Although she had no better success
than before, she was strengthened by the con-
sciousness that she had permitted no false pride
to come between her and the attainment of her
purpose. She had done all she could do in White-
stone, and it would be of no avail to remain there
any longer.
Then came up the question again, how should
she get to the city; for she had fully determined
to go there. She could not walk, and she could
not pay her fare. Why could she not walk, she
asked herself. She was healthy and strong, and
had always been accustomed to a great deal of
out-door exercise. There were no impossibilities
to one in her situation, and whatever the result
she would be no worse off on the way than if she
remained in Whitestone. She decided at once to
start, and leave the issue in the hands of that
kind Providence which never permits the true and
the good to be utterly cast down.
She would not think of leaving Whitestone
without saying good by to Ben and Noddy; and
for this purpose she went down to the wharf,
150 Rich and Humble, or
where the boatman had the day before commenced
*/
business with his new boat. Much to her regret,
she found they had gone up the river with a
party of gentlemen, and would not return till
late in the evening. Disappointed at this intelli-
gence, she went to the hotel, where she had left her
trunk, and wrote a short note to Ben, informing
him of her intention. The clerk kindly promised
to take care of her trunk till she sent for it, and
she turned from the house to commence her weary
pilgrimage.
Following the road near the bank of the river,
she walked patiently and perseveringly for three
hours, till she heard a clock on a church strike
twelve. She was so faint and weary that she
could walk no further, and seated herself under a
tree by the side of the river, to rest herself. She
had retired a short distance from the road, so that
she need not be subject to the rude gaze of those
who passed.
In the last village through which she passed, she
had bought three small rolls ; and upon these she
made her dinner. A few blackberries that grew in
the field were a great addition to the feast. Re-
freshed by her meal, and by an hour of rest, she
resumed her walk. She had gone but a short dis-
tance before her attention was attracted by the
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 151
loud cries of a child in a pasture adjoining the
highway. The screams were so piteous that she
could not help getting through the fence, and has-
tening to the spot from whence they came, where
she found a little boy, very prettily dressed, and
evidently the child of wealthy parents, sitting
on a stone. His eyes were red and swollen with
weeping, and he was sobbing and moaning as
though he had some real cause of grief. He was
apparently about six years old. Bertha, moved
by his distress, took him tenderly by the hand, and
gently patted his head, to assure him she was his
friend.
"What is the matter, little boy?' she asked,
when she had fully convinced him that she was
not an evil spirit sent to torment him.
" I don't know the way home," blubbered the
little fellow.
" Don't cry any more, and I think we can find
vour home. What is your name ? "
i/ f
" Charley."
"Haven't you got another name?'
" Charley Byron. I am six years old last May.
t/ *. ^ </ /
and Millard Fillmore is President of the United
States," replied Charley, suddenly brightening up,
and wiping away the great tears that still lingered
on his cheek.
152 Rich and Humble, or
" You are a nice little fellow, and your educa-
tion has not been neglected, I see."
" I can spell cat ; c-a-t, cat," continued Charley,
who appeared to have forgotten all his sorrows.
" You spelled it right," said Bertha, with a
smile. " Do you know where your father lives? '
" My father lives in a great house on the hill ;
and I guess Mary'll catch it for letting me get
lost."
" Where is Mary now ? '
" I don't know where she is. She sat down on
a rock and went to sleep. I was looking for black-
berries, and when I wanted to find Mary again, I
couldn't. I have been walking ever so long, and
I can't find Mary," said Charley, beginning to look
very sad again.
" Don't cry any more, and I will help you find
your father's house."
Bertha remembered that she had passed a large
house on a hill, only a short distance back, and
taking Charley's hand, she led him to the road.
It was a hard walk for little Charley, for he was
so tired he could hardly move at all ; but Bertha
assisted him as much as she could, and at last
they came to the gateway of the great house.
" That's my father's house," said Charley, just
before they reached the gate.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 153
"You can find your way now — can't you?'
asked Bertha.
" Yes, but I want you to come up and see my
mother."
" I think I will not go any further."
" Yes, but I want you to come up and see my
mother; and you must come."
V
" I am very tired, Charley, — almost as tired as
you are, — and I do not feel like walking up the
hill."
" You can rest in my house."
" I think I will not go up, Charley."
" But YOU must come. I can't find the wav if
*/ t/
you don't," said Charley, tugging at Bertha's hand
with a zeal which would permit no denial.
" If I must, I must," said Bertha, yielding the
point.
" I want to show you my new rocking horse.
Father sent it up yesterday, and it is a real nice
one."
Charley led the way up to the front door of the
house, and pulled Bertha in after him. His
mother, who had been terribly worried at his long
absence, greeted him in the entry with a kiss, and
asked him where the nurse was.
Charley told his story in his childish way, and
154 Rich and Humble, or
it was fully confirmed by the presence of Bertha,
who was warmly welcomed by the grateful lady.
" Mary is growing very remiss of late, and I
must discharge her," said Mrs. Byron, when they
were seated in the sitting room. " It isn't safe to
trust Charley with her. The dear little fellow
may get into the river. I have been worrying this
half hour about him."
" He was crying bitterly when I found him,"
added Bertha.
" It was very good of you to take so much
trouble."
" I couldn't leave him while he was so full of
grief."
While they were talking, the delinquent nurse
arrived, very much alarmed at the sudden disap-
pearance of her charge. But when she saw
Charley, she was greatly relieved, and invented a
very plausible story to account for the accident.
The story disproved itself, without any help from
Charley or Bertha; and the result was, that her
mistress, provoked by her falsehood as much as by
her neglect, promptly discharged her.
While Mrs. Byron was paying the girl, Charley
exhibited his new rocking horse, and other treas-
ures ; but Bertha was absorbed by a new idea, she
did not pay much attention to his prattle.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 155
CHAPTER XII.
IN WHICH BERTHA BECOMES A GOVERNESS, AND RE-
SIDES AT BLUE HILL.
" THERE/' said Mrs. Byron, as she joined her
little son on the piazza, when the nurse had gone,
" that is the fourth person I have had to take care
of Charley. Now she is gone, and I don't know
where I shall get another. It is not every person
that I am willing to trust to take care of nay little
boy."
" It must be very trying to you," added Bertha,
thoughtfully.
" I paid her ten dollars a month for her serv-
ices : but I tremble to think of the dangers which.
Charley has escaped while in the care of these
negligent servants."
" I suppose you would think I am too young to
take care of Charley?" said Bertha, while her
cheek crimsoned, and her heart seemed to rise up
into her throat.
" You ! " exclaimed the lady, with a smile, as
she glanced at Bertha, from head to foot.
" Yes, madam; if you could give me twelve dol-
156 Rich and Humble, or
ars a month, I should like to obtain the situa-
tion of governess of the child. I have had some
experience in teaching children."
" You astonish me, miss. I do not even know
your name yet."
" Bertha " She was about to give her whole
name, but the thought suddenly occurred to her,
that, if she did so, her application would at once
be rejected ; and, without stopping to consider
whether it was right or wrong to give a false
name, she added, " Bertha Loring."
No sooner had she given this name than she
regretted it; but conscious that she had no evil
intention in doing so, she did not attempt to cor-
rect the error.
" Bertha Loring," added Mrs. Byron. " How
old are you? '
" I am nearly fourteen."
" But you said you had had some experience in
teaching children," said the lady, rather incredu-
lously.
" Yes, ma'am. It was in a kind of mission
school, and it was voluntary teaching."
" Ah, that, indeed," mused Mrs. Byron. " You
are rather young, especially for the salary you
ask."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 157
" I have a sister who is dependent upon me for
support, and I must do something by which I can
earn about three dollars a week."
" Have you any testimonials of character or
ability?"
" None, ma'am ; I have never been in any situ-
ation yet."
" It would hardly be proper for me to place my
only child in the care of a total stranger."
" Very true, ma'am/' sighed Bertha ; " but I
have none."
" But I like your appearance and manners very
much, and I am very grateful for what you have
done for Charley. Perhaps you could refer me to
some person with whom you are acquainted."
Bertha was about to mention the name of the
clergyman in Whitestone, whose church her fath-
er's family had rttended; but as the words were
upon her lips, she happened to remember that she
had not given her real name, and that the minister
would not know any such person as Bertha Lor-
mg.
" For reasons which I could give, if necessary, I
would rather not refer to any of my former
friends," said Bertha.
" Your former friends ? " repeated the lady, who,
158 Rich and Humble, or
by this time had becrm to obtain some idea of
(/ <-Z?
the circumstances of the applicant. " Are they
not your friends now."
" I do not know, ma'am," sighed Bertha. " As
I have no references, I think I will take my
leave."
" Don't go yet, Miss Loring. I assure you I
feel a deep interest in you, and only a necessary
caution prevents me from engaging you at once.
You must perceive that your situation is quite
peculiar."
" Yes, ma'am, I know that it is ; and therefore
I am unwilling to trouble you any longer."
"You have evidently been well educated; and
at your age you cannot possibly be an adventurer."
Bertha was not very clear what the ladv meant
*/ */
by an adventurer, but she hastened to assure her
she was not one.
" And I should suppose from your name that
you belong to a good family."
" My father has been very unfortunate," replied
Bertha, " or I should not be an applicant for this
situation."
" Where is your father now ? '
" He is in New York city."
" Possibly my husband knows him/' added the
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 159
lady. "Loring? Loring?' she continued, rnus-
ing.
" I don't think lie does," replied Bertha. " But,
ma'am, my father does not know that I am trying
to earn my own living and that of my sister. He
has very recently failed in business. My friends
don't know that I am an applicant for such a
place; and for reasons of my own, I wish to con-
ceal my movements, at least for the present. You
will excuse me from answering any question in
regard to my family."
Poor Bertha! It was her first attempt at de-
ception of any kind, and she could hardly play
the part she had chosen.
" I think I perfectly understand your position,
and as Charlev seems to like vou so well, I shall
IS V /
engage you at the salary you named."
" Thank you, ma'am," exclaimed Bertha, aston-
ished at the decision of Mrs. Byron. " You are
very generous to take me without testimonials or
reference ; but I assure you vour confidence shall
/ */ ts
not be undeserved."
" I am quite satisfied, or I shouldn't have ven-
tured to engage you under these circumstances.
Here, Charley; how would you like this young
ladv to take care of vou ? "
160 Rich and Humble, or
" O, ever so much, ma ! ' exclaimed Charley,
jumping off his horse, and seizing the new govern-
ess by the hand.
" She will teach you to read, Charley," added
his mother.
" O, goody ! I want to be able to read my
picture books; but I can spell cat now; c-a-t
cat."
" 'Till you learn, I will read them to you
Charley," said Bertha, who had already begun to
feel a strong interest in her young charge.
" Have you any taste for music, Miss Loring? '
" I can play and sing a little," replied Bertha,
modestly.
"Come and let me hear you play?' said
Charley, as he tugged away at the hand of Bertha,
and finally dragged her into the parlor, where the
piano was located.
" He is very fond of music," remarked Mrs. By-
ron, as she followed them into the parlor.
Bertha played several simple pieces for the
amusement of the little boy, and played them so
well that the mother was even more delighted than
the child. Then, at the special request of Charley,
she played and sang " Three Blind Mice," which
suited him so well, that he called for more. For
The Mission of Bertha Grant. i6r
an hour she engaged the attention of both her au-
ditors; and then the heir of Blue Hill, as the
estate of Mr. Byron was called, clamored for
" pickers," which, rendered into the vernacular^
meant pictures.
Charley produced pencils, paper, and a slate?
and insisted that Bertha should " make a house.'*
She had early developed a decided taste and
talent for drawing, and up to the commencement
of the summer vacation, she had taken lessons of
an artist whose cottage was in the neighborhood
of Woodville. Her teacher declared that she
would make an artist, and quite a number of her
pencil drawings adorned the walls of her father's
house. In the extremity of her want and sorrow,
she had thought of applying her talent to a prof-
itable use, and she had not yet given up the idea.
S3ie took the pencil which Charley brought, and
made a house which was entirely satisfactory.
Then she made men, and horses, and carts, and
other objects which the young gentleman called ,
for, so that she soon became a prodigy in his
eyes, and of course, as the mother saw with the
child's eyes, she was equally a wonder in her es-
timation.
When Charley began to grow weary of pictures,
162 Rich and Humble, or
both of them were well rested from the fatigue of
their walk, and the child proposed a ramble in
the garden, where Bertha was just as pleasing and
just as instructive as she had been at the piano
and with the pencil.
At six o'clock, Mr. Byron came home, and heard
with astonishment the change which had been
made in the domestic affairs of the family. Mas-
ter Charley had considerable to say about his new
governess, as his mother had already taught him
to call her, and he recommended her so highly,
that the father was well satisfied with the change.
As soon as she had an opportunity, she wrote
to Ben, informing him what and where she was,
and asking him to send her trunk to her. On
the following day, the trunk was brought down
in the boat, and she had a visit from Ben and
Noddy. The old man was glad to see her so
well situated, but he had his doubts about the
change of name. Noddy jumped and capered like
an antelope, and astonished Charley by throwing
back somersets and forward somersets, and by
such gyrations as the little fellow had never seen
before. The visit was a pleasant one to all par-
ties, and Ben and Noddy left with the promise to
call again in a short time.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 163
While Bertha was watching the boat as it sped
on its way up the river, she heard a sharp cry
from Charley, and on turning, saw him lying on
the ground.
" Why, what's the matter, Charley ? " she cried,
lifting him up.
" I bumped my head, and hurt me," replied he.
