"Oh, Henry! what is the matter? Where have you been? Why do you look
so?" she eagerly inquired.
Mortimer did not reply; but continued standing like a statue of
despair.
"Henry! Henry!" cried his wife, springing towards him, and laying
her hands upon his arm. "Dear husband! what is the matter?"
"Ruined! Ruined!" now came hoarsely from the lips of Mortimer, and,
with another deep groan, he threw himself on a sofa, and wrung his
hands in uncontrollable anguish.
"Oh, Henry! speak! What does this mean?" said his wife, the tears
now gushing from her eyes. "Tell me what has happened."
But, "Ruined! Ruined!" was all the wretched man would say for a long
time. At last, however, he made a few vague explanations, to the
effect that he would be compelled to stop payment on the next day.
"I thought," said Mrs. Mortimer, "that the sale of this house was to
afford you all the money you needed."
"It is not sold yet," was all his reply to this. He did not explain
that it was under a heavy mortgage, and that, even if sold, the
amount realized would be a trifle compared with his need on the
following day. During the greater part of the night, Mortimer walked
the floor of his chamber; and, for a portion of the time, his wife
moved like a shadow by his side.
Pages:
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271