Helen Ford

“A police officer, and a warrant for his arrest.”

“Have you arrested Lewis?”

“No, I only used these in terrorem. Threatening breaks no bones, but sometimes serves a useful purpose, as in this case. Not to keep you in suspense, however, a singular and unexpected chance threw in my way the proofs of your cousin’s complicity in a forged will by which he holds the estate. Acting as your unauthorized agent, yet feeling sure that you would give me a warrant for my proceedings, I brought these to bear upon him, but agreed in your name to stay further proceedings against him if he would quietly yield to you one half of all the property left by your late father. Was I right in making this agreement?”

“Quite so. I have no desire to subject my cousin to any legal penalties. It is enough that he has done me tardy justice. But how shall I thank you, Mr. Sharp, for your friendly and disinterested service?”

“My dear Mr. Ford,” said Mr. Sharp, with effusion, “I feel abundantly repaid in having been the humble agent of restoring to you and my charming young friend, Miss Helen, that property which rightfully belongs to you. Yet, if you desire to acknowledge in any way the obligation, I will suggest that you will probably require a man of business, to undertake the charge of your large property. I believe I am right in asserting that you will not desire so far to interrupt your scientific pursuits, for the petty details of business, to which an inferior capacity can equally well attend. Should you so far honor me with your confidence, as to intrust that business to my charge, to select me, in fact, as your lawyer and man of business, I trust I shall do all that is possible to any one to promote your interests.”

“Mr. Sharp,” said Mr. Ford, “if you will undertake that office, I shall regard it as a fresh kindness on your part. You are well aware that I have little business capacity. The accession of wealth I shall not permit materially to interfere with my scientific pursuits. Indeed, it is partly because it will facilitate them, that I am thankful for this change in my circumstances. Let me add, that I shall desire to compensate your services liberally.”

“Thank you,” said Mr. Sharp, with feeling; “I feel grateful for this mark of your confidence. I will not hesitate even to accept the compensation to which you so delicately allude, and trust I shall be able to show you that I am sensible of the great privilege of being admitted to your friendship.”

“Mr. Sharp,” said Helen, thoughtfully, “can you give me any idea of the value of the property which has come to papa?”

“I cannot, of course, give you any definite statement, my dear Miss Ford. From investigations I have made, however, I can assure you that it will exceed half a million dollars.”

“I am so glad,” exclaimed Helen, looking quite radiant.

“Why, Helen,”, said her father, roused into surprise; “I had no idea you were grown so fond of money!”

“It is because of the good we can do with so much, papa. Indeed, I want to dispose of some at once.”

“Speak, Helen. It must be a large favor that I would not grant you.”

“But this is a hundred and fifty dollars, papa.”

“Half an hour since that would have seemed a large sum to me, Helen; now, I believe I can afford it. Tell me what use you wish to make of it.”

“You know Herbert Coleman, papa, the young artist opposite.”

“A very gentlemanly young man. Well, my dear?”

“He is in great trouble. His money is exhausted, and because he is so young and unknown, he cannot sell his picture. He has had an offer from his uncle to go into a country store to sell groceries, and fears he must abandon art and accept this offer, for want of money to keep him here in New York. He told me last evening that if he could only sell his picture—you have seen it, papa: the ‘Country Farm-house,’ you know—for a hundred and fifty dollars, he could remain in the city six months longer.”

“And you want me to buy the picture, Helen?”

“Yes, papa.”

“Very well, but I have not so much ready money. I do not understand such things. Mr. Sharp will know whether there will be any delay in coming into possession of this property.”

“Very little, sir, since there is no opposition to fear from the opposite party. In the course of a few days–”

“But he has got to decide to-day,” said Helen.

“If he is sure of a sale, however, he will wait for the money,” suggested the lawyer.

“But there is one thing,” said Helen. “I don’t want Herbert to know just at first that it is we who have bought his picture.”

“Leave that to me,” said Mr. Sharp. “I can tell him that I have a commission from a friend to purchase for him, without mentioning names, you know.”