Bertha examined the injured member, and
found a pretty smart bump on the summit of his
cranium, which she washed in cold water from
the river, and rubbed it till Charley declared it
was quite well.
" How did YOU do it? " asked she.
t
" I was trying to do what Noddy did, and hit
my head upon a stone."
" You mustn't try to do such things as that."
" Noddy did it."
" Noddy is a little wild boy. I have told him
a great many times not to do such things. It
isn't pretty, and you must not try to do so again."
" I should like to do what Noddy did, and I
mean to try it again."
" Don't, Charley ; you may get a worse bump
than YOU did this time."
•>
" I don't care if I do ; if Noddy did it, I can."
But before the forcible argument which the
164 Rich and Humble, or
governess brought forward, Master Charley finally
promised not to break his head in vain attempts
to do what was neither pretty nor proper for the
heir of Blue Hill to do.
A few days after the visit of the boatman, she
received a letter from Richard, which had been for-
warded to her from Whitestone. He wrote in ex-
cellent spirits, and said he had obtained a situa-
tion on board of a gentleman's yacht, and was
about to sail for Newport. He had seen his father
in the Tombs. He was to be examined on the fol-
lowing day, and fully expected to be discharged.
This was all Richard said about his father. It
wras meagre enough, and very unsatisfactory to
Bertha. She had not the money to pay the ex-
pense of a visit to the city, or she would have
asked leave of absence for a day, to go and see
him. She had written several letters to him, but
had not yet received any reply, and therefore sup-
posed they did not reach him.
Bertha soon found that her situation was not a
bed of roses. Mrs. Byron was not an angel. Her
temper was not angelic, and the governess was
sometimes compelled to submit to harsh and un-
merited rebuke, couched in such language as she
had never heard before.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 165
The hopeful heir of Blue Hill, though he could
spell " cat " and knew that Millard Fillmore was
President of the United States, was not yet fit to
put on his wings and become a cherub. He had
some of his mother's temper, and a great deal of
his own obstinacy. He was an onlv child, and as
t/ t,
such had been indulged, as far as indulgence would
go; and Bertha found that she was expected to
lead, not to govern him. If Charley wanted to
jump into the river, she was to find arguments to
convince him that the cold water was uncomforta-
ble, and might drown him. If he wranted to eat
green apples, she was to persuade him not to do
so, and not make him cry by taking them away
from him.
One day he took a notion that certain unripe
winter pears would be " good to take,'' and had
actually bitten one of them, when Bertha, with
as little force as was needful, took it from him,
and threw it away. Charley set up a howl which
made the ground shake under him, and brought
his mother from the house. The heir of Blue
Hill told his story, and Bertha was sharply
scolded for crossing the dear little fellow.
When Mrs. Byron suggested that the young gen-
tleman ought to commence learning his letters,
i66 Rich and Humble, or
the governess applied herself with becoming zeal
to the task of teaching him those mysterious
characters. For ten minutes Charley gave his
attention ; then he wanted her to read a story. In
vain she coaxed him to learn the letters; it was
plain that he had no taste for the heavy work of
literature. Day after day she attempted to fasten
his mind upon the A B C, but with no better suc-
cess. She resorted to all the expedients she could
devise, but Charlev was as obstinate as a mule.
/ i/
These were some of her trials — trials with
Master Charley; trials with his mother. Bertha
faithfully persevered, and endured every thing
without a murmur. But her charge was some-
times a little lamb, as pretty and as cunning as
child could be; and there were hours of sunshine
— oases in the desert of trial and care.
When Bertha had been at Blue Hill about a
week, Mr. Byron gave a large dinner party, and
the house was filled with all the fine folks of the
surrounding country. Mrs. Byron was very much
afraid Charley would get into his " tantrums '' in
the presence of the company, and thus convince
them that he was not an angel in spite of his
velvet tunic and his lace-frilled trousers. During
the dinner hour, therefore, — a period in which
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 167
Charley was peculiarly liable to be attacked by
unaccountable humors, — Bertha was required to
keep him in the nursery, and also to keep him in
excellent temper.
By dint of extraordinary tact and perseverance,
she succeeded in accomplishing both these ends,
and congratulated herself upon the hope that she
should thus escape the unwelcome infliction of
seeing any of the visitors. It was quite probable
that among them were many friends of her father,
and the fear of being recognized, and her little
deception exposed, was terrible. The dinner hour
was a fashionable one, and before the party rose
from the table Charley's bed time had arrived, and
she was on the point of disposing of him for the
night, when Mrs. Byron entered the nursery.
" The company have just gone to the parlor,
and they all insist upon seeing Charley," said
she.
Bertha was appalled ; but it was useless to offer
any objections, and she proceeded to prepare her
charge for the ordeal.
" I suppose it is not necessary for me to appear
with him," said she, in an indifferent tone, which
but ill concealed her anxiety.
" Certainly it is," replied Mrs. Byron, sharply.
1 68 Rich and Humble, or
" You must go with him, and be sure that you
make him appear to the best advantage. You
can tell him some cunning little things to say be-
fore he goes down. Let him come into the room
with his hat on, and his little cane in his hand."
" Wouldn't you excuse me from going with
him? " pleaded Bertha.
" Certainly not."
" I will go with him to the door, and tell him
what to say," added Bertha.
" I thought you were brought up in a good
family," sneered Mrs. Byron. " You surely are
not afraid to appear in company."
" Not afraid to, ma'am, but I do not like to
do so."
" Whether you like it or not, you must do so.
Now be sure that Charley appears well, and shows
himself to the best advantage," said Mrs. Byron,
as she sailed out of the room.
There was no alternative, and Bertha prepared
for the trial. Charley's plumed hat was put upon
his head, his cane placed in his hand, and he was
duly marched into the presence of the company.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 169
CHAPTER XIII.
IN WHICH BERTHA LOSES HER SITUATION, AFTER
MASTER CHARLEY HAD MADE A SENSATION.
MASTER CHARLEY strutted into the parlor, cane
in hand, and was warmly greeted by the guests,
who, as a matter of politeness, if nothing else,
were in duty bound to admire his curly head and
his cunning manners. For a time, therefore,
Bertha escaped observation, and the heir of Blue
Hill was the centre of attraction.
"I can spell cat; c-a-t, cat," roared Charley;
" and I can spell dog; h-o-g, dog: and Millard
Fillmore is President of the United States."
" Now, who is Governor of New York,
Charley?' whispered Bertha.
" O, I know ! " and Charley scratched his head
/ Lf
and disarranged the curls, to the horror of his
mother. " O, I know who is Governor of New
York : it is Captain Kyd ; and he buried lots of
money round here, somewhere."
The company laughed heartily at this sally, and
thought it was very cunning ; but Bertha blushed
170 Rich and Humble, or
at the carelessness of her pupil, and Mrs. Byron
looked daggers at the governess. The exhibition
of Charley's quick points promised to be a failure;
and Bertha was sadly perplexed, for she felt that
she was not giving satisfaction.
But there was still one more hope left. She had
taught Charley to play " Days of Absence ' with
one finger on the piano, and she thought he might
possibly make a sensation with this, if he had not
forgotten it, as he had almost every thing else.
She placed him upon the stool, and putting the
finger in the right place, the young gentleman
went through this performance in a very credita-
ble manner, very much to the surprise even of his
mother, who had not heard him do it. The guests
clapped their hands, and expressed their admira-
tion in no measured terms, which so excited the
vanity of the child, that he immediately proceeded
to perform another astounding feat, which was
not put down in the programme. This was no
less than throwing a back somerset, in imitation
of Xoddv Newman.
ft/
If the experiment had not been a failure, no
doubt it would have been received with rapturous
applause, as every thing he did was received ; but
Charley was not quite equal to a back somerset,
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 171
and struck the floor upon the top of his head.
The new sensation was a decidedly unpleasant one
to the heir of Blue Hill, and was not at all agree-
able to the company. It was followed by a yell
that would have been creditable to a tiger in the
jungles of Hindostan. Bertha ran to his assist-
ance, picked him up, and rubbed the bump which
had been so suddenly developed. It was the bump
of self-esteem unnaturally enlarged, which was
entirely unnecessary, for Charley had a super-
abundance before the accident.
The sympathizing guests gathered around the
wounded hero, and endeavored to console him ; but
he bawled incessantly, and refused to be com-
forted. Mrs. Byron was shocked, and declared
that the mishap had resulted from the careless
governess, introducing the boy to bad company.
But whatever the cause, and whatever the efforts
used to induce Master Charley to moderate his
excessive grief, he wept and roared as one without
hope.
" Take him to the nursery," said Mrs. Byron, in
a whisper to Bertha.
" Come up stairs with me, Charley, and I will
make a house for you," said Bertha.
" I won't go up stairs. I don't want any of
172 Rich and Humble, or
your old pictures/' bawled the discomfited hero.
" Come up with me, and I will sing ' Three
Blind Mice ' to you."
" I won't."
" We will play horse, then."
" I don't want to play horse. I am going to
stay here as long as I please."
Bertha was tempted to pick him up, and carry
him out of the room; but this would be violation
of all rule and precedent. In vain she coaxed
him ; in vain she promised to play every thing and
sing every thing. Charley had lost his temper,
and nothing could move him. A spoiled child on
exhibition, especially when he performs after the
manner of Master Charley on the present oc-
casion, is disgusting to all except his parents.
Mrs. Byron was not satisfied with the conduct of
her hopeful ; but instead of regarding it as the
result of a want of discipline, she attributed it
all to the mismanagement of the governess.
Bertha would have brought the scene to a con-
clusion, however unpleasant, without delay, if she
had dared to do so; but as Master Charley must
have his own way, no matter who suffered, or what
consequences followed, he was not taken from the
room by the strong hand of authority. He
The Mission of Bertha Grant.
bawled till his throat must have been sorer than
his head, and the company were tired of the music.
At last, a gentleman, despairing of any relief,
look out his watch, and offered to show the works
to the disconsolate heir. This was a rare treat,
and Charley had the grace to yield the point, and
submit to a treaty of peace, or at least to a sus-
pension of hostilities.
"How do you do, Miss Grant?" said a gentle-
man who had been observing Bertha with close
attention for some time, as he stepped forward
and extended his hand.
She took it, blushed deeply, and stammered out
a reply, for Mrs. Byron was standing by her side.
"How is your father?" asked the gentleman.
" He is not very well. I have not seen him
lately."
" I have frequently met you at Woodville ; per-
haps you do not remember me.''
" Yes, sir, I do."
" I have been at the south for some months, and
returned yesterday. Do you still reside at Wood'
ville?"
"No, sir."
" You are visiting your friends here, I suppose.
It is very kind of you to attempt to manage that
174 Rich and Humble, or
child," he added, in a low tone, as Mrs. Byron's
attention was called to a rupture between Charley
and his new friend, whose watch the dear little
fellow insisted upon picking to pieces.
" He is very hard to manage," replied Bertha.
" A spoiled child," added the gentleman, as Mrs.
Byron returned to the spot.
" My governess is wholly incompetent," said
she angrily, for she had heard the last remark.
" Charley is a good boy, and, when properly
managed, is as gentle as a lamb, Mr. Gray."
" He appears to be," added the gentleman,
satirically. " He evidently has a sweet temper,
and in due time will make a great and good man."
Mrs. Byron did not understand these remarks,
but took them as a compliment, and her anger was
partially appeased.
" He has had enough to try the temper of a
saint. He had nearly died with the cholera three
days ago from eating green apples, of which the
governess permitted him to partake."
Mr. Gray looked at Bertha, and evidently did
not believe this statement, for the sudden coloring
of Bertha's cheek seemed to refute the falsehood.
" Do I understand you that Miss Grant is the
child's governess?'
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 175
" Miss Loring," added Mrs. Byron.
" But this is tlie daughter of Mr. Grant, of
YToodville," said the gentleman, who was per-
plexed by the name and the relation which she
bore to the family.
•' Mv father has been unfortunate, and met with
V
some heavy reverses," stammered Bertha. " I am
engaged as a governess here."
" Pardon me," said Mr. Gray, who was now
greatly embarrassed. " As I said I have recently
come home, after an absence of some months, and
had not heard of the unpleasant position of your
father's affairs."
"Miss Grant?' said the lady of the house.
" Miss Loring, you can retire," she added in a loud
tone.
Bertha was too glad to obey this haughty com-
mand to object even to the tone in which it was
uttered. But when she had gone, Mrs. Byron
heard more about Mr. Grant and his affairs; for
there were several present who were acquainted
with him, and all had read the history of his
alleged fall in the papers. She learned that the
father of her governess was even then a prisoner
in the Tombs.
"•' To think that I have placed my only child in
the care of such a person I " exclaimed Mrs. Byron.
176 Rich and Humble, or
" Miss Bertha Grant is a very excellent young
lady," Mr. Gray ventured to suggest.
" She is an impostor ! ' said Mrs. Byron, who
seemed to feel that the governess was the cause
of all her mortal trials.
" At Woodville she was regarded as a young
lady of splendid abilities, and her mission to the
poor children of Dunk's Hollow was the admira-
tion of all the neighborhood," added Mr. Gray.
" I know of no person to whom I would more
willingly intrust mv children."
<U fc/ «/
" She is an impostor ! ' persisted Mrs. Byron.
" That is enough to condemn her ; ' and leaving
Charley to entertain the company in his fascinat-
ing way, she flounced out of the room, and has-
tened to the nursery, to which Bertha had already
retreated.
" Miss Loring, you have deceived and disap-
pointed me," she began, still flushed with anger.
" I am sorry I deceived you, Mrs. Byron, and I
hope you will forgive me, for I meant no harm to
you."
" You are an impostor ! '
" No, ma'am, I am not. I am just what I rep-
resented myself to be."
