Alger Horatio Jr.
A Boy's Fortune

CHAPTER XIX.
Brighter Prospects

"You must know, my dear," said Miss Wilmot, "that I am a rich woman, and own considerable more than my share of worldly goods. Among other items of property, I own a French flat house on West Twenty-fifth street. It isn't one of the costly flats, but is intended for people with moderate incomes. I learned yesterday that one of the flats was just vacated. The family occupying it is about to move to the West, and desired me, as a matter of convenience to them, to purchase their furniture, and let it furnished. I intended to decline, but now I shall accept, having found a tenant that suits me."

"Who is it?" asked Rose, not quite understanding her own connection with the matter.

"Her name is Rose Beaufort," said Miss Wilmot, smiling.

"But, Miss Wilmot, I am afraid it will be beyond my means. What rent shall you ask?"

"I don't think thirty dollars a month will be too much, considering that there are five well-furnished rooms. There is even a piano."

"Thirty dollars a month!" exclaimed Rose, in dismay. "Why, that will be more than all of us together can earn. Mrs. Flanagan only asks us two dollars a week, and that we've hardly been able to meet."

"I think that can be made easy for you," said the spinster. "I shall let you pay in work."

"But I couldn't do enough to pay the rent alone."

"Not at making vests at thirty-five cents apiece, I admit. My work will be better paid for. I shall want some writing done, account-books straightened, and – by the way, do you play on the piano?"

"Oh, yes, madam."

"Well?"

"I believe I have a taste for it."

"Do you consider yourself competent to teach the piano?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Why, then, did you not seek pupils, instead of trying to make a living by sewing?"

"So I did, but I had no one to recommend me, and I could not afford to advertise."

"Do you also play, my dear?" asked Miss Wilmot, turning to Adeline.

"But very little," answered the young girl, humbly.

"Addie draws and paints," said Rose. "I have no talent for either."

"Why, that is well. I may be able to obtain pupils for her, too. However, we can wait and see."

"Miss Wilmot," said Rose, gratefully, "you came to us like a good angel. I was almost despairing when I met you. Now, I am full of courage."

"Never despair!" said Miss Wilmot, kindly. "The sun is often behind the clouds. But I must be going. You will hear from me in a day or two."

The good spinster rose as she spoke, and going out of the humble room, descended the dirty staircase, leaving behind her joy where she had found sorrow.

"It seems almost too good to be true, Rose," said Addie.

"So it does, Addie."

"A nice furnished flat and a piano! I shall not believe it until I see it."

"We can rely upon whatever Miss Wilmot promises. Has she not paid our rent, and given us ten dollars besides?"

"How glad Harry will be when he hears it!"

"Yes, poor boy. It hasn't been a very pleasant home for him. Do you know, Addie, I feel inclined to be extravagant?"

"In what way, Rose?"

"I am going to order a nice dinner from a restaurant – roast turkey and vegetables; and I will make some coffee, and we will have everything ready by the time Harry arrives."

"But it will cost a great deal, Rose," said Adeline, in alarm.

"Never mind, for once. This ought to be a Thanksgiving Day for us. Let us celebrate it as such. Besides," added Rose, the frugal instinct coming in, "if I order two plates it will be enough for three of us. I know of a restaurant where we can get all I want for, say, seventy-five cents. We won't mind about money to-night."

"It will seem good to have a nice dinner once more," said Adeline, thoughtfully. "It is a long time since we had anything but the plainest food."

Rose postponed her feast until six o'clock, the hour when Harry usually got home. There was a restaurant near by, where she gave the order, directing it to be sent in at ten minutes to six.

Mrs. Flanagan was considerably surprised when a colored waiter made his appearance at her door with a large covered dish.

"Who is this for? Haven't you made a mistake?" she asked.

"No, ma'am. It's for a young lady – Miss Beaufort. Doesn't she live here?"

"Yes. What have you got there?" asked the landlady, curiously.

"Roast turkey."

"Bless my soul!" thought Mrs. Flanagan. "She must have come into a fortune. It's all right!" and she directed the waiter to the room of the Beauforts.

When Harry arrived the little table was set out with its usual neatness, and on it there was a display such as made him start back with surprise.

"Where did all this come from?" he asked, bewildered.

"Explanations postponed till after supper," said Rose. "Sit down and we will begin."

