Dan The Newsboy43

Dan The Newsboy43

CHAPTER XLI.

 

DAN IS ADOPTED.

 

 

The morning papers contained an account of John Hartley's arrest, and

the crime with which he was charged.

 

Harriet Vernon read it at the breakfast-table with an interest which may

be imagined.

 

"I don't like to rejoice in any man's misfortune," she said to herself,

"but now I can have a few years of peace. My precious brother-in-law

will doubtless pass the next few years in enforced seclusion, and I can

have a settled home."

 

Directly after breakfast, she set out for the humble home of her niece.

She found all at home, for Dan was not to go back to business till

Monday.

 

"Well, my good friend," she said, "I have news for you."

 

"Good news, I hope," said Dan.

 

"Yes, good news. Henceforth I can have Althea with me. The obstacle that

separated us is removed."

 

Mrs. Mordaunt's countenance fell, and Dan looked sober. It was plain

that Althea was to be taken from them, and they had learned to love her.

 

"I am very glad," faltered Mrs. Mordaunt.

 

"You don't look glad," returned Mrs. Vernon.

 

"You see we don't like to part with Althea," explained Dan, who

understood his mother's feelings.

 

"Who said you were to part with the child?" asked Mrs. Vernon, bluntly.

 

"I thought you meant to take her from us."

 

"Oh, I see. Your mistake is a natural one, for I have not told you my

plans. I mean to take a house up town, install Mrs. Mordaunt as my

housekeeper and friend, and adopt this young man (indicating Dan),

provided he has no objection."

 

"How kind you are, Mrs. Vernon," ejaculated Mrs. Mordaunt.

 

"No, I am selfish. I have plenty of money, and no one to care for, or to

care for me. I have taken a fancy to you all, and I am quite sure that

we can all live happily together. Althea is my niece, and you, Dan, may

call me aunt, too, if you like. Is it a bargain?"

 

Dan offered her his hand in a frank, cordial way, which she liked.

 

"So it is settled, then," she said, in a pleased voice. "I ought to warn

you," she added, "that I have the reputation of being ill-tempered. You

may get tired of living with me."

 

"We'll take the risk," said Dan, smiling.

 

Mrs. Vernon, whose habit it was to act promptly, engaged a house on

Madison avenue, furnished it without regard to expense, and in less than

a fortnight, installed her friends in it. Then she had a talk with Dan

about his plans.

 

"Do you wish to remain in your place," she asked, "or would you like to

obtain a better education first?"

 

"To obtain an education," said Dan, promptly.

 

"Then give notice to your employer of your intention."

 

Dan did so.

 

Mrs. Vernon in a second interview informed him that besides defraying

his school expenses, she should give him an allowance of fifty dollars a

month for his own personal needs.

 

"May I give a part of it to my mother?" asked Dan.

 

"No."

 

His countenance fell, but Mrs. Vernon smiled.

 

"You don't ask why I refuse," she said.

 

"I suppose you have a good reason," said Dan, dubiously.

 

"My reason is that I shall pay your mother double this sum. Unless she

is very extravagant it ought to be enough to defray her expenses."

 

"How liberal you are, Mrs. Vernon!" exclaimed Dan, in fresh

astonishment.

 

"Mrs. Vernon!"

 

"Aunt Harriet, I mean."

 

"That is better."

 

All these important changes in the position of the Mordaunts were

unknown to their old friends, who, since their loss of property, had

given them the cold shoulder.

 

One day Tom Carver, in passing the house, saw Dan coming down the steps

quite as handsomely dressed as himself. His surprise and curiosity were

aroused.

 

"Are you running errands?" he asked.

 

"No. What makes you think so?" returned Dan, smiling.

 

"I didn't know what else could carry you to such a house."

 

"Oh, that's easily explained," said Dan. "I live here."

 

"You live there!" ejaculated Tom.

 

"Yes."

 

"Oh, I see. You are in the employ of the family."

 

"Not exactly," said Dan. "I have nothing to do."

 

"Does your mother live there?"

 

"Yes."

 

"You don't mean to say she boards there?"

 

"We are living with my aunt."

 

"Is your aunt rich?" asked Tom, in a more deferential tone.

 

"I believe she is. At any rate she gives me a handsome allowance."

 

"You don't say so! How much does she give you?"

 

"Fifty dollars a month."

 

"And you don't have anything to do?"

 

"Only to study. I am going back to school."

 

"What a lucky fellow!" exclaimed Tom, enviously. "Why, my father only

allows me three dollars a week."

 

"I could get along on that. I don't need as much as my aunt allows me."

 

"I say, Dan," said Tom, in the most friendly terms, "I'm awfully hard

up. Could you lend me five dollars?"

 

"Yes," said Dan, secretly amused with the change in Tom's manner.

 

"You always were a good fellow!" said Tom, linking his arm in Dan's.

"I'm very glad you're rich again. You must come to see me often."

 

"Thank you," said Dan, smiling, "but I'm afraid you have forgotten

something."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"You know I used to be a newsboy in front of the Astor House."

 

"That don't matter."

 

"And you might not care to associate with a newsboy."

 

"Well, you are all right now," said Tom, magnanimously.

 

"You didn't always think so, Tom."

 

"I always thought you were a gentleman, Dan. I am coming to see you

soon. You must introduce me to your aunt."

 

"I suppose it's the way of the world," thought Dan. "It is lucky that

there are some true friends who stick by us through thick and thin."

 

Mrs. Mordaunt had an experience similar to Dan's. Her old acquaintances,

who, during her poverty never seemed to recognize her when they met,

gradually awoke to the consciousness of her continued existence, and

left cards. She received them politely, but rated their professions of

friendship at their true value. They had not been "friends in need," and

she could not count them "friends indeed."

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XLII.

 

CONCLUSION.

 

 

Six years rolled by, bringing with them many changes. The little family

on Madison avenue kept together. Mrs. Vernon was never happier than now.

She had a hearty love for young people, and enjoyed the growth and

development of her niece Althea, and Dan, whom she called her nephew and

loved no less.

 

Dan is now a young man. He completed his preparation for college, and

graduated with high honors. He is no less frank, handsome, and

self-reliant than when as a boy he sold papers in front of the Astor

House for his mother's support. He looks forward to a business life, and

has accepted an invitation to go abroad to buy goods in London and Paris

for his old firm. He was, in fact, preparing to go when a mysterious

letter was put in his hands. It ran thus:

 

 

"MR. DANIEL MORDAUNT:--I shall take it as a great favor if you will

come to the St. Nicholas Hotel this evening, and inquire for me. I

am sick, or I would not trouble you. Do not fail. I have to speak

to you on a matter of great importance.

 

"JOHN DAVIS."