”We are on very good terms,“ answered Phil, smiling.
”I wish you had introduced him to me,“ said Wilbur.
”Don't you know him?“ asked Phil, in surprise.
”He doesn't often come to the store, and when he does he generally goes at once to the office, and the clerks don't have a chance to get acquainted.“
”I should hardly like to take the liberty, then,“ said Phil.
”Oh, keep him to yourself, then, if you want to,“ said Mr. Wilbur, evidently annoyed.
”I don't care to do that. I shall be entirely willing to introduce you when there is a good chance.“
This seemed to appease Mr. Wilbur, who became once more gracious.
”Philip,“ he said, as the hour of closing approached, ”why can't you come around and call upon me this evening?“
”So I will,“ answered Phil readily.
Indeed, he found it rather hard to fill up his evenings, and was glad to have a way suggested.
”Do. I want to tell you a secret.“
”Where do you live?“ asked Phil.
”No.----East Twenty-second Street.“
”All right. I will come round about half-past seven.“
Though Wilbur lived in a larger house than he, Phil did not like his room as well. There being only one chair in the room, Mr. Wilbur put his visitor in it, and himself sat on the bed.
There was something of a mystery in the young man's manner as, after clearing his throat, he said to Phil:
”I am going to tell you a secret.“
Phil's curiosity was somewhat stirred, and he signified that he would like to hear it.
”I have for some time wanted a confidant,“ said Mr. Wilbur. ”I did not wish to trust a mere acquaintance, for--ahem!--the matter is quite a delicate one.
Phil regarded him with increased interest.
”I am flattered by your selecting me,“ said he. ”I will keep your secret.“
”Phil,“ said Mr. Wilbur, in a tragic tone, ”you may be surprised to hear that I am in LOVE!“
Phil started and wanted to laugh, but Mr. Wilbur's serious, earnest look restrained him.
”Ain't you rather young?“ he ventured to say.
”No; I am nineteen,“ answered Mr. Wilbur.
”The heart makes no account of years.“
Whether this was original or borrowed, Phil could not tell.
”Have you been in love long?“ asked Phil.
”Three weeks.“
”Does the lady know it?“
”Not yet,“ returned Mr. Wilbur. ”I have worshiped her from afar. I have never even spoken to her.“
”Then the matter hasn't gone very far?“
”No, not yet.“
”Where did you meet her first?“
”In a Broadway stage.“
”What is her name?“
”I don't know.“
”You don't know much about her, then?“
”Yes; I know where she lives.“
”Where?“
”On Lexington Avenue.“
”Whereabouts?“
”Between Twenty-ninth and Thirtieth Streets. Would you like to see her house?“
”Yes,“ answered Phil, who saw that Mr. Wilbur wished him so to answer.
”Then come out. We might see her.“
The two boys--for Mr. Wilbur, though he considered himself a young man of large experience, was really scarcely more than a boy--bent their steps to Lexington Avenue, and walked in a northerly direction.
They had reached Twenty-eighth Street, when the door of house farther up on the avenue was opened and a lady came out.
”That's she!“ ejaculated Mr. Wilbur, clutching Phil by the arm.
Phil looked, and saw a tall young lady, three or four inches taller than his friend and as many years older. He looked at his companion with surprise.
”Is that the young lady you are in love with?“ he asked.
”Yes; isn't she a daisy?“ asked the lover fervently.
”I am not much of a judge of daisies,' answered Phil, a little embarrassed, for the young lady had large features, and was, in his eyes, very far from pretty.
CHAPTER XIV.
CONSULTING THE ORACLE.
PHIL did not like to hurt the feelings of his companion, and refrained from laughing, though with difficulty.
”She doesn't appear to know you,“ he said.
”No,“ said Wilbur; ”I haven't had a chance to make myself known to her.“
”Do you think you can make a favorable impression upon--the daisy?“ asked Phil, outwardly sober, but inwardly amused.
”I always had a taking way with girls,“ replied Mr. Wilbur complacently.
Phil coughed. It was all that saved him from laughing.
While he was struggling with the inclination, the lady inadvertently dropped a small parcel which she had been carrying in her hand. The two boys were close behind. Like an arrow from the bow Mr. Wilbur sprang forward, picked up the parcel, and while his heart beat wildly, said, as he tendered it to the owner, with a graceful bow and captivating smile:
”Miss, I believe you dropped this.“
”Thank you, my good boy,“ answered the daisy pleasantly.
Mr. Wilbur staggered back as if he had been struck. He fell back in discomfiture, and his face showed the mortification and anguish he felt.
”Did you hear what she said?“ he asked, in a hollow voice.
”She called you a boy, didn't she?“
”Yes,“ answered Mr. Wilbur sadly.
”Perhaps she may be near-sighted,“ said Phil consolingly.
”Do you think so?“ asked Mr. Wilbur hopefully.
”It is quite possible. Then you are short, you know.“
”Yes, it must be so,“ said G. Washington Wilbur, his face more serene. ”If she hadn't been she would have noticed my mustache.“
”True.“
”She spoke kindly. If--if she had seen how old I was, it would have been different, don't you think so?“
”Yes, no doubt.“
”There is only one thing to do,“ said Mr. Wilbur, in a tone of calm resolve.