"All right; I've no objection," said Harry. "Yes, Rose, you may give me some of the dressing. I say, ain't it good, though? I wish we could live like this every day."

A great fuss to make over a very ordinary dinner, some of my young readers may think; but let them put themselves in the place of this family, and judge whether they would not hail with joy such a meal after a long course of the most frugal fare.

They were in the midst of their enjoyment when a knock was heard at the door – a subdued knock, not like the authoritative knock of their landlady. So there was general surprise when Mrs. Flanagan opened the door. The fact was she could not repress the impulse to gratify her curiosity, which had been excited by the remarkably lavish dinner of her tenants.

"So I've caught you at dinner," she remarked, apologetically. "You must excuse me; it didn't occur to me that I might be intruding."

"It's of no consequence, Mrs. Flanagan," said Rose, not sorry, perhaps, that her old enemy should witness such an indication of prosperity. "I would invite you to dinner, but I am afraid there is no more of the turkey left."

"Roast turkey, upon my word! Well, here's luxury!" said Mrs. Flanagan. "I've had my supper, so I could not accept if you did invite me."

"We don't have turkey every day, Mrs. Flanagan," said Adeline. "We thought we would have it to-day by way of variety."

"They must have come into some money," thought Mrs. Flanagan. "Perhaps that old lady was their aunt."

"I'm sure I'm glad you're doin' so well," she said. "I hope you'll stay with me, in spite of all that's past and gone. You see I am that worried sometimes to get money to pay my rent that I may speak kind of cross like, but I don't mean anything – as is well known to you."

"Didn't you mean anything this morning when you were going to put us out of the house because I could not pay the whole of the rent?" asked Rose.

"I didn't mean it. They were only hasty words," said the landlady, stoutly. "I hope you'll stay with me, for it wouldn't look natural to see anybody else goin' in and comin' out of these rooms."

"I cannot tell yet what we may do," said Rose. "I am glad you didn't mean what you said this morning," she added, quietly, "for it made us feel very sober. I thought you meant to put us into the street."

"I'm sure I'm very sorry. I was cross, and I didn't know what I said. Well, I must be goin' down and gettin' Mike's supper, for he always comes home late."

"It's the way of the world, Rose," said Adeline, as the landlady disappeared.

"What does it all mean?" asked Harry, puzzled. "What has made that old cat so good-natured all at once?"

"Roast turkey," answered Rose, dryly. "She thinks we are prospering, and will be good tenants."

"You are going to stay, ain't you?"

Then the new prospects of the family were explained to Harry, who was much exhilarated by the account.

"Can't I give lessons in something?" he asked.

"You might give lessons in whistling," said Addie, who didn't enjoy her brother's performance in that line; "but I hope you won't receive pupils at home."

CHAPTER XX.
The New Home

Two days later Rose Beaufort received another call from Miss Jane Wilmot.

"My dear," said the spinster, "your new rooms are ready for you, and you can move in at once."

"Our rent is paid here till Saturday," suggested Rose.

"Give your landlady the benefit of the balance of the week. Is this furniture all yours?"

"Such as it is."

"You won't want it. Any articles that you do not value you had better send to an auction store to sell. The flat is already well furnished."

"A tenant on the floor below has offered to buy the furniture," said Rose.

"Does he make you a fair offer?"

"He offers thirty-five dollars."

"A low price, but it will save you trouble to accept it. When that matter is arranged I will send my carriage, and take you and your sister right over to your new home."

Without dwelling upon details, it is sufficient to say that before sunset the two sisters found themselves installed in a pretty and cosey home in a much better part of the city. There was a parlor, fronting on the street, a kitchen, and there were three sleeping-rooms, so that each of the little family could have one. The parlor contained a piano, a bookcase, well filled – this had not belonged to the recent tenants, but was supplied, without the knowledge of Rose, by Miss Wilmot.

Adeline uttered a cry of delight as she went from room to room.

"It is delightful!" she said.

"Here is an easy-chair for you," said Miss Wilmot. "It will be more comfortable than a rocking-chair, even."

This, too, had been added by the thoughtful spinster.

"Now open the piano and let me hear you play," said Miss Wilmot.

While Rose was playing, her benevolent friend nodded approvingly more than once.

"You'll do," she said. "I confess I had some doubts about your qualifications as a teacher, but I can see that you are a brilliant performer."

"If I can obtain pupils, I hope to suit," said Rose, modestly.