" Your father is in prison for fraud."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 177
" That is his misfortune, but it is not my fault,
replied Bertha, indignant at this brutal treat-
ment.
"Misfortune? Yes, that is what they always
call it when a man commits a crime."
" My father has committed no crime."
" You came here under a false name. You have
imposed upon me. I don't know what you are,,
even now. At any rate, you are not a fit person
to watch over the innocent life of my only child.
I tremble for him even now, after you have been
here onlv a week. Of course vou understand me."
*/ i/
" Your words are plain enough."
" I am not willing that you should remain here
another night," added the angry woman. " I have
trusted you too long."
" I hope I have not abused your confidence."
said Bertha, overwhelmed by this outburst of
abuse.
" I have not counted my spoons since you came."
" Madam, that is an insult that no lady would
put upon an unprotected girl. I will leave your
house immediately," answered Bertha, almost
stunned by this unfeeling charge.
" As quick as possible, if you please," sneered
the lady. " I dare not lose sight of you."
1 78 Rich and Humble, or
Bertha stepped into the adjoining room, and in
a few moments was dressed ready to leave the
house.
" I should like to look into your trunk before
YOU go,'' said Mrs. Byron, to whose malice there
seemed to be no limit.
" You cannot, madam," replied Bertha, firmly,
but respectfully.
" But I think I shall. Since I have found out
what you are. I have a great many doubts. Give
me the key of your trunk."
" Xo, madam, I will not. I will submit to no
further insult."
" I will see if you won't/'
" If you proceed any further, madam. I will ap-
peal to Mr. Gray for protection. He was my
father's friend, and I hope he is mine. I will
leave your house at once, and send for my trunk
as soon as I can."
" Xot till your trunk has been examined."
"Very well, madam; I will appeal to Mr.
Gray ; " and she passed out of the room.
" Stop, Miss Loring."
Bertha paused in the hall.
" If there is nothing in your trunk but what
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 179
belongs to you, you need not fear to have it
examined.
" There is nothing but my property in it ; but
I will not submit to such an insult."
" You can go ; and if Mr. Byron thinks it neces-
sary to search the trunk, he will do so."
" You have forgoten to pay me my salary,
madam," said Bertha.
" Dare you ask me for payment, after what has
happened? '
" I think I am justly entitled to what I have
earned."
" I don't think so, and you can go."
" But I want my wages, madam."
" I do not owe you any thing. You imposed
upon me, and you have done Charley more harm
than good. He never behaved as he did this even-
ing before since he was born."
"I think I have done my duty faithfully; at
least, I have tried to do it. I have not money
enough to pay my fare to the city, and I hope you
will not keep back my wages."
" I shall pay you nothing."
" I shall be very sorry to appeal to Mr. Gray for
assistance, but I shall have to ask him to lend
me a few dollars."
i8o Rich and Humble, or
" You impudent hussy ! " exclaimed Mrs. Byron,
in a great rage, as she again found herself in a
difficult position.
Mr. Gray was a wealthy and influential person,
and she would have given any sum rather than
permit him to know any thing about the matter.
Bertha said no more, but walked down the stairs,
intending to call Mr. Gray from the parlor, and
tell him the whole truth. When she reached the
lower hall, she heard the screams of Master
Charley, who had evidently had a falling out with
the owner of the watch.
" I want Miss Loring ! " screamed the little ruf-
fian.
She was about to approach the open door of the
parlor, when Mrs. Byron rushed down the stairs,
and in more gentle tones than she had heard her
use since the first day she came into the house,
called her by name. She paused, and the lady
joined her.
" Here is three dollars. I believe that is what
I owe you — is it not ? '
" Yes, madam ; thank you."
" Peter has a horse and wagon at the door, and
he will carry your trunk for you."
" Thank you, ma'am : you are very kind," said
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 181
Bertha, surprised at the sudden change in the
manner of the lady.
The powerful name of Mr. Gray had wrought
the change, with, perhaps, a consciousness that she
had exceeded the bounds of humanity and decency.
The lady stepped into the parlor and closed the
door behind her, that no one might witness the
departure of the discharged governess. Bertha
found in Peter a ready friend, and in a few
moments she was seated in the wagon by his side,
with her trunk in front of her.
" Where shall I drive you, Miss Loring? " asked
Peter, as they proceeded down the hill to the road.
" I hardly know, Peter," replied Bertha, sadly.
" I have no place to go."
"No place to go!" exclaimed he. "What are
you leaving at this hour of night for, then? '
" I was obliged to leave."
" Ah, I see how it is. I was afraid that brat \
would be the death of you; and when I heard
him screeching in the parlor, I thought there
would be a row for somebody. Then you have
been discharged? '
" I have."
" Turned out of the house at this hour of night,
with no place to go ! That woman has no more
soul than a brickbat."
182 Rich and Humble, or
" Is there a hotel in the village, Peter? "
" There is ; but it is uo place for a young girl
like you. If you will go to my poor cottage, you
shall have a poor man's welcome."
" Thank you, Peter. I shall be very grateful
to vou if you will let me remain with you till
morning."
«,.
I will, with all my heart."
Peter was head groom at Blue Hill, and his
house was only a short distance from the residence
of Mr. Byron. Peter's wife received her kindly,
and conducted her to the little spare chamber
which was appropriated to her use.
The groom evidently understood the temper of
the mistress of Blue Hill well enough to compre-
hend the nature of the difficulty which had driven
Bertha from her place, and neither he nor his wife
asked any questions. Although it was quite early
in the evening, the poor girl preferred to retire,
and her hostess offered no objection.
The events of the evening had been so rapid and
unexpected, that Bertha was entirely unprepared
for the shock which had so suddenly fallen upon
her. Again she was alone and friendless in the
world, and she could hardly expect another lucky
incident would supply her with a home, as had
The Mission of Bertna Grant. 183
been the case only a week before. But she was a
little better off than she had been then, for she
had three dollars in her purse, with which to pay
her fare to the city.
Before she went to sleep she committed herself
to the care of her heavenly Father, and felt confi-
dent that he would guide her steps, and protect
her in the midst of the trials which were before
her.
At breakfast the next morning, when Bertha an-
nounced her purpose of going to the city, Peter
offered to drive her down to the ferry, where she
could cross the river, and take the cars on the
other side. She gratefully accepted his offer, and
as soon as he could get the horse, he returned
from the stable.
In a short time Bertha was embarked on the
ferry, with many thanks to Peter and his wife for
their kindness, which, she assured him, should
never be forgotten. A ride of less than an hour
brought her to the great city, where every body
seemed to be rushing to and fro, as though the
salvation of the world depended upon the celerity
of their movements. None of them took any
notice of poor Bertha, and she was more alone in
the midst of the multitude than she had been
amidst the rural scenes she had just left.
184 Rich and Humble, or
She knew not what to do, or where to go; and
having left her trunk in charge of the baggage
master at the railroad station, she wandered down
Broadway.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 185
CHAPTER XIV.
IN WHICH BERTHA VISITS HER FATHER'S OFFICE, AND
ANSWERS AN ADVERTISEMENT IN THE HERALD.
BERTHA knew enough of the perils of the great
city to make her tremble, when she considered that
she was alone and unprotected. The prospect be-
fore her of finding suitable employment was ex-
ceedingly dark and hopeless. Though she had
often been in the city, and knew the principal
localities, every thing seemed new and strange to
her; the houses and the streets wore a different
aspect, for she was not now the daughter of the
rich broker, but the child of want, seeking the
opportunity to fulfil what had become the great
mission of her existence.
Though her first object was to obtain a situa-
tion where she might procure the means of sub-
sistence, this was not the mission of Bertha Grant-
She had in her mind, clearly and hopefully de-
fined, a higher and holier purpose. As at Wood-
ville, in the midst of luxury and plenty, she did
186 Rich and Humble, or
not live only to enjoy them; she now felt that she
had been sent into the world with a great work
given her to perform An earnest and true man,
from his pulpit in Whitestone, had given her the
idea, and she had pondered and cherished it till it
became a principle.
She believed she had been created to do good
to her fellow-beings, and with this noble thought
in her heart she had gone upon her mission to
the poor children of Dunk's Hollow. He who
spoke in Whitestone the words and the spirit of
Him of Nazareth spoke through Bertha to the
friendless and despised little ones who gathered
around her at the Glen. His words and her words,
spoken in faith and hope, and embodied in good
and generous deeds, were to yield their hundred
fold ; and though Bertha had been withdrawn
from her labors, the seed which she had sown were
still growing. Though some might perish, others
would live, and thrive, and mature.
In the same faith and hope which had led her
to gather together the children of Dunk's Hollow,
she was now laboring to save her father and her
brother — her father from suffering and sorrow,
her brother from himself. This was the present
mission of Bertha Grant ; and it was a part of the
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 187
great purpose of her existence. While she was in
want she could do nothing. The body must be
fed and clothed, and if she could obtain employ-
ment that would relieve her from absolute want,
she would be in condition to prosecute the greater
work of the hour.
Full cf these thoughts she walked down Broad-
way, with nothing to encourage her, and without
any plan or expectation to guide her doubtful foot-
steps. Slowly she threaded her wav through the
V V <-_*
dense crowd that always throngs the street, till she
came to the Park. All the way she had looked
in vain for any suggestion that might aid her in
accomplishing her purpose. In a few hours more
the night would come. She dared not go to a
hotel in the great city, and she trembled to think
of being friendless and homeless in those streets
where villains choose darkness for deeds of sin
and violence.
The thought filled her with terror, but it in-
spired her with new resolution. There was some-
thing to be done, and the hours for doing it were
few and short. Yet where should she go? She
could not answer this question, and involuntarily
she continued her walk down Broadway, till she
came to Wall Street. She was now in the vicinity
Rich and Humble, or
of her father's office, and she determined to go and
look at it, if nothing more.
It was a familiar locality, for she had often
been to see her father during business hours. To
her astonishment she found the office open, and
her father's clerk in his usual place at the desk.
This looked hopeful to her, and she entered, with
a beating heart, to inquire about her father.
" Miss Grant ! " exclaimed the clerk, as she came
in.
" Can you tell me any thing about my father? '
asked Bertha, as she seated herself in the chair
which the clerk offered her.
" I am sorry to say that I cannot give you
any good news from him/' required Mr. Sherwood,
gloomily.
"Where is he now?"
" He is where he was," said the clerk, with an
embarrassed air.
" In the prison, you mean."
" Yes, in the Tombs ; but I am as certain as
I am of my own existence, that he will come out
without the stain of dishonor upon him."
" I feel, I know, that he has been guilty of no
crime," added Bertha, earnestly.
" I suppose you understand the circumstances
under which he was arrested? "
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 189
« I do not."
" It is a rather complicated affair. He was ar-
rested on the charge of fraud."
" So I have understood."
" But he is no more guilty of fraud than I am ;
and if we can only get a chance to let the truth
out, we shall make the matter plain to the whole
world. Grayle is at the bottom of the whole af-
fair. He is your father's enemv."
i/ t-
" He is a very rude and hard man," said Bertha,
recalling the incidents of her departure from
Woodville.
" Three or four years ago your father spoiled a
dishonest speculation in which Grayle and others
were engaged ; this made him an enemy, though
they still kept on good terms together. Some
months since Mr. Grant borrowed fifty thousand
&/
dollars of him, giving him certain English securi-
ties as collateral."
" I really don't know what vou mean " said
ts v /
Bertha.
" The securities were certain papers, by which
Brace Brothers, a large English banking firm, sup-
posed to be very wealthy, promised to pay certain
sums of money," continued the clerk, smiling at
the perplexed look of Bertha. " In other words,
Rich and Humble, or
Brace Brothers promised to pay your father (01
the holder of the paper) twelve thousand pounds."
" I understand that."
" This money was to be drawn in bills of ex-
t1
change, or orders. Now, when your father wanted
a large sum for immediate use, he gave them to
Mr. Grayle as security, because the bills of ex-
change were not to be drawn till September. The
very next steamer that came in brought intelli-
gence of the suspension of Brace Brothers — that
is, they had stopped payment — did not pay their
notes and other obligations."
" I understand it very well."
€/'
" Well, Grayle declared that your father knew
these securities were worthless when he gave them
to him, and immediately accused him of fraud.
He came into the office very much excited, and
•^ 7
talked to your father as no gentleman ever talked
to another. Your father resented the charge,
which made Grayle all the more angry and ex-
cited."
" But how could he accuse my father of fraud,
when all this happened before it was known that
Brace Brothers had suspended ? '
" There was some reason," said the clerk, after
a pause. " One of Grayle's friends had a letter,
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 191
which had come before the transaction, in which
Brace Brothers mentioned their financial embar-
rassments; but I am certain your father had no
suspicion that they were weak. In fact," said
Mr. Sherwood, dropping his voice to a very low
tone " I have a letter, which I carry in my pocket
since vour father was arrested, that will set the
€/
matter all right. A friend of mine gave it to me.
Gra3'le would give a thousand dollars for this
letter," added the clerk, slapping his hand upon
his breast pocket, with a triumphant air.
" T hope you will save him," replied Bertha.
" I know I shall. Our own correspondence
with Brace Brothers shows that they believed
themselves to be sound and good. But this letter
will save him, if nothing else will. All we want is
to get the matter before the court. Grayle keeps
getting it put off, for if the truth comes out it will
ruin him."
" He has secured Wood vi lie," added Bertha.
" That was the only weak thing your father
did. Gravle went so far that vour father was
t/ «-
alarmed, and attempted to save his honor at the
expense of his property. He gave Grayle a bill of
sale of Woodville and all it contained, to keep him
quiet for few days, till he could raise the money
192 Rich and Humble, or
to pay him. The villain then arrested your father
and took possession of Woodville."
