Part 30 (1/2)
A MESSENGER OF GOOD TIDINGS.
There stands a large tenement-house on East Fourteenth street, five stories in height, and with several entrances. Scores of barefooted and scantily attired children play in the halls or on the sidewalk in front, and the great building is a human hive, holding scores of families. Some of them, unaccustomed to live better, are tolerably content with their squalid and contracted accommodations; but a few, reduced by gradual steps from respectability and comfort, find their positions very hard to bear.
On the third floor three small rooms were occupied by Mr. and Mrs.
Robert Morgan, and their two children. She was the daughter of Mrs.
Graham, and had been reared in affluence. How she had incurred her father's displeasure has already been told. He had been taken sick some months before, his little stock of money had melted away, and now he was unable even to pay the small expenses of life in a tenement-house.
Just before Frank made his appearance there was sadness in the little household.
”How much money is there left, Ellen?” asked Robert Morgan.
”Seventy-five cents,” she answered, in a tone which she tried to make cheerful.
”And our week's rent will become due to-morrow.”
”I may hear from mother,” suggested Mrs. Morgan.
”If you don't, I don't know what will become of us all. We shall be thrust into the street. Even this squalid home will be taken from us.”
”Don't get discouraged, Robert.”
”Isn't there enough to make me despondent, Ellen? I can see now that I did very wrong to marry you.”
”Do you regret our marriage, then, Robert?” asked his wife.
”Only because it has brought you poverty and discomfort.”
”I have not yet regretted it.”
”How different a position you would have occupied if I had not dragged you down! You would still be living in luxury.”
”I should not have you and these dear children.”
”And will they compensate you for what has come upon you?”
”Yes,” she answered, emphatically.
”You have more philosophy than I have, Ellen.”
”More trust, perhaps. Do you know, Robert, I think we are on the eve of good fortune?”
”I hope so, but I see no prospects of it.”
Just then there was a knock at the door.
Thinking that it might be some humble neighbor, on a borrowing expedition, Mrs. Morgan opened the door. Before her stood our hero in his uniform.
”Is this Mrs. Robert Morgan?” asked Frank.