"I have some in view. An acquaintance of mine, Mrs. Tilton, of West Forty-second street, is in want of a music-teacher for her two girls. I will send you there, with a note, to-morrow. But first I must give you a hint. How much were you intending to charge for a lesson?"

"I had not thought," said Rose, hesitating. "How would fifty cents do?"

"Fifty cents!" repeated Miss Wilmot, with a rising inflection. "If you undervalue yourself to that extent, no one will think you know how to teach. You must charge two dollars per lesson."

"But will anybody pay me so much?" asked Rose, amazed. "To one who has only been earning thirty-five cents a day at vest-making, fifty cents an hour seems very large pay."

"My dear child, be guided by me. I know the world, and the world will set very much the same value upon you that you set on yourself. Ask Mrs. Tilton two dollars an hour."

"But if she objects to pay it?"

"Say that you are sorry that you cannot make any arrangements."

"I am afraid I can't keep a straight face when I ask such a price, Miss Wilmot."

"Oh, yes, you will! Don't feel nervous. If you lose the pupils, I will see that you don't suffer by it. By the way, put on your best dress, for it is desirable that you make a favorable first impression."

"I will follow your advice, Miss Wilmot," said Rose.

"You can't do better."

The next day Rose rang the bell at the door of a fine brown-stone house on West Forty-second street.

"Is Mrs. Tilton at home?" she asked.

"Yes, miss. Who shall I say wishes to see her?"

"The music-teacher."

Rose was shown into the drawing-room, and presently Mrs. Tilton entered. She was a tall, blonde lady of fashionable appearance, thoroughly worldly, and influenced by externals to a large extent.

"I believe Miss Wilmot has written you in reference to the subject of my call," said Rose.

"Yes, Miss Beaufort. You are a music-teacher?"

Rose bowed.

"My two little girls have made a beginning, but have only taken two quarters each. I wish them to have every advantage."

Rose bowed again.

"Of course, any one recommended by Miss Wilmot can hardly fail to be competent. May I ask, Miss Beaufort, where you live?"

"At the Wilmot Flats, in West Twenty-fifth street."

"Then you are a tenant of Miss Wilmot?"

"Yes, madam. My brother and sister and myself live together."

"Of course you have a piano at home?"

"Yes, madam," answered Rose, glad to answer the question in the affirmative.

"I asked because it might at times be more convenient – when we were preparing for company, for instance – to send your pupils to you."

"Just as may suit you, madam."

"Now, as to your terms, Miss Beaufort?"

"I charge two dollars per lesson," answered Rose, as boldly as she could.

"Isn't that high?" asked Mrs. Tilton. "Most lady teachers do not charge as much."

"I am quite aware of that," said Rose.

"I think some charge only a dollar per lesson."

"I presume you are right," said Rose; but, obedient to Miss Wilmot's suggestions, she didn't offer to reduce her own price. "I hope to make my services worth the amount I ask."

"Then you won't accept a less price?"

"I should prefer not to do so."

Mrs. Tilton was not a generous woman. She was disposed to haggle about prices, and had Rose applied to her for work as a seamstress she would have driven a hard bargain with her, but, as the friend and protégé of Miss Jane Wilmot, a lady of the highest social consideration, she did not venture to follow her own economical inclinations. In fact, Mrs. Tilton was not of an old family. Her husband had recently become rich, and though she aspired to be fashionable, there were circles to which she could not obtain admission. She plumed herself on her acquaintance with Miss Wilmot, and would not, on any account, have had Rose report to that lady that she had been unwilling to pay her price. Two dollars an hour seemed high, but she knew very well that she must buy social recognition, and that she valued above money.

"Very well," she said, after a pause; "I will pay your price. Can you give me Tuesday and Friday afternoons from three to five?"

"Yes, madam."

"Then we will commence next Tuesday, if you please. By the way, my neighbor, Mrs. Green, also desires to secure instruction for her daughter, and I promised to ask you to call."

"I will do so now if the lady is likely to be in," said Rose, gladly.

"I think you will find her in, now. You may hand her my card."

Mrs. Green lived but three doors away. She was at home, and engaged her, without any demur as to price, to give her daughter two hours a week, Monday and Thursday afternoons being selected.

As Rose walked home she could hardly credit her good fortune. Six lessons a week at two dollars apiece would amount to twelve dollars, and leave her plenty of time to herself. Twelve dollars! and till now her weekly income, laboring all day, had been less than three dollars.