" The paper said my father was going to leave
the country."
" All nonsense ! He had no more idea of leav-
ing the country than I had. Grayle watched him
all the time; and when he went over to the Brit-
ish steamer to see a friend, who was going to
Europe, he had him arrested, and then circulated
the story which you read in the newspaper.
Every body believes just now that Mr. Grant is a
common swindler; but we will set that matter
right before long," added the clerk, confidently.
u I am sure I hope so. Could I see my father? '
" I am afraid not. Your brother got in, and
saw him ; but since then, orders have been given to
admit no one but his counsel. They wouldn't let
me in. Grayle is playing a deep game, and has
probably used his influence to prevent your father
from seeing his friends. He is a great villain."
Mr. Sherwood's opinions were decided, and were
very emphatically delivered. They were full of
hope and encouragement to Bertha, and she re-
joiced that she had been led to visit the office.
But, although she was comforted and assured by
the intelligence she had gained, there was nothing
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 193
in it which promised to supply her immediate
wants. She was still homeless and friendless, for
she had not the courage to place herself under the
protection of Mr. Sherwood. He was a young
man, and had been with her father but a few
months. At least, she was not prepared to adopt
this course until all other resources had failed.
There was nothing in the facts she had just
learned to change her purpose. Her father might
get out of prison, but he was a ruined man. Mr.
Sherwood might be mistaken in his estimate of
the value of the latter in his possesion. The
duty of providing for herself and Fanny seemed to
be just as imperative as ever.
Though she was not yet willing to ask the pro-
tection of her father's clerk, the time might come
within a few hours when she might be glad to do
so. He was ignorant of her real situation, and
supposed she was comfortably located in the house
of some friend or relative.
" Where shall I find you, Mr. Sherwood, in case
I should wish to see you again? " asked Bertha.
" You will find me here at all hours of the day
and night. I have not been out of the office for
more than half an hour at once since your father
was arrested. I sleep on that sofa. Grayle is
194 Rich and Humble, or
an unscrupulous wretch, and I don't think he
would hesitate to take any papers in the office
which would serve his purpose; or even to break
in, if he has the courage to do so."
"What a terrible man he must be!' added
"Bertha.
•' He offered me a situation in his office the day
after your father was arrested. I think he would
be willing to buy me up at any price."
" I am sure mv father will be grateful to vou."
t, C3 t/
" Your father always used me well, and I will
not desert him if all the rest of the world does."
" I am very thankful that he has so good a
friend."
" O, I only wish to do as I would be done by.
If you should want any thing, Miss Grant, you
can call upon me. There was a small sum of
money in the office when your father was arrested
though I suppose it will all come in use to pay the
lawyers, and other expenses."
" Thank you ; I don't need any thing at pres-
ent," replied Bertha, who would not have touched
a dollar that could be serviceable in effecting her
father's release.
At this point an elderly gentleman entered the
office, and began to make inquiries of Mr. Sher-
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 195
wood concerning her father. He looked earnestly
at Bertha for a moment, and appeared to be very
much excited. She thought his countenance
seemed familiar to her, though she was confident
she had never seen him before. The clerk, per-
haps thinking it would not be pleasant for her to
hear her father's situation discussed by a stranger,
conducted her into the private office, and gave her
the morning paper — the Herald.
Bertha wondered who the gentleman was, as she
glanced over the columns of the paper. His face
was strangely familiar, yet she was positive she
had never seen him. But her attention was soon
withdrawn from him by an advertisement in the
paper, which caught her eye. An old gentleman,
an invalid, advertised for a well-educated young
lady, to read to him, and act as amanuensis.
" If I could only get that place ! ' said she to
herself, as she wrote down on a slip of paper the
address mentioned in the advertisement.
There would be hundreds of applicants for the
situation ; but she could try to obtain it, and she
resolved to do so without a moment's delay. As
she passed through the other office, where the
stranger was engaged in earnest conversation with
the clerk, she said that she would call again some
196 Rich and Humble, or
other time, and hastened down the stairs to the
street.
The house of the invalid gentleman was in the
upper part of the city, and she got into a stage
in Broadway, lest some other applicant should
obtain the place before her. Without much diffi-
culty she found the house. It was a very large
and elegant establishment, and on the door was
the name of " F. Presby." With a trembling hand,
she rang the bell, which was answered by a man
in a white jacket, who brusquely demanded her
business.
" I wish to see Mr. Presby," replied Bertha.
"Which Mr. Presbv?"
«/
" The old gentleman — the invalid."
" Another person to answer the advertisement,"
said a female voice in the entry, beyond the inner
door. " Tell her he is not at home, John."
" Not at home, miss," repeated the man in the
white jacket.
" When will he be at home? " asked Bertha.
" He has gone out of town, and will not be in
again until next week."
" But he advertised for a young lady."
" Yes, miss, he did ; but, you see, the old gentle-
man is crazy, and don't know what he wants. At
any rate, he don't want any young lady."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 197
Poor Bertha's heart sank within her, as the nice
place which she had hoped to obtain proved to be
a mere shadow, and she stood gazing at the serv-
ant with a look of despair.
" Not at home, miss/' repeated the man, par-
tially closing the door, as a hint for her to leave,
She turned and descended the steps, the man
closing the door with a slam. But she had
scarcely reached the sidewalk, before she heard the
door open again. She turned to discover the
cause, and saw a tall, pale old gentleman, with a
dressing gown on, standing at the door.
" Do vou wish to see me?" asked he, in feeble
v s
tones.
" I called to see Mr. Presby," replied Bertha,
a ray of hope again lighting up her soul.
" Come in, if you please."
But the servant had told her that old Mr.
Presby was crazy, and did not want a young lady
to read to him. The thought of throwing herself
into the company of a lunatic was not pleasing;
but the sad, pale old gentleman looked so mild and
inoffensive that she concluded there must be some
mistake, and she followed him into the house.
198 Rich and Humble, or
CHAPTER XV.
IN WHICH BERTHA FINDS A NEW HOME, AND IS
MYSTIFIED BY STRANGE THINGS.
THE old gentleman conducted Bertha up the
stairs to the large front room which was fitted up
as a library. It was furnished in a plain, old-
fashioned manner, and was well supplied with
sofas, lounges, and easy chairs. As they entered
this room, the old gentleman closed the door be-
hind them, and offered her a chair.
Bertha almost wished she had not come in,
when Mr. Presby closed the door, for being alone
with an insane man was the most terrible thing
she could imagine. She did not at first dare to
take the chair to which the old gentleman beck-
oned her, but lingered near the door, ready to
make her escape when she should discover the first
symptom of insanity in the invalid.
" Be seated^ if you please," said the old gentle-
man.
" Thank you, sir," stammered Bertha, still re-
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 199
taming her place near the door, and gazing at the
invalid with the deepest anxiety.
But then it occurred to her that the rude serv-
vant had told her Mr. Presby was out of town,
which was certainly a falsehood ; and perhaps the
statement that he was crazy was equally false.
She had never seen an insane person; but Mr.
Presby did not look any different from any other
person. He was very sad and pale, and seemed to
be harmless.
" Won't you take a seat ? " asked he again, in a
tone so mild and gentle that she was almost con-
vinced he was not crazy.
She had heard that insane people are sometimes
quite rational, and only have fits of madness at
times. This might be the case with Mr. Presby,
and he might, at any moment, become a raving
maniac. But she took the chair, though she trem-
bled as she did so, and kept one eye upon the
door all the time.
" You wished to see me," continued the old
gentleman, as he seated himself near her — much
nearer than she wished to have him under the cir-
cumstances.
" Yes, sir," replied Bertha, looking at him full
in the eye, that she might discover the first symp-
20O Rich and Humble, or
toio of wildness in season to make her escape be-
fore lie could proceed to violence.
" Don't be alarmed," added Mr. Presby, with a
smile, as he evidently noticed her agitation.
" I — I-m — not alarmed," stammered Bertha, in
doubt whether she should apply for the situation.
" You are, I presume, an applicant for the place
which I advertised in the morning paper."
" Yes, sir ; I called to see about that ; but —
I — I don't know as the place will suit me," an-
swered she, still very much embarrassed at the
thought of becoming reader and amanuensis for a
crazy man.
" Well, my child, I don't wish you to take the
situation if you think it will not suit you," added
Mr. Presby, with a fatherly smile. " What is your
name? '
" Bertha Grant, sir."
" Why do you think the place would not suit
you?"
" Because — I, really, sir "
" You seem to have changed your mind very
suddenly."
" The servant told me you were out of
town
" And out of my head," said the invalid, with a
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 201
smile. " I begin to understand why you think the
situation will not suit you. The servant told vou
*/ f
that Mr. Presby was crazy, and did not want any
young lady."
" Yes, sir," replied Bertha, frankly.
" I ani not crazy. I thank God that amid the
heavy misfortunes he has visited upon me, I am
still permitted to enjoy my reason unimpaired.
No, '• hild, I am not insane ; I have never been so."
" I am so glad to hear it ! " exclaimed Bertha.
But the glowing expression with which she re-
ceived this assurance quickly gave place to a sad
look again, as she considered that the invalid
might not be aware of his own infirmity.
" You have some doubts," added he, as he ob-
served the change upon her face. " It is sad for
me to have to defend myself from such a charge.
Yrou know that John told you one falsehood."
" Yes, sir ; and I am satisfied," replied Bertha :
" but it seems very strange to me."
" If you would like the situation, I think I can
convince vou that I am not crazv."
t/ V
" I would like it very much, sir, if you would
please to give me the place."
" Perhaps you will not suit me," added Mr.
Presbv, with a smile.
2O2 Rich and Humble, or
" I will try to do so, sir."
" You are very young."
" I shall be fourteen in a short time." j
" Younger than I thought you were ; it will be
very hard for a young girl like you to be shut up
with an old man like me."
" I shall not mind that, sir."
" And there will be a great many annoyances
and trials to endure."
•
" I will try to be faithful and patient."
" I suppose there have been a dozen applicants
at the door for the place this forenoon, but you
are the first that I have seen. They were all sent
awav, as vou were. I should not have seen vou
v 7 v t/
if I had not happened to overhear the conversa-
tion between you and John in the entry."
"How very strange!" said Bertha, not able to
comprehend this singular state of things.
" You will understand it soon enough. I like
your appearance, young as you are ; and as I may
not see another applicant, I am the more desirous
of engaging you, if you will answer my purpose.
I presume you have been well educated, or you
would not have applied for the place."
Bertha briefly stated the history of her educa-
tion, which seemed to be satisfactory to Mr.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 203
Presby. He then questioned her in regard to her
family, and without telling any more than was
necessary, she informed him in regard to her past
life. He was not inquisitive, and she passed the
examination without informing him what her
father's first name was, or where he had resided.
" Now, Miss Grant, I should like to hear you
read. You may begin with the first article in the
Post," continued Mr. Presby.
He then handed her Kirk White's poems, and
she read a couple of pages.
" You read very well indeed for one so young,
and you appear to understand what you read.
Now I will dictate a letter for you to write, and if
your penmanship is plain and distinct, you will
satisfy me in every respect."
Mr. Presby dictated to Bertha a letter of about
a page in length. Her taste and skill in drawing
had materially improved her writing, and she
wrote a beautiful hand, much larger and plainer
than fashionably educated young ladies usually
write.
" That is admirable ! " exclaimed Mr. Presby, as
she handed him the sheet. " It is as plain as
print. I commend your hand to the book-keepers
down town. I can read that writing."
2O4 Rich and Humble, or
" I am very glad it suits you, sir," said Bertha,
delighted with the success of her examination.
" You have spelled all the words right, and
the letter is neat and well arranged. I suppose
you know something about arithmetic and geogra-
phy?"
"Yes, sir; I am very willing to be examined."
" No, I will not trouble you any farther. If the
place will suit you, it is yours."
" Thank vou, sir."
t/ /
Bertha was quite sure it would suit her, if Mr.
Presby was not insane; and she was pretty well
satisfied now that he was not.
" You have not spoken of the salary, sir," sug-
gested Bertha, who had some doubts on this sub-
ject.
" You may suit yourself about that, Miss
Grant," replied Mr. Presby, with a smile.
" Money is the least of mv cares in this world."
€/ I/
" If you thought four dollars a week was not
too much," said she, after some hesitation.
" I will give you five with pleasure," added Mr.
Presby. " It is of no consequence what I pay, if
you answer my purpose."
" You are very kind and very generous, sir ; and
I will do the best I can to please you."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. ,795
" That is all I require ; and you need not conie
in the morning till ten o'clock."
Ten o'clock! Then she had no home, after all,
and she must find a place to board somewhere in
the vicinity. The five dollars a week seemed to
melt away all at once, for it would take three dol-
lars a week to pay her board, and there was only
two left to pay Fanny's board, and nothing for
clothes and other expenses.
"Where do you live?' asked Mr. Presby. "I
suppose you will want to go home before it is very
dark at night."
" I have no home," answered Bertha, sadly.
" Xo home ; Poor child ! Then your parents
are dead ? -
She did not dare to tell him that her father was
in prison; so she made no reply.
" But you shall have a home here," continued
Mr. Presby, rising and opening a door which led
into a small chamber over the front entrv. " You
t/
shall have this room, and take your meals with
me.'
" Thank you, sir ; I shall never be able to repay
you for your kindness."
" Poor child ! This is the happiest day I have
known for a long time. I thank the Lord for
206 Rich and Humble, or
sending you to me, for we shall be a blessing to
each other."
