Stories of Mystery | Page 9

thought
to himself, Hoh!--blazoning her poverty,--manufacturing sympathy
already,--the old trick; and steeled himself against any attacks of that
kind, looking jealously, meanwhile, at Netty.
"Well, Mrs. Miller," he said, "what is it this evening? I suppose you've
brought me my rent."

The little woman grew paler, and her voice seemed to fail on her
quivering lips. Netty cast a quick, beseeching look at her father.
"Nathalie, please to leave the room." We'll have no nonsense carried on
here, he thought, triumphantly, as Netty rose, and obeyed the stern,
decisive order, leaving the door ajar behind her.
He seated himself in his chair, and resolutely put his right leg up to rest
on his left knee. He did not look at his tenant's face, determined that her
piteous expressions (got up for the occasion, of course) should be
wasted on him.
"Well, Mrs. Miller," he said again.
"Dr. Renton," she began, faintly gathering her voice as she proceeded,
"I have come to see you about the rent. I am very sorry, sir, to have
made you wait, but we have been unfortunate."
"Sorry, ma'am," he replied, knowing what was coming; "but your
misfortunes are not my affair. We all have misfortunes, ma'am. But we
must pay our debts, you know."
"I expected to have got money from my husband before this, sir," she
resumed, "and I wrote to him. I got a letter from him to-day, sir, and it
said that he sent me fifty dollars a month ago, in a letter; and it appears
that the post-office is to blame, or somebody, for I never got it. It was
nearly three months' wages, sir, and it is very hard to lose it. If it hadn't
been for that your rent would have been paid long ago, sir."
"Don't believe a word of that story," thought Dr. Renton, sententiously.
"I thought, sir," she continued, emboldened by his silence, "that if you
would be willing to wait a little longer, we would manage to pay you
soon, and not let it occur again. It has been a hard winter with us, sir;
firing is high, and provisions, and everything; and we're only poor
people, you know, and it's difficult to get along."
The doctor made no reply.

"My husband was unfortunate, sir, in not being able to get employment
here," she resumed; "his being out of work in the autumn, threw us all
back, and we've got nothing to depend on but his earnings. The family
that he's in now, sir, don't give him very good pay,--only twenty dollars
a month, and his board,--but it was the best chance he could get, and it
was either go to Baltimore with them, or stay at home and starve, and
so he went, sir. It's been a hard time with us, and one of the children is
sick, now, with a fever, and we don't hardly know how to make out a
living. And so, sir, I have come here this evening, leaving the children
alone, to ask you if you wouldn't be kind enough to wait a little longer,
and we'll hope to make it right with you in the end."
"Mrs. Miller," said Dr. Renton, with stern composure, "I have no wish
to question the truth of any statement you may make; but I must tell
you plainly, that I can't afford to let my houses for nothing. I told you a
month ago, that if you couldn't pay me my rent, you must vacate the
premises. You know very well that there are plenty of tenants who are
able and willing to pay when the money comes due. You know that."
He paused as he said this, and, glancing at her, saw her pale lips falter.
It shook the cruelty of his purpose a little, and he had a vague feeling
that he was doing wrong. Not without a proud struggle, during which
no word was spoken, could he beat it down. Meanwhile, the phantom
had advanced a pace toward the centre of the room.
"That is the state of the matter, ma'am," he resumed, coldly. "People
who will not pay me my rent must not live in my tenements. You must
move out. I have no more to say."
"Dr. Renton," she said, faintly, "I have a sick child,--how can I move
now? O, sir, it's Christmas eve,--don't be hard with us!"
Instead of touching him, this speech irritated him beyond measure.
Passing all considerations of her difficult position involved in her
piteous statement, his anger flashed at once on her implication that he
was unjust and unkind. So violent was his excitement that it whirled
away the words that rushed to his lips, and only fanned the fury that
sparkled from the whiteness of his face in his eyes.

"Be patient with