The Colonels Dream | Page 3

Charles W. Chesnutt
call up Mrs. Jerviss,
of course, and let her know about the sale?"
When Mr. French, escorted to the cab by his partner, and accompanied
by a clerk, had left for home, Kirby rang up the doctor, and requested
him to look after Mr. French immediately. He then called for another
number, and after the usual delay, first because the exchange girl was
busy, and then because the line was busy, found himself in
communication with the lady for whom he had asked.
"It's all right, Mrs. Jerviss," he announced without preliminaries. "Our
terms accepted, and payment to be made, in cash and bonds, as soon as
the papers are executed, when you will be twice as rich as you are
to-day."
"Thank you, Mr. Kirby! And I suppose I shall never have another
happy moment until I know what to do with it. Money is a great trial. I
often envy the poor."
Kirby smiled grimly. She little knew how near she had been to ruin.
The active partners had mercifully shielded her, as far as possible, from
the knowledge of their common danger. If the worst happened, she
must know, of course; if not, then, being a woman whom they both
liked--she would be spared needless anxiety. How closely they had

skirted the edge of disaster she did not learn until afterward; indeed,
Kirby himself had scarcely appreciated the true situation, and even the
senior partner, since he had not been present at the meeting of the trust
managers, could not know what had been in their minds.
But Kirby's voice gave no hint of these reflections. He laughed a
cheerful laugh. "If the world only knew," he rejoined, "it would cease
to worry about the pains of poverty, and weep for the woes of wealth."
"Indeed it would!" she replied, with a seriousness which seemed almost
sincere. "Is Mr. French there? I wish to thank him, too."
"No, he has just gone home."
"At this hour?" she exclaimed, "and at such a time? What can be the
matter? Is Phil worse?"
"No, I think not. Mr. French himself had a bad turn, for a few minutes,
after we learned the news."
Faces are not yet visible over the telephone, and Kirby could not see
that for a moment the lady's grew white. But when she spoke again the
note of concern in her voice was very evident.
"It was nothing--serious?"
"Oh, no, not at all, merely overwork, and lack of sleep, and the
suspense--and the reaction. He recovered almost immediately, and one
of the clerks went home with him."
"Has Dr. Moffatt been notified?" she asked.
"Yes, I called him up at once; he'll be at the Mercedes by the time the
patient arrives."
There was a little further conversation on matters of business, and
Kirby would willingly have prolonged it, but his news about Mr.
French had plainly disturbed the lady's equanimity, and Kirby rang off,
after arranging to call to see her in person after business hours.

Mr. Kirby hung up the receiver with something of a sigh.
"A fine woman," he murmured, "I could envy French his chances,
though he doesn't seem to see them--that is, if I were capable of envy
toward so fine a fellow and so good a friend. It's curious how
clearsighted a man can be in some directions, and how blind in others."
Mr. French lived at the Mercedes, an uptown apartment hotel
overlooking Central Park. He had scarcely reached his apartment, when
the doctor arrived--a tall, fair, fat practitioner, and one of the best in
New York; a gentleman as well, and a friend, of Mr. French.
"My dear fellow," he said, after a brief examination, "you've been
burning the candle at both ends, which, at your age won't do at all. No,
indeed! No, indeed! You've always worked too hard, and you've been
worrying too much about the boy, who'll do very well now, with care.
You've got to take a rest--it's all you need. You confess to no bad habits,
and show the signs of none; and you have a fine constitution. I'm going
to order you and Phil away for three months, to some mild climate,
where you'll be free from business cares and where the boy can grow
strong without having to fight a raw Eastern spring. You might try the
Riviera, but I'm afraid the sea would be too much for Phil just yet; or
southern California--but the trip is tiresome. The South is nearer at
hand. There's Palm Beach, or Jekyll Island, or Thomasville, Asheville,
or Aiken--somewhere down in the pine country. It will be just the thing
for the boy's lungs, and just the place for you to rest. Start within a
week, if you can get away. In fact, you've got to
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