Bertha could not help crying, the old gentleman
was so tender and so kind. She was sure now
that he could not be crazy ; and she wondered more
than ever at the strange conduct of John, and the
female whose voice she had heard in the entry.
She looked into the chamber, and found it was
nicely furnished, and had a very pleasant aspect.
With the devout old gentleman she thanked God
for conducting her to this new home. She felt
Mr. Presby wrould not turn her out of the house,
even if he should find out that he father was a
prisoner in the Tombs.
" Poor child," said Mr. Presby, which seemed
to be growing into a favorite expression with him.
" You said your name was "
" Bertha Grant, sir."
" Bertha ; I shall call vou Bertha, for vou are
*/ */
only a child now, and I mean to be a father to
you, if you are a good girl, as I am sure you will
be. Poor child ! no home, and no friends."
The old man walked slowly up and down the
room, as he uttered these words, and seemed to
be thinking of something.
" I wish I had a better home than this for you,
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 207
poor child/' said Mr. Presby, as he stopped in
front of the chair in which she was sitting.
" I ain sure I could not ask a better home," re-
plied Bertha.
" Poor child ! It is hearts that make home, not
fine rooms, rich carpets, and costly furniture,"
added Mr. Presby, with a deep sigh, as he shook
his head, and resumed his walk. " Hearts, not
rooms and furniture," he murmured several times.
" I could ask no kinder heart than yours to
warm my home," said Bertha, pitying the old man,
he was so sad and sorrowful.
" Poor child ! I love you already," exclaimed
Mr. Presby, as he paused by her side, bent over
and kissed her on the forehead, while a great tear
dropped from his sunken eye upon her brow.
Bertha thought the old gentleman acted very
strangely. There was a mystery connected with
him which she could not penetrate. The conduct
of John, and the female who had spoken, added
to the mystery, rather than assisted in its solu-
tion. It was evident that they had prevented
several applicants for the situation she had ob-
1 tained from seeing the invalid, and had attempted
to prevent her from doing so. Why they should
act in this manner was unaccountable to her; but
2o8 Rich and Humble, or
she had no desire to pry into matters which did
not concern her.
" This shall be jour home, my child," said Mr.
Presby, pausing again before her chair, and look-
ing tenderly upon her.
" Thank you, sir. You fixed my wages before
you knew that I had no other home. You will
wish to change the sum now."
"No, child, no!' answered Mr. Presby, impa-
tiently. " Now do not say any thing more about
money. It has been the bane of my life. I do
not like the sound of the word. You shall have
five dollars a week, or ten, or any other sum you
desire, only let me have one true friend in the
wide world, and I care not for all the gold in the
universe."
" Pardon me, sir," said Bertha, deeply moved by
the earnestness of the old gentleman; for as he
spoke, the tears coursed down his pale, wrinkled
cheek, and his soul seemed to be filled with an-
guish. " I would not have mentioned the subject
again, if it had not been a matter of great conse-
quence to me. I have a sister in the country,
whose board I must pay, and I only wish to earn
money enough to support her."
" I knew that one so young could not love
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 209
money. It has been a curse to me. God has
punished me by making me rich. I am worth at
least half a million of dollars. I own houses and
lands, stocks, bonds and mortgages; I have the
notes of rich men in my safe, and I have over a
hundred thousand dollars in the banks; but I
would give all I have in the world, every dollar,
for a poor cottage in the country, if I could have
with it the respect and affection of my — of my — of
those whom Heaven sent to bless my declining
years, and smooth my pathway down to the
grave."
The old man dropped into his chair, and wept
as though his heart would break. Bertha tried to
comfort him. She brushed back the long, white
locks from his forehead, and kissed his wrinkled
brow. Gentle-hearted as she was, she could not
help weeping with him.
" Poor child ! " sobbed Mr. Presby. " You must
not love me : if you do, others will hate you."
" I wish I could do something to make you *
happy," replied Bertha.
" No ; they will hate you, if you do."
"Who will hate me?"
The old man looked at her in silence for a mo-
ment.
2io Rich and Humble, or
" I dare not tell you," said he. " I am a great
sufferer. God has sorely afflicted me; but I sup-
pose I deserve it. I try to be patient and resigned
to my lot. It is hard, very hard."
Mr. Presby wiped his eyes, and after a struggle,
calmed his strong emotion.
" Come, Bertha, you shall read to me now," he
added.
"What shall I read?" asked she.
" You shall select something yourself."
She took the Bible, and read the twenty-third
Psalm, and then a portion of the Sermon on the
Mount.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 211
CHAPTER XVI.
IN WHICH BERTHA LISTENS TO THE STORY OF A
FAMILY QUARREL.
MR. PRESBY was comforted by the passages
which Bertha read, and perhaps the sympathy she
extended to the suffering invalid was hardly less
soothing than the words of the Scripture. Though
she had gathered some idea of the nature of her
patron's troubles from the conversation she had
had with him, yet she was still ignorant of his
relations with the other occupants of the house.
She comprehended that his children were unkind
and ungrateful to him, and this seemed so un-
natural and terrible to her, that she pitied the old
gentleman from the depths of her soul.
After she had finished reading the Bible, Mr.
Presby remained silent and thoughtful for a long
time. He seemed to be meditating upon the pas-
sages read, and she did not disturb him; but she
could not help calling to mind the statement of
John that he was insane. His conduct was cer-
tainly very singular; but if his children, those who
should have loved him, who should have comforted
him and humored his weakness, — if they had
turned against him, it would be quite enough to
explain even more strange behavior than he had
yet exhibited.
He rose from his easy chair, and paced the
212 Rich and Humble, or
room, as he had done before ; but he was calm, and
appeared to be more resigned to his misfortunes.
He did not talk to himself, as he had done; and
whether he was insane or not, Bertha had ceased
to be afraid of him, and even felt some confidence
that she could manage him if he should have a
paroxysm.
" Poor child! " said he, at last, as he paused in
his walk. " I am old and thoughtless : you have
no home, and I suppose you have no clothing.
Come, we will go out and buy some for you."
" I have plenty of clothing, sir. My trunk is at
the railroad station," replied Bertha.
" We will go and get it, then. The carriage
comes to take me out to ride about this time every
day. You shall go with me, and wre will get your
trunk."
Mr. Presby took off his dressing gown, and, re-
tiring to his chamber in the rear of the library,
prepared himself for the ride. Bertha put on her
hat and shawl again, and in a few moments both
were ready. Before they left, Mr. Presby gathered
up some account books and papers that were on
his desk, and placed them in a small iron safe in
one corner of the room, which he locked, and put
the key in his pocket.
The carriage was at the door, and Mr. Presby
led the way down stairs. John was in the entry;
but he was very obsequious this time, and bowed
low as he opened the doors for them.
" Keep your eyes wide open, miss, or the old
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 213
man will knock your brains out when he has the
t'
fit," he whispered in Bertha's ear, as she passed
him.
" What do you mean? " asked she.
" O, Mr. Presby is stark, staring mad ! ' he re-
plied, earnestly. " He will take your life before
you have been with him three days.'7
Bertha's old fears assailed her again for a mo-
ment; but she could not believe, if Mr. Presby
were such a dangerous person, that his friends
would permit him to ride about the city without
any attendant. They could certainly have sent
him to the Insane Asylum, for his family seemed
to have no tender regard for him which would
restrain them from such a course.
The carriage was driven to the station, and
Bertha procured her trunk. It was placed in the
little room adjoining the library, and then they
were driven down town. Mr. Presby visited sev-
eral insurance offices, and other places of business,
where he was treated with respect and consider-
ation by all whom he met. Bertha entered several
of the offices with him, and heard him talk about
matters that were beyond her comprehension ; but,
very clearly, no one seemed to be of John's opin-
ion, that Mr. Presby was " stark, staring mad."
On their return, at three o'clock, dinner was
served in the library. The table was prepared by
a colored girl, who waited upon them, and re-
moved the things when the meal was ended.
"Sylvia, is Mr. Presby — Edward — at home?"
214 Rich and Humble, or
said the invalid to the girl, as she was leaving the
room with the dishes.
" Yes, sir."
"Has he dined?"
" Yes, sir."
" Tell him I wish to see him at his earliest con-
venience."
" I will, sir."
Bertha, noticed that Mr. Presby's lips quivered
as he spoke to the servant; and as soon as she
had gone, he seated himself in his chair, and ap-
peared to be much agitated. In half an hour, dur-
ing which time the old gentleman was silent and
thoughtful, Edward Presby entered the room. He
was a man of thirty-five, elegantly dressed, and in
whom an experienced observer would at once have
detected what is called " a man of the world " —
a man who lives for its pleasures alone, ignoring
its cares and responsibilities.
" How do you do to-day, father? " said Edward,
as he entered the room, and cast a searching
glance at Bertha.
" I am as well as usual," replied the old man,
coldly.
" You sent for me, father? '
" I did. John must be discharged."
Mr. Presby spoke these words with firmness,
but his lip quivered, and his frame was slightly
convulsed. It had evidently cost him a great ef-
fort to utter them.
" John — discharged? " repeated Edward Presby,
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 215
" He must be discharged," added the father.
" My wife would never consent to it. What has
he done now? '
Mr. Presby briefly explained the events of the
morning; that John had refused to admit those
who answered his advertisement ; that he had told
Bertha the " old man " was crazy.
" A mere pleasantry, father," replied Edward.
" Probably John didn't know any thing about the
advertisement."
" Perhaps not. Does he believe that I am in-
sane? '
" Of course not," laughed the son.
" Will you discharge him? '
" I couldn't think of such a thing. John is the
most useful person in the house."
" Edward, I am in earnest. John must go, or I
shall."
" Come, father, you are out of humor. Have
you lost any money to-day? '
" I have nothing more to say, Edward," replied
Mr. Presby, trembling with emotion.
" I am sure I haven't," added the son, as he
withdrew from the room.
The invalid went to his desk and wrote a few
lines, which he enclosed in an envelope. Having
written the direction upon it, he handed it to
Bertha, and requested her to ride down to Wall
Street in a stage, and deliver it to the person for
whom it was intended.
" I would not ask you to do such work for me, if
I could trust any one else," said he, sadly.
216 Rich and Humble, or
" I will deliver the note," replied she.
" In a few days we will change our residence.
Bertha/' he added, with a smile. " I hope in our
new home we may be happier than we can be
here."
Bertha knew not what to say, and therefore she
said nothing. The father and the son did not
agree, and the house was divided against itself.
It was a very painful state of things, to see this
difference between those who should cherish and
sustain each other, and Bertha, who had almost
idolized her father, could not understand it. She
put on her hat and shawl, and was leaving the
room, when Mr. Presbv called her back.
tj
"If you stay with me, Bertha, you must under-
stand all these things," said he. " It is a sad
story to tell a young girl like you, but you must
know it all. They will turn you against me, if
you don't."
" No one shall turn me against you, sir. You
have been very kind to me, and I am grateful
for it."
" They will make you believe that I am crazy."
" I will not believe it, sir."
Mr. Presbv seated himself in his easv chair
i/ •.'
again, and began to tell Bertha the history of his
troubles. He had two children, a son and a daugh-
ter. His wife had died ten years before, and soon
after her death a difficulty between the father and
son had occurred.
Edward had never devoted himself to business
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 217
of any kind, but spent all his time in fashionable
dissipation. He had married a gay and extrava-
gant lady, and after the death of his mother, he
had been invited to " keep house " for his father.
But the house was not large enough for the fash-
ionable lady, and both she and Edward had im-
j portuned him to move into a magnificent palace of
] a house. Mr. Presby was simple in his tastes,
and refused to do so. His refusal to comply had
caused the first quarrel.
The daughter had joined with the son in the re-
quest to purchase the palace, and had taken sides
with him in the quarrel. She desired to live in
the style of a princess — to outdo all her neigh-
bors and friends. The demands upon the purse of
Mr. Presby became so extravagant, that even his
immense fortune could not sustain such a press-
ure, and he had been compelled to limit the son
to six thousand dollars a year, and the daughter
to fifteen hundred.
Mr. Presby had been firm in his purpose, and
evei\y month he had paid over to each the sum
allotted. He positively refused to grant another
dollar, though he was continually annoyed by ap-
plications for more, which were often accom-
panied by threats and abusive language.
The quarrel had never been healed ; on the con-
trary, the estrangement became greater every
year. The son and his wife had obtained complete
possession of the house, except the floor which the
old gentleman had reserved for his own use. They
218 Rich and Humble, or
managed its affairs to suit themselves, without
even consulting his wishes or his tastes, and he
soon felt himself a stranger there. They seemed
to look forward with pleasure to the hour which
would end his mortal pilgrimage, and place them
in possession of his wealth.
Mr. Presby wept as he told this sad story, and
Bertha pitied him more than ever. She thought
he had been very liberal with his children, espe-
cially as the son refused to do any business, as his
father wished. She could not see that he had been
to blame, and she wondered at the patience which
he had displayed.
" Now, Bertha, you understand it all," said he;
" and I see that you pity me."
" I do, indeed."
" But they are my children, and I love them
still. O, how it would gladden my heart to hear
them speak gentle words to me ! They hate me ;
they want my property, and would rejoice to have
me die,", groaned he, covering his face with his
hands. " I would give all I have if they would
love me."
" Perhaps they will."
" Their hearts are hardened against me. They
want my money. And I would give it all to them,
if it would make them love me. I would become
a beggar for their sake. But they would spend all
I have in a few years, and it would be folly to in-
dulge them."