”What is that?“ inquired Phil, in some curiosity.
”I must wear a stove-pipe hat! As you say, I am small, and a near-sighted person might easily suppose me to be younger than I am. Now, with a stove-pipe hat I shall look much older.“
”Yes, I presume so.“
”Then I can make her acquaintance again, and she will not mistake me. Phil, why don't you wear a stove-pipe?“
”Because I don't want to look any older than I am. Besides, an errand-boy wouldn't look well in a tall hat.“
”No, perhaps not.“
”And Mr. Pitkin would hardly like it.“
”Of course. When you are a salesman like me it will be different.“
Mr. Wilbur was beginning to recover his complacency, which had been so rudely disturbed.
”I suppose you wouldn't think of marrying on your present salary?“ said Phil. ”Six dollars a week wouldn't support a married pair very well.“
”The firm would raise my salary. They always do when a man marries. Besides, I have other resources.“
”Indeed?“
”Yes; I am worth two thousand dollars. It was left me by an aunt, and is kept in trust for me until I am twenty-one. I receive the interest now.“
”I congratulate you,“ said Phil, who was really pleased to hear of his companion's good fortune.
”That money will come in handy.“
”Besides, I expect she's got money,“ continued Mr. Wilbur. ”Of course, I love her for herself alone--I am not mercenary--still, it will be a help when we are married.“
”So it will,“ said Phil, amused at the confident manner in which Mr. Wilbur spoke of marriage with a lady of whom he knew absolutely nothing.
”Philip,“ said Mr. Wilbur, ”when I marry, I want you to stand up with me--to be my groomsman.“
”
If I am in the city, and can afford to buy a dress-suit, I might consent.“
”Thank you. You are a true friend!“ said Mr. Wilbur, squeezing his hand fervently.
The two returned to Mr. Wilbur's room and had a chat. At an early hour Phil returned to his own boarding-place.
As time passed on, Phil and Wilbur spent considerable time together out of the store. Mr. G. Washington Wilbur, apart from his amusing traits, was a youth of good principles and good disposition, and Phil was glad of his company. Sometimes they went to cheap amusements, but not often, for neither had money to spare for such purposes.
Some weeks after Phil's entrance upon his duties Mr. Wilbur made a proposal to Phil of a startling nature.
”Suppose we have our fortunes told, Phil?“ he said.
”If it would help my fortune, or hurry it up, I shouldn't object,“ said Phil, smiling.
”I want to know what fate has in store for me,“ said Wilbur.
”Do you think the fortune-tellers know any better than you do?“ asked Phil incredulously.
”They tell some strange things,“ said Wilbur.
”What, for instance?“
”An aunt of mine went to a fortune-teller and asked if she would ever be married, and when? She was told that she would be married before she was twenty-two, to a tall, light-complexioned man.“
”Did it come true?“
”Yes, every word,“ said Mr. Wilbur solemnly. ”She was married three months before her twenty- second birthday, and her husband was just the kind of man that was predicted. Wasn't that strange?“
”The fortune-teller might easily have guessed all that. Most girls are married as young as that.“
”But not to tall, light-complexioned men!“ said Wilbur triumphantly.
”Is there anything you wish particularly to know?“ asked Phil.
”I should like to know if I am going to marry-- you know who.“
”The daisy?“
”Yes.“
Phil was not much in favor of the scheme, but finally agreed to it.
There was a certain ”Veiled Lady,“ who advertised her qualifications in the Herald, as the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, and therefore gifted with the power to read the future. Mr. Wilbur made choice of her, and together they went to call upon her one evening.
They were shown into an anteroom, and in due time Mr. Wilbur was called into the dread presence. He was somewhat nervous and agitated, but ”braced up,“ as he afterward expressed it, and went in. He wanted Phil to go in with him, but the attendant said that madam would not allow it, and he went forward alone.
Fifteen minutes afterward he re-entered the room with a radiant face.
”Have you heard good news?“ asked Phil.
Mr. Wilbur nodded emphatically and whispered, for there were two others in waiting:
”It's all right. I am to marry her.“
”Did the fortune-teller say so?“
”Yes.“
”Did she give her name?“
”No, but she described her so that I knew her at once.“
”Will it be soon?“ asked Phil slyly.
”Not till I am twenty-four,“ answered Mr. Wilbur soberly. ”But perhaps she may be mistaken about that. Perhaps she thought I was older than I am.“
”Do you doubt her knowledge, then?“
”No; at any rate, I can wait, since she is to be mine at last. Besides, I am to be rich. When I am thirty years old I am to be worth twenty thousand dollars.“
”I congratulate you, Wilbur,“ said Phil, smiling. ”You are all right, at least,“
”The next gentleman!“ said the attendant.
Phil entered the inner room, and looked about him in curiosity.
A tall woman sat upon a sort of throne, with one hand resting on a table beside her. A tall wax- taper supplied the place of the light of day, which was studiously excluded from the room by thick, dark curtains. Over the woman's face was a black veil, which gave her an air of mystery.