"Addie," she said, after recounting her success to her sister, "do you know I feel quite like a young lady of fortune? I am almost afraid that it is all a dream, and that I shall wake up some day and find myself back again at Mrs. Flanagan's."

"Let us enjoy it as long as it lasts, Rose," said Adeline. "I wish I could help. I don't like to have the whole family leaning on you."

Adeline had her wish. Three days later Miss Wilmot came in with two little girls.

"They want to take lessons in drawing," she said. "They have a taste, but their father is a mechanic, and they have been unable to gratify it. Now, I have been thinking that I will let you pay the rent by instructing them, and leave your sister her whole time to teach music."

"I should like nothing better," said Adeline, brightening up.

"Then they will begin at once."

Adeline was fond of children, and found instruction in her favorite accomplishment no task, but a positive pleasure.

"I shall not be a burden upon you, Rose, any longer," she said, cheerfully.

"I should think not. If you pay the rent, it will be no light help. I shall insist on contributing my share, and will pay you fifteen dollars a month to make matters even."

Adeline protested, but Rose was firm. Her invalid sister's spirits were raised, and life was no longer monotonous, now that she felt herself of some use in the world.

"Do you know, Rose," she said, "I don't think I should be happier if our share of grandfather's money had come to us, as we once anticipated."

CHAPTER XXI.
The Collapse of an Elderly Dude

The remarkable change that had taken place in the fortunes of Rose Beaufort interfered seriously with the plans of a person who has thus far only been incidentally mentioned – the superintendent of the work department of Nicholas Walton's large clothing store.

Hugh Parkinson was a man no longer young. If not forty, he looked that age. Moreover, his natural attractions, which were very scanty, had not been increased by the passage of time. His hair, which was of a reddish tinge, was carefully combed up from the side to cover the rather extensive vacancy for which time and irregular hours were responsible; but to look young was a problem which he had not been able to compass. He did what he could, in the way of dress, to make up for the ravages of time. He always got his clothes made by a fashionable Broadway tailor, and in the street he looked like an elderly "dude," and thus far more ridiculous than the younger specimens of this class.

Perhaps it is well for our self-conceit that we do not see ourselves as others see us. Hugh Parkinson, when he surveyed himself in the mirror, decided that he was handsome and stylish-looking. He felt that it was time he married. His salary was a liberal one – fifty dollars per week – and he had a snug sum in various savings banks, representing the savings of the last ten years.

"I'm a good catch!" he said to himself, complacently; "I've a right to expect considerable in a wife. Egad! I must be getting married while I am still a young man."

He had been a young man for a good many years, and so entitled to call himself such.

Hugh Parkinson was fastidious, however, and he had never met the one he wanted to marry till he saw Rose Beaufort. Rose was about half his age, and her fresh beauty touched the heart – such as he had – of the old young man.

"She has no fortune, but what does that matter?" he said to himself, magnanimously. "I have enough for both. When she goes with me to the theatre she will excite the admiration of all, and all the young men in society will envy me. Egad! I must marry her."

Rose, however, had as yet shown no signs of admiring Mr. Parkinson. Indeed, the superintendent had good reason to doubt whether she even esteemed him. He saw, however, that she was poor. Marriage with him would bring her comfort, and even a moderate degree of luxury; upon this he depended for a favorable issue to his suit. As to her being poor, that was evident enough. To be sure, she was well dressed, but no one who is in good circumstances takes vests to make at thirty-five cents apiece. Besides, he knew where she lived, for the vest-makers were obliged to leave their addresses with their names; and he had passed through Bleecker street, and seen for himself the shabby tenement-house in which Rose lived.

"I wish she might become poorer still," said Mr. Parkinson to himself; "then I would have a chance to step in as her good angel and relieve her from suffering. She couldn't help being drawn to me."

When Rose called and desired pay for the two vests which she had completed, Mr. Parkinson was pleased; it showed that she was becoming harder pressed by poverty.

"Daniells," he said to the examining clerk, "when Miss Beaufort calls with her package of vests I want you to object to the quality of her work."

"But, Mr. Parkinson, her work is always well done," objected Daniells.

"Oh, well, you can always find faults. Just say that she must see me before you feel authorized to pay her."

"What's your game, Mr. Parkinson?" asked Daniells.