" I think John is a very bad man," said Bertha,
recalling what he had said to her in the entry.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 219
" He is not only a spy upon my actions, but he
is employed to thwart me in niy wishes. I can-
not endure him. I have been peaceable and pa-
tient; but I cannot be so any longer. Now you
may go with the note, Bertha."
" Shall I leave it if the gentleman is not in? '
" Yes; he will get it if it is left at his office."
" I will do so, sir."
" Stop a moment, Bertha. Have you any money
to pay your fare? '
" Yes, sir; a little."
"Here is five dollars; you may wish to pur-
chase something. You need not hurry back, for
I shall try to sleep an hour or two, if I am not too
much excited."
Bertha took the money, and thanked her em-
ployer for his kindness. As she descended the
stairs, John wras in his accustomed place; for no
one seemed to pass in or out of the house without
his knowledge.
"Where are you going, miss?' asked he, in
conciliatory tones.
" I am going out," she replied, without stopping.
" So I see; but where are you going? '
" Down town."
"Where?"
" Excuse me, John, but I am in a hurry to do
my errand."
" What is your errand, miss? " persisted he.
" I do not think it is quite proper for me to tell
my employer's business to any one, and you will
excuse me if I do not answer you."
220 Rich and Humble, or
" O, certainly; it's none of my business, of
course, and I did not mean to pry into the affairs
of Mr. Presby."
Bertha placed her hand upon the door; but the
night lock was a peculiar one, and she did not
understand it. She kept working upon it, and
John did not offer to assist her.
"Have you seen Miss Ellen Presby?" asked
John.
" I have not," replied Bertha, still trying to
open the door.
" She wishes to see you. I will call her, if you
please."
" I will see her when I return," said Bertha ;
but John had gone.
Bertha had some ingenuity, and before the man
came back, she succeeded in opening the door.
As she did so, she discovered a couple of night
keys hanging near the door, and in order to save
John the trouble of answering her summons when
she returned, she put one of them in her pocket.
When she had seated herself in the stage, she
took out the note Mr. Presby had given her. She
doubted not it had some reference to the matters
which had transpired during the afternoon. She
turned the envelope, and read with astonishment
the name of the man, who, a few days before, had
turned her out of Woodville. It was directed to
" Samuel Grayle, Esq."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 221
CHAPTER XVII.
IN WHICH BERTHA HEARS GOOD NEWS, AND IS
SORELY PERSECUTED.
BERTHA was surprised and alarmed to find the
name of Mr. Grayle on the note. She hoped Mr.
Presbv had no business relations with such a man,
€/ /
and she was frightened at the thought of seeing
him again. He had insulted her at Woodville, and
he might do so in New York. But her errand
must be done; and she hoped he would not be in
his office.
Mr. Grayle was in his private room with several
gentlemen when she reached her destination. She
gave the note to his clerk, and saw it delivered.
It was a lucky escape, and she retreated from the
place well satisfied with the result. As Mr.
Presbv had told her she need not hurrv back, she
t; •/
decided to call upon Mr. Sherwood again.
" I am very glad to see you again, Miss Grant,"
said the clerk, as she entered the office, " for I
have good news for you."
" Has my father got out of the Tombs? " asked
Bertha, to whom this seemed to be the only good
news that could come to her.
" No ; not quite so good as that," replied the
clerk, shaking his head. " You saw the gentle-
222 Rich and Humble, or
man who was with me when you left the office
this morning? '
" I did."
" Did YOU know him? '
" I did not, though his face seemed strangely
familiar."
" It was your uncle, from Valparaiso."
" Uncle Obed?"
"Yes, I suppose that is his name; at any rate,
he is your father's only brother."
" O, I am so glad!" exclaimed Bertha, "for I
know that he can save my father."
" Your father shall be saved, any way ; but for
the present your uncle cannot do much. He is a
stranger in New York. His business in Val-
paraiso was entirely with English merchants."
" Where is he now? r
" He is stopping at the Astor House. If your
father can only be set at liberty, your uncle will
take care of his pecuniary matters as soon as his
funds arrive from England."
" I will call and see him."
" I think he has gone to Philadelphia, to see a
friend who will furnish him with money to pay off
your father's most pressing debts."
" That is just like uncle Obed," said Bertha.
" He remained with me all the forenoon. He
knows about Brace Brothers, and he says they
have only suspended, and will, eventually, pay all
they owe. If this is the case, Mr. Grant will yet
come out all right. As the matter stands now,
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 223
if your father could raise about fifty thousand
dollars, it would keep him out of trouble till the
affairs of Brace Brothers are settled up. This
your uncle will endeavor to procure."
" Will Mr. Grayle be paid then? " asked Bertha.
" Mr. Grayle has already been paid. He has
taken Woodville, though he says the estate will
not pay him what he has advanced. I suppose it
would not, if sold at auction, and he does not
like the bargain. As soon as he pressed your
father, and threw him into prison, others became
clamorous for their money. I hope your uncle
will be able to raise the sum needed."
" I am sure he will."
" He is very doubtful, for all his friends are in
England, and all his property is there. He has
retired from business, and means to settle in this
vicinity, as soon as he can close up his affairs,
and invest his wealth in this country. He was
verv anxious to see vou."
«/ t/
" I will see him at once if I can."
On her way up town, she called at the Astor
House ; but uncle Obed had gone to Philadelphia,
as the clerk thought he had done.
It was time for her to return to Mr. Presby's,
and she took a stage for this purpose. Her father
and his affairs now engrossed all her attention,
and she even forgot those of her invalid employer.
It was certainly good news that uncle Obed had
arrived. Her father had written to him several
months before, and she had felt that,, if he would
224 Rich and Humble, or
come, all would be well. He could get Mr. Grant
out of prison ; he could recover possession of
Woodville; and he could advance money to pay
her father's debts, and thus save him from his
creditors till the affairs of Brace Brothers were
settled.
But Uncle Obed seemed to be almost powerless,
after all. He had come, but he was a stranger in
the land, with no means and no credit. He had
wealth enough, but it might as well have been at
the bottom of the Red Sea, so far as any present
use was concerned.
Her father was still in prison.
Woodville was still in possession of Mr. Grayle.
Creditors representing fifty thousand dollars were
still readv to harass her father.
t>
Here were three tremendous obstacles in the
path of her father. Bertha felt that she was but
a child, and she could do nothing against such
fearful odds; but still her mission was to save her
father. The coming of uncle Obed would keep
the family from want; but all her father had
seemed to be lost, and nothing but beggary or de-
pendence to be before him. It was doubtful
whether uncle Obed could do anything before it
would be too late to save her father from ruin.
What could she do herself? Alas ! nothing.
Still thinking of these things, she arrived at the
door of Mr. Presby's house. As she went up the
stone steps, the thought came, that perhaps she
might do something; but it was too absurd to be
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 225
cherished, and she dismissed it at once. She was
so absorbed with these reflections that she did not
think of the night key in her pocket, and rang:
the bell'. The summons was promptly answered
by John, who opened the door about a foot, and
placed himself in the aperture.
"Who do you wish to see, miss?' asked he,,
politely.
" I wish to see Mr. Presby — the old gentleman."
" Do you? Well, he isn't at home."
"Not at home?"
" He has just gone out of town, and won't be
back for three days."
" If you will let me in, I will go to my room,"
said Bertha, who, of course, did not believe John's
ridiculous story.
"Eh?" added the man, with a kind of leer, as
though he did not understand her.
" I say I will go to my room, if you please."
" Your room ? Pray, miss, where is your
room? '
" It is the small chamber over the front entry."
" Really, miss, I don't understand YOU. I don't
*/ " t-
see how your room can be in this house."
" Don't you know me, John ? ' asked Bertha,
astonished at this singular reception.
" Don't I know you ? How should I know
you?' replied he, with an innocent look.
" I am the young lady whom Mr. Presby en-
gaged to-day."
" Mr. Presby didn't engage any young lady to
day."
226 Rich and Humble, or
" Why, yes be did, John. You know me very
well. Didn't you talk with me when I went out,
two hours ago, and ask me where I was going? '
" I ? 'Pon my word. I never saw vou before in
t/
my life ! ' protested John, apparently amazed at
this statement.
It was greeted by a loud laugh from the entry
behind him. It was the same voice she had heard
before, and Bertha supposed it must be Miss
Ellen.
" Then, if you will call Mr. Presby, he will as-
sure you I am the person he engaged."
" How can I call him when he is out of town? '
" He is not out of town, John."
" O, now, that does not sound like a lady to
doubt my word; but I will call Mr. Edward
Presby."
" I do not wish to see him."
" Then I can't do anv thing for vou, miss."
t/ o i/ /
" I will go up to my room."
" We don't let strangers into the house," replied
John, decidedly.
" What do you mean, John ? You know me
well enough."
"Never saw you before in my life; and if you
doubt my word, I shall never want to see you
again."
" Send her away, John," said the voice of the
female in the entry.
" Good evening, miss ; if you call next week,
you may see Mr. Presby," said John, with one of
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 227
those wicked leers with which he accompanied his
polite impudence, and closed the door in her face.
Bertha, astounded by this incident, retired from
the door, and moved down the street again. Such
villainy and such trickery were beyond her com-
prehension. She had actually been denied admis-
sion to the house of her employer. But she had
spirit enough not to yield the point. She had
walked down the street but a short distance before
she thought of the night key in her pocket, and
then she determined to return, and to make her
way to Mr. Presby's library, whether John was
willing or not, for it did not occur to her that he
would carry his opposition so far as to prevent her
by force from doing so. It was evident that Mr.
Presby's son and daughter intended to prevent
her from remaining with him. They feared her
influence — that she might comfort and encourage
the invalid, and thus prolong his life; or be an
available witness in a contested will case; or that
she might in some manner prevent them from
controlling the old man's thoughts or actions.
" You must not love me, or they will hate you,"
had been the warning of the father. If they
wished to prevent her from seeing Mr. Presby
again, it would be hard for her to do so.
Bertha felt that the old man was in the hands
of his enemies, though they were his own children,
and higher considerations than her., own comfort
and welfare prompted her not to yield to the con-
spiracy. She could not desert the old gentleman
228 Rich and Humble, or
when he had been so kind to her. Obeying this
generous impulse, she hastened up the steps, and
inserted the night key as quickly as she could.
The door was opened without difficulty, and not
stopping to close it behind her, she hung up the
night key on the nail from which she had taken
it, and opened the inner door, intending to run up
stairs before John should appear to dispute her
passage.
She was partially successful, and had ascended
a few steps before the vigilant man-servant
showed himself. But John, whom Mrs. Presby re-
garded as the most useful person in the house, was
as active as he was keen. No sooner did he dis-
cover that he had, in some mysterious manner,
been circumvented, than he sprang up the stairs,
and catching hold of her dress, pulled her down
to the door again.
"Who is it, John?" called the voice of the
female from an adjoining Iroom.
" It is the girl that tried to get in a few mo-
ments ago."
" An entry thief — isn't she, John ? " said Mr.
Edward Presby, who now appeared in the hall,
followed by his wife and his sister.
" I suppose so, sir," replied the ready John.
" She has been prowling about the house all day.
I have sent her away twice."
" But how did she get in ? ' demanded Mr.
Presby.
t/
" That's more than I know ; but this kind of
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 229
folks always find a way to open a door/' answered
John, with a wicked grin.
"How did you get in?' said Mr. Presby,
sternly.
" Hush, Ned,'7 whispered Miss Ellen, pointing
up stairs.
" No fear of him ; he is fast asleep in the back
chamber," muttered John.
But Mr. Presby acted upon this caution, and
taking Bertha by the arm, led her into the dining
room, in the rear, where the invalid could not
possibly hear what transpired.
"Now, how did you get in?' repeated Mr.
Presby, in the same stern tone he had used before,
as though he had been speaking to a common
thief, whom he hated and despised.
" I came in with the night key," replied Bertha,
appalled at the turn which the affair had taken.
" Where did you get the night key? '
" I took it from the nail when I went out."
" When you went out ! When was that ? "
i/
" I know what she means. She stole the key
when she came to the door with the foolish in-
quiries," observed Miss Ellen.
"Did you miss the keys, John?' asked Mr.
Presbv.
«^
" I did not, sir. I don't believe she got in that
way. I will go and see; " and he left the room.
In a moment he returned, declaring the two
night keys were hanging on the nail, where he
had seen them half a dozen times during the day
230 Rich and Humble, or
" Of course she picked the lock, then," added
Mr. Presby.
" Well, I hope something will be done about it
this time," said Mrs. Presby. " You caught a
woman in the entry once before, and let her go
because she was well dressed."
"That was a mistake of mine; and I will not
make another of the same kind. John, you may
go and get an officer."
" For mercy's sake, Mr. Presby, don't send me to
prison ! " said Bertha, terrified beyond expression.
" That is just what the woman said, in almost
the same words," added Mrs. Presby.
"Don't you know me, sir?' pleaded Bertha.
" I was in the library when you were there this
afternoon."
" No use," replied Mr. Presby, shaking his head.
" That kind of stuff won't go down."
" The other thief said she wanted to see her
sister, who was a servant in the house," said Miss
Ellen.
" It is a plain case, miss, and there is no use
of wasting words in idle stories. I let one entry
thief escape, and I will not permit another to slip
through my fingers."
" I am no thief, sir. I beg you to send up to
your father, and he will assure you I am not a
thief," pleaded Bertha.
" My father is out of town,"
Poor Bertha could say nothing to move her per-
secutors ; and, in despair, she relapsed into silence.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 231
In a few moments John returned with a police-
man. Mr. Presby and his man told their story,
and the officer thought it was a very plain case.
" Come, miss," said he, taking her by the arm
and leading her out into the street.
