Rich Enough | Page 6

leave the city. At length, a letter arrived from Charlotte, claiming the visit; and he substituted one of his clerks to conduct his family to his brother's residence. Here, though not more than forty miles from the city, Mrs. Draper found the freshness and novelty of country life. The family were farmers, children and all. Charlotte was acquainted with all the little details belonging to a farm, and took as much interest as her husband did in the growth of grain, the raising of pigs and poultry, and feeding cattle in the best and most economical manner. She displayed her dairy with its cheese arranged on shelves, her white pans of milk, and her newly-churned butter, which impregnated the air with its sweetness.
It was with long-forgotten feelings of health that Frances breathed the atmosphere around her; she perceived that her respiration was more free. "How ignorant I was," said she to Howard, "to compare my city garden to the country! There is music in every accidental sound. How fresh is the air! how unlike the mornings to which I have been accustomed, where the voice of the teamster urging on his over-loaded horse, or the monotonous cry of the fishmonger, disturbed my slumbers!"
Her heart beat with pleasure as she saw her children go forth with their cousins to rural enjoyments: her tender bud, which she had often feared would never live to unfold its beauty, her little Charlotte, she saw here as joyous and as active as her sister. New hopes and anticipations brightened the future. How does returning health change the prospect of external circumstances! The cough was much less constant, and Charlotte, who professed to have wonderful skill in curing diseases, had undertaken to eradicate it. She did not approve of late slumbers, and every morning she brought her patient a tumbler of new milk, and challenged her to come out and breathe the fresh air. "Do not wait," said she, "till its wings are clogged by the smoke of the city; come and win an appetite for our country breakfast, our new-laid eggs: the children are hunting for them amongst the hay, and here comes my little namesake with her prize: she has brought hers for your breakfast."
Mr. Draper did not arrive at the time he appointed, and Frances often felt the sickness of hope delayed. "Deliver me from such excellent husbands," said Charlotte to Howard, "who are wasting the best years of their lives in acquiring wealth for their families, and yet never think themselves rich enough. Here is poor Frances, kept in a state of feverish anxiety, when rest and tranquillity are absolutely necessary for the restoration of her health."
The Saturday evening following, Mr. Draper arrived. He was delighted to see his wife and children, and thought they looked remarkably well. On Sunday morning, he walked with his brother over the farm, and calculated the probable receipts of the year. Away from the atmosphere of business, his mind seemed to recover its former freshness. "How beautiful this stillness is!" said he: "it reminds me of the mythology of the heathen world; the ancients used to say that when Pan slept, all nature held its breath, lest it should awake him. You have made an enthusiast of Frances; nothing will do for her now but the country."
"My wife is anxious about the health of yours," said Howard; "she thinks her cough an indication of weak lungs."
"I know," said Mr. Draper, stopping short, "she is subject to a cough; ours is a miserable climate; I hope the warm weather will entirely banish it. I have a bad cough myself;"--and he coughed with energy.
"I wish, brother," said Howard, "that period had arrived, at which you have so long been aiming, that you thought yourself rich enough to devote more time to your family."
"No one can look forward to it more eagerly than I do," replied Mr. Draper; "but you can little understand the difficulty of withdrawing from business. However, I fully mean to do it, when I have secured to my wife and children an inheritance."
Howard smiled.
"O," said Mr. Draper, in reply to the smile, "you must not suppose my wants can be measured by yours. Your farm supplies you with the materials of life, and you get them at a cheap rate."
"I give for them what you give," said Howard, "time,--and a little more,--I give manual labor; you know I belong to the working class. In this money-making day, men despise small gains, and yet my own experience tells me they are sufficient for happiness. Great wealth can add but little to our enjoyments; domestic happiness, you will allow, is cheaply bought, as far as money is concerned, and riches cannot add a great deal to our corporeal enjoyment. The pleasures of sense are wisely limited to