Mr. Parkinson winked significantly.

"The fact is, Daniells," he said, "I want an opportunity to ingratiate myself with the fair Rose. I will take her part, pay her the money as a favor, and – you comprehend?"

"Yes, I see. The fact is, Rose is pretty, and if I were not a married man I would try to obtain a smile from her myself."

"Just do as I tell you, there's a good fellow, and you won't lose by it."

When Rose had obtained by good fortune the powerful friendship of the rich Miss Wilmot, she, of course, decided to give up vest-making. She had some time left, but she felt that it would be necessary for her to keep up her practice at home, if she aspired to become a successful piano-teacher. However, she would finish the vests she had in hand, and let those be the last.

When the vests were finished she took them round to Mr. Walton's establishment.

The vigilant Daniells did not fail to note her appearance, and prepared to serve the interests of his superior in the way which had been arranged between them.

"So you've finished the vests?" he said, carelessly. "Let me look at them."

Rose regarded this as a mere formality, knowing that they had been well made, and never before having had her work objected to.

What was her surprise, therefore, when Daniells went over them one by one, frowning and shaking his head, disapprovingly.

"Really," he said, "these vests are hardly satisfactory."

"What is amiss with them?" asked Rose, in genuine surprise.

"I can't go into particulars," said Daniells, who would have found it hard to do so, by the way; "I can only say that they are not as well made as we expect."

"They are as well made as usual," said Rose, flushing indignantly. "I cannot understand why you object to them, when all the work I've done before has passed without objection."

"All I can say, Miss Beaufort, is that I do not feel authorized to pay you for them. Mr. Parkinson, however, is my superior. You can refer the matter to him."

"I should like to do so, sir," said Rose, with cold dignity.

"I will accompany you."

The two passed on to the superintendent's desk, and Daniells explained the matter to his superior.

"I will look over the work myself," said Parkinson. "You may go back, Mr. Daniells. I will settle the matter."

Rose stood quiet, while the superintendent examined the vests.

"Really, Miss Beaufort," said Hugh, with his fascinating smile, "I think Mr. Daniells has done you injustice. To my eye, the vests are very neatly made."

"Thank you, sir," said Rose, gratefully. "I am sure they are as well made as any I have brought here."

"The fact is," said Parkinson, confidentially, "Daniells is rather fussy – I might say cranky – I have had more than once to reverse his decision. You shall certainly be paid promptly, as usual."

"Thank you, sir."

Rose had never admired the superintendent, but he seemed to her now a just and agreeable man. The money was not now of so much importance to her, but she strongly objected to being unjustly treated, and being deprived of the money which she had fairly earned.

Mr. Parkinson himself paid over to Rose the money due for the six vests.

"Miss Beaufort," he said, "I hope you won't think we men of business are all hard and disposed to take advantage of the poor. Now, in your case, I assure you that I feel very kindly toward you."

"Thank you, sir," said Rose, considerably surprised.

Mr. Parkinson's vanity led him to think that she was regarding him with a look of interest, but he misinterpreted her. She looked upon him as old enough to be her father, and not a suspicion had ever entered her mind that he thought of her as a possible wife.

"If you will permit me," said the superintendent, "I am about to go out to lunch, and will communicate to you a plan I have for your advantage. It will be better not to take any new work now."

"I did not intend to," said Rose.

Mr. Parkinson looked a little surprised.

They passed through the store together, and out into Broadway. Rose waited for Mr. Parkinson to say what he appeared to have in his mind.

"I think, Miss Beaufort," he said, as they emerged into the street, "you could do better than make vests at thirty-five cents each."

"I think so, too," answered Rose. "I wonder what he means?" she thought.

"Such a beautiful girl as you are – "

"Sir!" exclaimed Rose, haughtily.

"No offense, my dear. Quite the contrary, I assure you. I have had my eye upon you for some time, and I admire you exceedingly. You are poor, but I shall overlook that. My dear girl, I am very well off, as you may suppose, and I offer to make you Mrs. Parkinson."

"Good-evening, sir," said Rose, coldly. "I don't wish to continue the conversation."

"Don't be foolish, my dear girl. It is a fine chance for a poor vest-maker to marry a man in my position."

Rose did not deign to answer, but tried to escape. He attempted to seize her by the arm, when his hat was violently knocked over his eyes, and he came near measuring his length on the sidewalk.