232 Rich and Humble, or
CHAPTER XVIII.
IN WHICH BERTHA PROVES HER INNOCENCE, AND
MEETS RICHARD IN THE STATION HOUSE.
IT was now quite dark, and in the friendly
shades of night, poor Bertha was spared the shame
of being gazed upon by unthinking people in the
street. The policeman took her by the hand, and
-conducted her to the station, where she was to re-
main till morning, when she would be taken be-
fore a magistrate to be examined on the charge of
" breaking and entering."
She was so terrified by the scene through which
she had just passed, that she had not the courage
to say any thing to the officers in vindication of
her innocence. They looked at her with curiosity
and some of them seemed to regard her as a differ-
ent person from those who were usually brought
to the station.
"Bless my soul!" exclaimed a sergeant, when
he came to look at her. " I have certainly seen
that face before."
" O, Nathan ! ' groaned Bertha, as she recog-
nized in the officer a man who had formerly been
employed as coachman at Woodville.
" Bertha Grant ! ' ejaculated he, holding up
both hands with astonishment. " It can't be pos-
sible ! »
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 233
" I am innocent, Nathan/' sobbed Bertha. " I
have not done any thing to bring me to this place.
I am so glad to find you here."
" Poor girl ! I can't do any thing for you, I am
afraid."
"You will not keep me in this terrible place?
You will not let them carry me before the court.
It would kill my poor father."
" I would not, if I could help it, Bertha," re-
plied Nathan, sadly ; " but we have to keep people
who are arrested on such charges till they are
proved to be innocent."
" I am innocent ! I have not done any thing
wrong."
' But I have no right to let you go — at least
while you stand charged with breaking and enter-
ing. If I dared, I would let you go at once."
" Let me tell you all about it, and then perhaps
you will know what is best to be done."
" I will do every thing I can for you, Bertha.
Y"ou were always kind to me, and I would do any
thing to get you out of trouble."
" I don't want you to do any thing wrong, Na-
than. I would not have you neglect your duty
even to save me from prison."
Bertha then told the sergeant every thing that
had occurred at the house of Mr. Presby during
the day, from the moment she rang the bell in the
forenoon, till she had been taken out of the house
by the policeman.
" Poor girl ! ' sighed the policeman, when she
234 Rich and Humble, or
had finished her simple narrative. " I think we
can get you out of trouble very soon. If Mr.
Presby, the old gentleman, will only say that you
were lawfully in the house, that .you had a right
to be there, we will not keep you a single mo-
ment."
" Mr. Presby would come to me at once, if he
only knew I was here; I know he would/' added
Bertha.
" It is a plain case, and all we want is a word
from him. Now I will go rigL1: down to his house,
and tell him all about it."
" I am afraid thev will not let vou see him."
t/ *-
" I will see him. Don't disturb yourself about
that, Bertha. I shall certainly see him."
The sergeant then spoke to the principal officers
of the station, and Bertha, instead of being put
into a cell with the wretched thieves and drunk-
ards who had already been brought in, was per-
mitted to remain in the office.
At nine o'clock, Nathan had not returned, and
Bertha was sure that he had found some difficulty
in seeing Mr. Presby; but she was sure, too, that
he would do all he could for her, and so she waited
in hope and patience. Occasionally a thief or a
vagabond was brought in, but Bertha did not even
care to look at him. At ten o'clock, while she
was wondering that the sergeant did not come, an
officer led a bov into the room.
ft/
" What have you got there ? ' demanded the
captain.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 235
" A little fellow that I picked up in the next
street. He is so tipsy he can't stand alone, and
had stretched himself on the curb stone, where he
was near having his legs broken by a stage."
" Who is he?"
" Don't know, sir. He is well dressed. I asked
him where his home was, and he said he hadn't
any."
" No, sir," said the boy, rousing from his stupor,
" I haven't any home ; but I belong to the yacht
Whirlwind."
"Merciful heavens!'1 cried Bertha, rushing to
the side of the intoxicated youth.
i
"Do you know him, miss?" asked the captain.
" Yes, sir, I do," stammered Bertha.
"Who is he?"
" He is my brother."
" What ! Is that you, Berty ? " stammered Rich-
ard Grant. " Well, I am glad to see you, Berty.
What are you doing here? '
" O, Richard! " was all that the poor girl could
utter, as she threw herself into a chair, and wept
bitterly.
" Put him to bed," said the captain, in a low
tone.
The officers took the drunken boy out of his
chair, and laid him in one of the bunks of an
adjoining cell. The captain gave Bertha permis-
sion to stay with him, but he was unable to talk
much, and soon dropped asleep. She covered him
up, and seated herself by his side. When she
236 Rich and Humble, or
heard the outer door open again, she hastened out
to see if Nathan had corne.
" Where is she? Poor child! " said Mr. Presby,
as he entered the room.
Bertha hastened to him, her eyes still filled with
the tears called forth by the new grief that had
come upon her.
" O, I am so glad to see you, Mr. Presby ! " ex-
claimed she, as she grasped the old gentleman's
extended hands.
" Poor child ! Poor child ! I told you they
would hate you if you loved me. They sent you
to a prison — did they? O God! They are my
children."
" It's all right, Miss Bertha," said Nathan who
had already told the captain that the girl had
spoken the truth.
" May Heaven bless you, Nathan ! " said Bertha,
taking him by the hand. " You have saved me
from a world of anguish, and I shall be grateful
to you as long as I live."
" Never mind that, Bertha. You were always
good to me, and I am too glad of a chance to
serve you."
" Poor child ! ' added Mr. Presby. " Are you
satisfied now, captain? '
" Entirely ; the girl can go as soon as she
pleases," replied the captain.
" Come, Bertha, let us get away from this place ;
but we will remember your friend the sergeant.
I have a carriage at the door. I will not let you
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 237
go out of my sight again while we remain in the
city. Come, Bertha."
" I can't go now," she replied, glancing at the
cell in which Richard was sleeping off the fumes
of the liquor he had drank.
The captain now kindly came forward, and ex-
plained what had taken place during the absence
of the sergeant. Mr. Presby was full of sympathy
for the poor girl, and at once proposed to take
Richard away with them ; but Nathan promised to
take care of him till morning, and detain him till
Bertha could see him again.
" Now, Bertha, we will be happy," said Mr.
Presby, when they were seated in the carriage. " I
have just purchased a fine house in the country,
and we will go there to-morrow. You shall not
be persecuted any more."
" I do not care for myself," added Bertha.
" Your brother shall go with you. The poor
boy had no home, and I suppose he was sad and
lonely. We will take good care of him, and he will
never do such a thing again."
" I hope not."
" The house I have bought is a beautiful one.
I have purchased all the furniture, horses, boats,
and every thing, just as its late owner left it. I
am sure we shall be very happy there."
" I hope you will be happy."
"I shall be; perhaps if I leave them, it will
do them good. They do not believe that I will go,
for I have threatened to do so, a great many times,
238 Rich and Humble, or
when my heart would not let rne. But the place
is bought this time, and I have given my check
for it. Did you think I never would come to
YOU ? "
•>
" I thought John would not let the officer see
you."
" I was not at home when he came. I was at
Mr. Grayle's office, where the purchase was com-
pleted, and the deed given."
"Mr. Grayle!" exclaimed Bertha, a new light
appearing to her.
"Yes, Mr. Grayle; I bought the place of him.
The estate is known by the name of Woodville.
Quite a pretty name — isn't it ? '
"Woodville!' repeated Bertha. "And you
have bought it? '
" Yes ; you appear to know the place."
" It was my home till a few days ago/' answered
Bertha, sadly.
" Your home ! Good Heaven ! Then you are the
daughter of poor Franklin Grant."
" I am, sir."
"Poor child! I was slightly acquainted with
your father ; but he had a quarrel with Mr. Grayle,
which concerned me, and I haven't seen him for
several years."
" Is Mr. Grayle your friend? " asked she.
" Not exactly my friend. I have had some busi-
ness relations with him; but I have nothing
against your father."
Bertha, in her own simple style, then told him
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 239
what Mr. Grayle had done to her father, and that
he had turned his children out of Woodville. Mr.
Presby was indignant, and declared that he would
never trust him again.
When the carriage reached the house, they were
admitted by John, who was as polite as a French
dancing master. They had no sooner entered the
library than Edward Presby presented himself.
He declared that the arrest of Bertha was a mis-
take. He did not know her, and none of the
family had ever seen her.
t,
" Edward," said the father, very sternly, " it is
useless for you to say any thing. We part to-
morrow; let us part in peace."
"Part, father?" exclaimed Edward.
Mr. Presby briefly informed his son what he had
done, and stated his plans for the future.
" Surely you will not leave us, father," said
Edward, who probably began to realize that he
had gone too far.
" I shall go to-morrow."
The son tried to explain, and said all he could
to alter his purpose; but Mr. Presby remained
firm to the last, and he finally retired in anger,
and with threats on his lips.
Bertha went to her chamber, but she could not
sleep, she was so excited by the events of the
evening. On the morrow she was to return to
Woodville, though not with the family; and she
wns sad at the thought of going without her
father.
240 Rich and Humble, or
Uncle Obed would return from Philadelphia the
next day, and she hoped he would bring some com-
fort for her; for with Richard intoxicated in the
station house, and her father still in the Tombs,
her mission seemed farther than ever from its ac-
complishment.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 241
CHAPTER XIX.
IN WHICH BERTHA FINDS UNCLE OBED, AND RETURNS;
TO WOODVILLE.
MR. PRESBY called Bertha at an early hour on
the following morning, for the carriage had been
engaged for her at seven o'clock. She had slept
but little during the night, for the terrible condi-
tion of her brother haunted her thoughts when
awake, and her dreams when she slept. She was
driven to the station house, where Richard had
slept off the fumes of the intoxicating cup.
He was glad to see her, but he was very much
depressed in spirits, and heartily ashamed of his
conduct. He was more reasonable and penitent
than she had ever seen him before. He told her-
that the yacht had come from Newport the day
before, and that he had been discharged, because
they no longer wanted him. He had taken a room
at a hotel, but he had only two dollars left of the
money he had brought from Woodville, increased
by a few dollars he had earned. He acknowledged
that he had been intoxicated twice while at New--
port, and that when he came on shore in New
York, he felt very sad at the thought of having na
home; and he had drank some wine to cheer him
up, and make him forget that his father was in
prison, and the family scattered.
" Bertha, I never will taste any wine or liquor
242 Rich and Humble, or
again as long as I live," said he, with solemn
earnestness, when he had finished his narrative.
" I hope you never will, Richard. My heart is
nearly broken now," added Bertha, wiping away
her tears ; " but if you will be good and true, I
shall be happy again. O, you don't know how
much I have thought of you ! '
" Come, Berty, don't cry. I have been selfish
and wicked, but I will stand by you now to the
last. I will do any thing you wish."
Bertha was very much comforted by Richard's
promises of amendment, for she felt that he meant
them, and she prayed that he might have the
firmness to keep them. She then told him what
had happened during their separation ; of the sale
of Woodville, and the return of uncle Obed, and
that she was going to their old home with Mr.
Presby.
This conversation took place in the carriage,
and on the sidewalk in front of Mr. Presbv's
«/
house. For some time, Richard could not be per-
suaded to visit his sister's employer; but he at last
consented. The old gentleman did not allude to
the events of the preceding evening, but talked
about his plans in connection with Woodville.
He insisted that Richard should go with them,
and occupy his old room; indeed, he said he
wanted him very much to assist him in finding the
housekeeper, the boatman, and the servants, for
he intended to restore every thing to the condition
in which Mr. Grant had left it.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 243
Richard gladly consented to remain with him,
and assist him in moving his books, papers, and
other articles, which were to be conveyed to
Woodville. His wonted spirits seemed to return
when his mind was occupied, and before break-
fast was over, Mr. Presby and Richard were excel-
lent friends.
The forenoon was occupied in packing up the
books and papers, which were sent off early in
the afternoon, under the care of Richard, who had
instructions to find the old servants, and send
them back to their accustomed places.
At one o'clock, when the Philadelphia train had
arrived, Bertha repaired to the Astor House, to
ascertain if uncle Obed had returned, leaving Mr.
Presbv with his son and daughter. The latter
t/ ~
were astonished and alarmed at the firmness of
their father, and the events of years were re-
hearsed and commented upon. They promised to
let him have his own way in all things if he would
remain and were even willing to discharge John.
They asked him what the world would say ; but he
was silent. They proposed to go with him to
Woodville; but he declined. He had gone too far
to recede. Mr. Presby told them what he had suf-
fered, but he spoke kindly, and hoped they would
visit him in his new home.
Bertha was rejoiced to find that uncle Obed was
in the house, and she was shown to his room.
She had never seen him before they met in the
office of her father, but the picture of him that
244 Rich and Humble, or
hung in the drawing room at Woodville was so
true, that his countenance seemed familiar to her.
" My dear uncle ! " exclaimed she, as she rushed
forward to grasp his extended hand.
" Then this is Bertha/' replied uncle Obed, as
he kissed her.
" I ani so glad to see you ! '
" And I am as glad to see YOU ; for when I
heard what had happened, I was very much
alarmed about YOU."
Of course the conversation immediately turned
to the situation of her father. Bertha told him
what had occurred from the time of her father's
arrest. Uncle Obed was sad and thoughtful. He
was perplexed and disappointed. He felt a strong
desire to do something which he could not accom-
plish.
" Mr. Sherwood told me you had gone to Phila-
delphia to obtain the money which would save
my poor father from ruin," said Bertha.
" I did go, but my friend was not at home, and
will not return for a week. Bertha, I am sorely
tried ; I don't see that I can do any thing for your
father at present. I cannot raise the money."
