To say that Fred was shocked, would feebly express his emotion. He had never dreamed of his father's dying,—never dreamed of any thing like misfortune happening to him, of any keener suffering than some temporary annoyance. He felt quite helpless. His old philosophies did not inspire him with courage, or open a way out of this dark present. There was to be a funeral; there were business complications; some one had to think of the future; the mill was shut up, the fortune swept away, and he had been stranded on a strange shore, knowing not which way to turn.
Eastman was still in Yerbury. He was intensely sympathetic with the bereaved family. In fact, now that he would never have to meet the eye of the man he had so deeply wronged, his spirits rose, his pity overflowed. Fred was quite touched by it. Hamilton Minor, with his rather brusque business ways, jarred against his sorrow.
He was rather testy with Mr. Eastman. "For the life of me, I can't see how things have come to this pass," he said sharply. "Hope Mills has been considered as sound as a nut,—one of the surest places in the country. Mr. Lawrence has made thousands and thousands. I have known a good deal about his affairs."
"It is the result of a large-hearted philanthropy,—of keeping poor devils at work when there was no demand for goods, so that they should not starve. I should have closed out the concern two years ago. When you begin to lose, it is time to get out,—not wait until every stiver is gone. But, if ever there was a noble man, it is our dead friend David Lawrence."
His chest swelled as he pronounced this eulogy, and he laid his white hand sympathetically on his waistcoat.
"What is all this bank muddle about?"
"I really don't know. Heavy real-estate business"—
"And you a director!" interrupted Minor, with an unpleasant quickness.
"I have had so much on my hands that I did not pay strict attention to it, I must confess. You know, Minor, what a tremendous shrinkage there has been in values: it seems to me as if the bottom had fallen out of every thing. I have an interest out in Nevada that I am anxious to look after, and should have gone a year ago, but Lawrence begged me to hold over until matters brightened a little. He was so sure times would improve. By Jove! I think they grow worse and worse!"
"And Fred knows no more than a baby!" said Minor, in a tone of contempt. "You'd be a help to him, Eastman, if you would stay and go over accounts."