“Yes, that will be just the thing,” said Helen, well satisfied. “Will you go in now?”

“By all means, if you desire it.”

“And I want to go with you,” said Helen. “I want to see how delighted he will look when he finds his picture is bought. Only please don’t tell him just yet that we are rich, papa and I.”

“Be assured, my dear Miss Ford, I will respect your wishes,” said Mr. Sharp, bowing. “Indeed, I honor you for your kind and generous desire to assist your struggling friends.”

“I think, Mr. Sharp,” said Mr. Ford, quietly, “that I will authorize you to pay Mr. Coleman two hundred dollars for his picture, and to order of him another at the same price, the subject to be entirely of his own selection. Do you approve, Helen?”

“Approve, papa? You are the dearest of all papas. You have made me very happy.”

“My dear child,” said her father, affectionately, “I feel that I ought to do what I can to make you happy. You have been my joy and comfort, and latterly my support, in the days of my poverty. Henceforth, it shall be mine to gratify you in all your reasonable desires.”

“Papa, you embolden me to ask another favor.”

“Well, Helen?”

“I will tell you by and by. Now, Mr. Sharp, let us go and see Herbert.”

“Herbert is a fortunate young man,” thought the lawyer. “He seems in favor with both father and daughter. If Helen were a little older, who can tell what would come of it. It will be worth my while to be polite to the young man.”

CHAPTER XLII.

HOW YES BECAME NO

Herbert Coleman had finished his scanty and unsatisfying breakfast, and was seated before his easel, on which was an unfinished picture. He gazed at it mournfully, for the conviction was deepening in his mind that he must bid farewell to art. Chosen mistress of his affections, she had treated him but coldly. She had admitted him to the threshold of her domain. He was permitted to view the glories in which he must not share. A career was opened before him, which it would have been his highest happiness to follow,—in which he could see others making their way successfully; but Necessity, with stern and forbidding countenance, waved him back as with a sword.

Yes, he must bid farewell to art. At the age of twenty-one, he felt that the happiness of his life was over. Henceforth, he must cherish in his heart aspirations which he would never be able to realize. He must descend from the clouds, and plod on in the prosaic way in which his uncle, with more common tastes, had found happiness and prosperity. But the transition from art to groceries was indeed great. Yet there seemed no alternation. If it were possible to find employment for a part of the day, sufficient to defray expenses reduced to the lowest amount compatible with health, that would be preferable. But this was uncertain, and, meanwhile, his purse was almost empty.

“I might as well accept my uncle’s offer, at once,” he said, to himself, despondently. “Nothing is likely to turn up in twenty-four hours to affect my decision. Come, I will write the letter now, and not mail it till to-morrow.”

Feeling that his mind would be relieved by taking a decisive step, he opened his desk, and, taking out a sheet of note-paper, had got as far as “Dear Uncle,” when there was a little tap at his door. He rose, and, opening it, discovered Helen and Mr. Sharp.

“Good morning, Helen,” he said, cheered, he knew not why, by her expression; “I am glad to see you.”

“Herbert, you have heard me speak of Mr. Sharp, papa’s friend. He desires to make your acquaintance.”

“I am very glad to meet you, Mr. Sharp,” said the young artist, looking a little curiously at the perpetual white hat, whose general appearance age had, by no means, improved.

“Thank you, Mr. Herbert,” said the lawyer, nodding pleasantly. “Excuse my familiar use of your name, but Miss Helen has not mentioned any other.”

“Mr. Coleman, excuse me,” said Helen, blushing a little. “How stupid I am!”

“By no means, my dear young lady. But, Mr. Coleman, Miss Helen has told me that you were an artist, and her commendations of one of your pictures have excited my interest; and I have come to ask, as a favor, that you will allow me to look at it.”

“Certainly, sir. I am afraid, however, that you will find Miss Helen’s friendship has dulled her critical powers. This is probably the painting to which you refer.”