CHAPTER XXX
THE PROMISE OF THRIFT
"Monty, you are breaking my heart," was the first and only appeal Mrs.Gray ever made to him. It was two days before the twenty-third and itdid not come until after the "second-hand store" men had driven awayfrom her door with the bulk of his clothing in their wagon. She andPeggy had seen little of Brewster, and his nervous restlessness alarmedthem. His return was the talk of the town. Men tried to shun him, buthe persistently wasted some portion of his fortune on his unwillingsubjects. When he gave $5,000 in cash to a Home for Newsboys, even hisfriends jumped to the conclusion that he was mad. It was his only giftto charity and he excused his motive in giving at this time byrecalling Sedgwick's injunction to "give sparingly to charity."Everything was gone from his thoughts but the overpowering eagerness toget rid of a few troublesome thousands. He felt like an outcast, apariah, a hated object that infected every one with whom he came incontact. Sleep was almost impossible, eating was a farce; he gaveelaborate suppers which he did not touch. Already his best friends werediscussing the advisability of putting him in a sanitarium where hismind might be preserved. His case was looked upon as peculiar in thehistory of mankind; no writer could find a parallel, no one imagine acomparison.
Mrs. Gray met him in the hallway of her home as he was nervouslypocketing the $60 he had received in payment for his clothes. Her facewas like that of a ghost. He tried to answer her reproof, but the wordswould not come, and he fled to his room, locking the door after him. Hewas at work there on the transaction that was to record the totaldisappearance of Edwin Brewster's million--his final report toSwearengen Jones, executor of James Sedgwick's will. On the floor werebundles of packages, carefully wrapped and tied, and on the table wasthe long sheet of white paper on which the report was being drawn. Thepackage contained receipts--thousands upon thousands of them--for thedollars he had spent in less than a year. They were there for theinspection of Swearengen Jones, faithfully and honorably kept--as ifthe old westerner would go over in detail the countless documents.
He had the accounts balanced up to the hour. On the long sheet lay therecord of his ruthlessness, the epitaph of a million. In his pocket wasexactly $79.08. This was to last him for less than forty-eight hoursand--then it would go to join the rest. It was his plan to visit Grant& Ripley on the afternoon of the twenty-second and to read the reportto them, in anticipation of the meeting with Jones on the day following.
Just before noon, after his encounter with Mrs. Gray, he came downstairs and boldly, for the first time in days, sought out Peggy. Therewas the old smile in his eye and the old heartiness in his voice whenhe came upon her in the library. She was not reading. Books, pleasuresand all the joys of life had fled from her mind and she thought only ofthe disaster that was coming to the boy she had always loved. His heartsmote him as he looked into the deep, somber, frightened eyes, runningover with love and fear for him.
"Peggy, do you think I'm worth anything more from your mother? Do youthink she will ask me to live here any longer?" he asked, steadily,taking her hand in his. Hers was cold, his as hot as fire. "You knowwhat you said away off yonder somewhere, that she'd let me live here ifI deserved it. I am a pauper, Peggy, and I'm afraid I'll--I may have toget down to drudgery again. Will she turn me out? You know I must havesomewhere to live. Shall it be the poorhouse? Do you remember sayingone day that I'd end in the poorhouse?"
She was looking into his eyes, dreading what might be seen in them. Butthere was no gleam of insanity there, there was no fever; instead therewas the quiet smile of the man who is satisfied with himself and theworld. His voice bore traces of emotion, but it was the voice of onewho has perfect control of his wits.
"Is it all--gone, Monty?" she asked, almost in a whisper.
"Here is the residue of my estate," he said, opening his purse withsteady fingers. "I'm back to where I left off a year ago. The millionis gone and my wings are clipped." Her face was white, her heart was inthe clutch of ice. How could he be so calm about it, when for him shewas suffering such agony? Twice she started to speak, but her voicefailed her. She turned slowly and walked to the window, keeping herback to the man who smiled so sadly and yet so heartlessly.
"I didn't want the million, Peggy," he went on. "You think as the restdo, I know, that I was a fool to act as I did. It would be rank idiocyon my part to blame you any more than the others for thinking as youdo. Appearances are against me, the proof is overwhelming. A year ago Iwas called a man, to-day they are stripping me of every claim to thatdistinction. The world says I am a fool, a dolt, almost a criminal--butno one believes I am a man. Peggy, will you feel better toward me if Itell you that I am going to begin life all over again? It will be a newMonty Brewster that starts out again in a few days, or, if you will, itshall be the old one--the Monty you once knew."
"The old Monty?" she murmured softly, dreamily. "It would be good tosee him--so much better than to see the Monty of the last year."
"And, in spite of all I have done, Peggy, you will stand by me? Youwon't desert me like the rest? You'll be the same Peggy of the otherdays?" he cried, his calmness breaking down.
"How can you ask? Why should you doubt me?"
For a moment they stood silent, each looking into the heart of theother, each seeing the beginning of a new day.
"Child," his voice trembled dangerously, "I--I wonder if you careenough for me to--to--" but he could only look the question.
"To start all over again with you?" she whispered.
"Yes--to trust yourself to the prodigal who has returned. Without you,child, all the rest would be as the husks. Peggy, I want you--you! YouDO love me--I can see it in your eyes, I can feel it in your presence."
"How long you have been in realizing it," she said pensively as shestretched out her arms to him. For many minutes he held her close,finding a beautiful peace in the world again.
"How long have you really cared?" he asked in a whisper.
"Always, Monty; all my life."
"And I, too, child, all my life. I know it now; I've known it formonths. Oh, what a fool I was to have wasted all this love of yours andall this love of mine. But I'll not be a profligate in love, Peggy.I'll not squander an atom of it, dear, not as long as I live."
"And we will build a greater love, Monty, as we build the new lifetogether. We never can be poor while we have love as a treasure."
"You won't mind being poor with me?" he asked.
"I can't be poor with you," she said simply.
"And I might have let all this escape me," he cried fervently. "Listen,Peggy--we will start together, you as my wife and my fortune. You shallbe all that is left to me of the past. Will you marry me the day afterto-morrow? Don't say no, dearest. I want to begin on that day. At sevenin the morning, dear? Don't you see how good the start will be?"
And he pleaded so ardently and so earnestly that he won his point eventhough it grew out of a whim that she could not then understand. Shewas not to learn until afterward his object in having the marriage takeplace on the morning of September 23d, two hours before the time setfor the turning over of the Sedgwick millions. If all went well theywould be Brewster's millions before twelve o'clock, and Peggy's life ofpoverty would cover no more than three hours of time. She believed himworth a lifetime of poverty. So they would start the new life with butone possession--love.
Peggy rebelled against his desire to spend the seventy dollars thatstill remained, but he was firm in his determination. They would dineand drive together and see all of the old life that was left--onseventy dollars. Then on the next day they would start all over again.There was one rude moment of dismay when it occurred to him that Peggymight be considered an "asset" if she became his wife before nineo'clock. But he realized at once that it was only demanded of him thathe be penniless and that he possess no object that had been acquiredthrough the medium of Edwin Peter Brewster's money. Surely this wifewho was not to come to him until his last dollar was gone could not bethe product of an old man's legacy. But
so careful was he in regard tothe transaction that he decided to borrow money of Joe Bragdon to buythe license and to pay the minister's fee. Not only would he bepenniless on the day of settlement, but he would be in debt. So changedwas the color of the world to him now that even the failure to winSedgwick's millions could not crush out the new life and the new joythat had come to him with the winning of Peggy Gray.