" I hoped you would be able to save my poor
father."
" I have done every thing I could ; but I am a
stranger here now. Fiftv thousand dollars is an
Cj f
immense sum of money."
" Perhaps I can raise it, uncle Obed," said Ber-
tha, musing.
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 245
" You, child? Of course you cannot."
" I can try."
Uncle Obed laughed at the assurance of Bertha,
and did not bestow a second thought upon the
absurd proposition.
" I must go to Woodville with Mr. Presby this
afternoon," said she, " and I must leave you now,
uncle."
" I am sorry Woodville was sold, for I meant to
buy it myself when my funds arrive. I intended
to have seen Mr. Grayle yesterday. I suppose it
is of no use to regret it, though. When shall
I see you again, Bertha? '
" I shall probably come to the city to-morrow,
with Mr. Presby."
Bertha hastened back to the house of Mr.
Presby, where he was to wait her return.
"Did you see your uncle?'1 asked he.
" Yes, sir."
" You told me he would release your father."
"Yes, sir; but he cannot," replied Bertha,
bursting into tears.
"Poor child! Why not?"
" Mr. Grayle put my father in prison, and keeps
him there."
" I will see Grayle before I go to Woodville,"
said the old gentleman, jumping out of his chair.
" But that would not be enough," added Bertha.
"What more, child?"
" My uncle has been trying to raise a large sum
of money, to satisfy the creditors who persecute
mv father."
246 Rich and Humble, or
" How much money? '•
" Fifty thousand dollars," replied Bertha, draw-
ing a very long breath.
" Fifty thousand ! " exclaimed Mr. Presby.
" My uncle will be responsible for it : he is a
rich man, but all his wealth is in England."
" You shall have the money, my child," said Mr.
Presby, after a few moments' consideration.
" May Heaven bless you as you have blessed
me!" exclaimed Bertha, clasping his hands, and
rapturously kissing his pale forehead;
" I will go down now and see Grayle ; then I
will meet you at the Astor House. It will be late
when we get to Woodville to-night, but your
father shall go with us, Bertha," said the old gen-
tleman, as he put on his hat and took his cane.
" Come, child ; we will lose no time."
" O, sir, I am so happy ! '
" I didn't understand before that Grayle caused
your father to be imprisoned. If I had, I would
have seen him before."
Bertha hastened back to the Astor House, while
Mr. Presby took a carriage and drove to the office
of Grayle.
" O, uncle Obed!" cried Bertha, as she rushed
into his room, out of breath with the exertion of
running up stairs.
"What now, Bertha?"
" I have got the money ! "
" What ! Impossible f "
"I have; Mr. Presby will let you have it, and
father will be set at liberty to-nigbf j "
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 247
Uncle Obed was incredulous, and seemed to be
of John's opinion, that Mr. Presby was crazy. He
absolutely refused to believe the good news, and
the non-appearance of Mr. Presby seemed to
justify his want of faith. It was three hours be-
fore the old gentleman came, and Bertha began to
fear that her enthusiasm had deceived her. But
he came at last, and the two gentlemen were in-
troduced to each other.
Mr. Presby opened the business of the meeting
by saying what a good girl Bertha was; that,
though he had known her only two days, he loved
her as his own child. He then inquired very par-
ticularly into uncle Obed's business affairs, and
having satisfied himself in regard to his financial
soundness, he produced checks for fifty thousand
dollars.
" Business men would call me a fool or a luna-
tic, after what I have done; but if I knew I
should lose every dollar I have advanced, I should
do just as I have done," said Mr. Presby, as he
placed uncle Obed's notes in his pocket-book.
" You shall not lose a penny of it, Mr. Presby,"
said uncle Obed, earnestly. " I am able to pay
these notes three times over."
"I don't doubt it, Mr. Grant. Now, if the
business is finished, we will call in somebody else,"
added Mr. Presby, as he rang the bell.
He whispered something very mysteriously, to
the waiter who answered the summons and then
continued the conversation with uncle Obed.
Rich and Humble, or
>.
I have purchased your brother's estate —
\Voodville; but whenever he wants it again, he
shall have it," said he. " I must be in sight of
Bertha ; and I suppose I can buy a piece of land
and build a cottage upon it."
" Nay, sir, you shall always have a home at
Woodville. I can promise that for my brother,"
Replied uncle Obed.
" O, yes ! " said Bertha. " I should be so happy
to have you at our house ! '
Brace Brothers will certainly pay all they owe.
I fully understand the cause of their suspension.
When your father gets out of this difficulty, he
will be as well off as ever he was," added uncle
Obed.
At this moment the door was thrown open by
the waiter. A joyful cry from Bertha revealed
the nature of Mr. Presby's mysterious proceedings
with the bell rope and the waiter.
"Mv father! Mv father!" exclaimed Bertha,
t *
as she rushed into his arms, and kissed him over
and over again.
" My dear child ! " said Mr. Grant, as he pressed
the overjoyed daughter to his heart, while the
great tears rolled down his thin, pale cheek.
Bertha felt that her mission was accomplished
• — at least her present and most urgent one. Long
and tenderly she caressed her father, while she
told him how kind Mr. Presby had been to her.
" This is all Bertha's work, Franklin," said
\incle Obed. " She raised the money, and pro-
cured vour release."
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 249
" No, father ; it was Mr. Presby."
" For your sake I did it, my child," added Mr.
Presby. " But come ; we are all going to Wood-
ville to-night."
The next train bore the whole party from the
city. On the way all the incidents connected with
the release of Mr. Grant were rehearsed. At first
Grayle would not consent to it; but Mr. Presby
had compelled him to do so by threats which he
had the power to carry out, for the wretch owed
him large sums of money. Mr. Presby had be-
come his bail till the action could be disposed of;
but Grayle acknowledged that the charge of fraud
could not be proved. He declared that the affair
would ruin him, when Mr. Grant was released.
It was dark when the party arrived at Wood-
yille; but the house was lighted up, and they were
greeted by the housekeeper and the old boatman,
whom Richard had summoned back to the man-
sion. Noddy Newman turned half a dozen back
somersets on the lawn when he saw Bertha run-
ning up the walk. Several of the servants were
in their places, and supper was on the table, just
as though no break had occurred in the household
arrangements. Ben was sent after Fanny, and
that evening the family were reunited in the sit-
ting room.
250 Rich and Humble, or
CHAPTER XX.
IN WHICH BERTHA VISITS THE GLEN AGAIN, AND THE
STORY ENDS.
THE next day Mr. Grant and uncle Obed went
to the city to arrange the business of the former,
leaving Mr. Presby at home with the children.
Bertha spent the whole forenoon in showing the
old gentleman about the estate, and leading him to
all the pleasant places in the vicinity.
After dinner, Richard took them over to White-
stone in the Greyhound, and on their return they
visited Van Alstine's Island and the Glen. Even
Dunk's Hollow had heard the glad tidings of the
return of the family to Woodville, and the chil-
dren of the little mission school had gone to the
Glen in the forenoon, and again in the afternoon,
in the hope that Bertha might meet them there.
As the party landed, they were received with
shouts of rejoicing. Gretchy Von Brunt danced
with joy, and Grouty Von Grunt leaped up in the
air as though the ground had been too hot to
stand upon, while the other members of the school
manifested their satisfaction in a manner not less
equivocal, though rather more dignified. Bertha
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 251
kissed all the children, boys and girls; for they all
had clean faces, and wore the new clothes which
their teacher had provided.
The whole troop ran before Bertha as she con-
ducted Mr. Presby up to the Glen, and seated
themselves in their accustomed places in the arbor.
The visitors spent a very pleasant hour with
them, and left, with the promise to come again on
the following day.
" Now, Bertha, you must go on with your
school just as you did before," said Mr. Presby.
" If the children want any clothes or books, or any
thing that costs monev, vou must let me know
•/ / i/
it. And you must let me help you teach the
school."
" Thank you, sir. It is very kind of you to feel
an interest in these poor children," replied Bertha.
" It will make me happy, as it does you. Of
course your school can last only four or five
months? '
" Xo, sir; it is too cold after October to meet
at the Glen."
" Well, Bertha, we must build a nice little
school house, so that we can meet the children in
the winter."
As the boat bore them down to the Woodville
landing, Mr. Presby and Bertha formed many
plans for improving the condition of the poor
children of Dunk's Hollow; but the limit of our
story does not permit us to follow them in the ex-
ecution of those notable schemes. The little
25 2 Rich and Humble, or
school house was built; other children were in-
duced to join the number: all the scholars were
supplied with warm clothing for the winter; and
as the pupils could all read very well, a library
was provided for their use. From the children,
the mission of Bertha and her wealthy co-laborer
extended to the parents, and Dunk's Hollow itself
began to wear a new aspect. Mr. Presby talked
with the men, and many of them changed their
modes of life, and became decent, not to say re-
spectable, persons.
Such was the result of Bertha's mission to the
poor children of Dunk's Hollow.
Mr. Grant made satisfactory arrangements with
his creditors. Brace Brothers, as uncle Obed and
others had anticipated, paid their debts in full;
and the money which Mr. Presby had advanced
was not only refunded, but Woodville was bought
back again, and Mr. Grant was congratulated by
all his friends and neighbors -upon the happy ter-
mination of his troubles.
The only person who seemed to be a permanent
sufferer by the transactions we have described was
Mr. Grayle. His conduct in causing the arrest of
the broker was generally condemned, for he was
actuated by revenge, and a desire to make money
out of the misfortunes of others. As Mr. Sher-
wood had predicted, his course proved to be his
ruin ; for when the whole truth came out at a
meeting of Mr. Grant's creditors, a storm of indig-
nation was raised against him. Losing the re-
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 253
spect and confidence of business men, he failed,
and sought a new home in the West to retrieve his
fallen fortunes.
When Woodville again came into the possession
of Mr. Grant, and his credit was completely re-
stored, a great dinner party was given in honor of
the event. Among those invited were Mr. and
Mrs. Byron, as well as Mr. Gray, and others who
had attended on the memorable occasion when
Master Charley had made a sensation. Strange
as it may seem, Mrs. Byron came; and when she
saw the gentle girl, whom she had insulted and
turned out of her house, honored and respected
by the most distinguished people in the vicinity,
she blushed with shame.
Master Charley Byron, who always had his own
way, insisted upon paying a visit to his former
governess on this occasion ; and of course he came.
Bertha sang " Three Blind Mice ' to him, and
Noddy Newman turned a hundred back somersets
on the lawn for his special benefit; but Charley
was too wise to attempt the feat himself. The
heir of Blue Hill could spell " cat " and " dog/'
but he had made no farther progress in knowl-
edge ; and it is not at all probable that he will ever
be President of the United States.
At other times, there came to Woodville, Mrs.
Lamb, Peter, the head groom of Blue Hill, and his
wife, Nathan, the sergeant of police, Bob Bleeker,
and others who had befriended Bertha in her want
and peril. They were kindly received, and en-
254 Rich and Humble, or
couraged to continue in the faith that those who
assist the needy shall not lose their reward.
Mr. Sherwood was a frequent visitor at Wood-
ville, and his fidelity to his employer was so highly
appreciated, that he soon became the partner of
the broker ; and a few years later, when Mr. Grant
retired, he succeeded to the entire business.
Noddy Newman was as full of " antics " as he
had ever been ; and when Ben, the boatman, re-
turned to his old position at Woodville, the little
savage came with him. But he was under the in-
fluence of Bertha, who still persevered in her ef-
forts to make a civilized man of him.
Mr. Presby proposed to build a cottage for him-
self near the mansion house, but neither Bertha
nor her father would permit him to leave the
family. An addition was made to the house,
which afforded him a suite of rooms, and every
day Bertha wrote his letters and read to him.
The old gentleman increased the allowances of his
son and daughter. They occasionally made him a
visit at his new home, and though thev still Iran-
d> i/
gered for his money, they could not now do other-
wise than treat him with respect, and even with a
show of affection.
Removed from his troubles, and surrounded by
genial and loving friends, Mr. Presby ceased to be
an invalid, and lived ten years after his removal
to Woodville. When he died, Bertha Grant was
made rich; several charitable institutions received
large donations; but the ungrateful son and
The Mission of Bertha Grant. 255
daughter did not obtain the rest; for it was left
in charge of trustees, who were instructed to pay
them only the income of it during their lives, the
principal to be equally divided among their chil-
dren when they reached their majority.
Richard Grant, I am sorry to say, we must leave
as we began with him. Even the bitter experience
at Newport and New York was not enough to re-
form his life and character. He is almost the
only trial of Bertha and her father, though they
hope and pray that he will yet become a good and
true man.
Miss Fanny's pride, after its sudden fall, was
more moderate and reasonable, though there was
still much to hope for, and, better yet, much to
expect from the improvement already made We
are happy to inform her sympathizing young
friends, that, when her next birthday was cele-
brated, all who were invited attended her
party.
Ben, the boatman, almost worships " Miss Ber-
tha." As he grows older, and his rheumatism
becomes more troublesome, he finds in her a con-
stant friend, who chooses never to forget his de-
votion to her in the dark hour of trial and sorrow.
He is still a strict disciplinarian, and, though he
makes Noddy " stand round," he likes the boy, and
feels a deep interest in his future welfare.
Bertha's mission is still unfinished; for as fast
as one good work is accomplished, another pre-
sents itself. The willing heart and ready hand
256 Rich and Humble, or
can never want a field of labor. " Whatsoever our
hands find to do, let us do it with all our might/*
and then we shall realize the happiness which
crowned THE MISSION OF BERTHA GRANT.
THE END.
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