”Come hither, boy!“ she said, in a clear, commanding voice.
Phil advanced, not wholly unimpressed, though he felt skeptical.
The woman bent forward, starting slightly and scanned his face eagerly.
CHAPTER XV.
PHIL AND THE FORTUNE-TELLER.
DO YOU wish to hear of the past or the future?“ asked the fortune-teller.
”Tell me something of the past,“ said Phil, with a view of testing the knowledge of the seeress.
”You have left an uncongenial home to seek your fortune in New York. You left without regret, and those whom you have left behind do not miss you.“
Phil started in amazement. This was certainly true.
”Shall I find the fortune I seek?“ asked our hero earnestly.
”Yes, but not in the way you expect. You think yourself alone in the world!“
The fortune-teller paused, and looked searchingly at the boy.
”So I am,“ returned Phil.
”No boy who has a father living can consider himself alone.“
”My father is dead!“ returned Phil, growing skeptical.
”You are mistaken.“
”I am not likely to be mistaken in such a matter. My father died a few months since.“
”Your father still lives!“ said the fortune-teller sharply. ”Do not contradict me!“
”I don't see how you can say that. I attended his funeral.“
”You attended the funeral of the man whose name you bear. He was not your father.“
Phil was much excited by this confirmation of his step-mother's story. He had entertained serious doubts of its being true, thinking it might have been trumped up by Mrs. Brent to drive him from home, and interfere with his succession to any part of Mr. Brent's property.
”Is my step-mother's story true, then?“ he asked breathlessly. ”She told me I was not the son of Mr. Brent.“
”Her story was true,“ said the veiled lady.
”Who is my real father, then?“
The lady did not immediately reply. She seemed to be peering into distant space, as she said slowly:
”I see a man of middle size, dark-complexioned, leading a small child by the hand. He pauses before a house--it looks like an inn. A lady comes out from the inn. She is kindly of aspect. She takes the child by the hand and leads him into the inn. Now I see the man go away--alone. The little child remains behind. I see him growing up. He has become a large boy, but the scene has changed. The inn has disappeared. I see a pleasant village and a comfortable house. The boy stands at the door. He is well-grown now. A lady stands on the threshold as his steps turn away. She is thin and sharp-faced. She is not like the lady who welcomed the little child. Can you tell me who this boy is?“ asked the fortune-teller, fixing her eyes upon Phil.
”It is myself!“ he answers, his flushed face showing the excitement he felt.
”You have said!“
”I don't know how you have learned all this,“ said Phil, ”but it is wonderfully exact. Will you answer a question?“
”Ask!“
”You say my father--my real father--is living?“
The veiled lady bowed her head.
”Where is he?“
”That I cannot say, but he is looking for you.“
”He is in search of me?“
”Yes.“
”Why has he delayed it so long?“
”There are circumstances which I cannot explain which have prevented his seeking and claiming you.“
”Will he do so?“
”I have told you that he is now seeking for you. I think he will find you at last.“
”What can I do to bring this about?“
”Do nothing! Stay where you are. Circumstances are working favorably, but you must wait.
There are some drawbacks.“
”What are they?“
”You have two enemies, or rather one, for the other does not count.“
”Is that enemy a man?“<
br />
”No, it is a woman.“
”My step-mother!“ ejaculated Phil, with immediate conviction.
”You have guessed aright.“
”And who is the other?“
”A boy.“
”Jonas?“
”It is the son of the woman whom you call your step-mother.“
”What harm can they do me? I am not afraid of them,“ said Phil, raising his head proudly.
”Do not be too confident! The meanest are capable of harm. Mrs. Brent does not like you because she is a mother.“
”She fears that I will interfere with her son.“
”You are all right.“
”Is there anything more you can tell me?“ asked Phil. ”Have I any other enemies?“
”Yes; there are two more--also a woman and her son.“
”That puzzles me. I can think of no one.“
”They live in the city.“
”I know. It is Mrs. Pitkin, my employer's wife. Why should she dislike me?“
”There is an old man who likes you. That is the cause.“
”I see. She doesn't want him to be kind to any one out of the family.“
”That is all I have to tell you,“ said the fortune- teller abruptly. ”You can go.“
”You have told me strange things,“ said Phil.
”Will you tell me how it is you know so much about a stranger?“
”I have nothing more to tell you. You can go!“ said the veiled lady impatiently.
”At least tell me how much I am to pay you.“
”Nothing.“
”But I thought you received fees.“
”Not from you.“
”Did you not take something from my friend who was in here before me?“
”Yes.“
”You told him a good fortune.“
”He is a fool!“ said the fortune-teller contemptuously. ”I saw what he wanted and predicted it.“
She waved her hand, and Phil felt that he had no excuse for remaining longer.
He left the room slowly, and found Mr. Wilbnr anxiously awaiting him.
”What did she tell you, Phil?“ he asked eagerly.
”Did she tell you what sort of a wife you would have?“
”No. I didn't ask her,“ answered Phil, smiling.
”I should think you'd want to know. What did she tell you, then?“
”She told me quite a number of things about my past life and the events of my childhood.“
The Errand Boy; or, How Phil Brent Won Success Page 6