CHAPTER XII
MR. GREY
It was now nearly a year since the great run, as it was called. The story of the part Louie had in it had gotten abroad, and at first the people had some misgivings with regard to the solidity of a bank which, but for the novel help given it, might have toppled over. But this feeling gradually died out, and the National came up like a strong ship out of a storm which had scarred, but not weakened it. Many of its patrons returned to it, and others didn’t. Godfrey Sheldon still held his grudge, and two thousand dollars of his money still reposed, or were supposed to repose, in the Grey Bank, which gave no sign of bursting up, as the judge had predicted it would. To all human appearances, Mr. Grey was more prosperous than ever, and no one in Merivale spent money as freely as he did. He gave to everything; he drove a finer carriage than Judge White, and his bays were far handsomer than the judge’s blacks. His coachman wore a dark grey livery and tall hat. He had made his wife a Christmas present of an exquisite set of diamonds; Louie had a new Steinway, which cost seven hundred dollars, and a diamond ring whose value was estimated anywhere from three hundred to five hundred dollars. There were frequent visits to Boston and New York, where the family stopped at the Touraine and the Waldorf. There was to be a trip to Narragansett Pier for the month of August, and a suite of rooms was engaged at one of the most expensive hotels. For this trip several costumes were being made in Boston and Worcester for Mrs. Grey and Louie, who, Mr. Grey said, should not be behind anyone in dress, if money could buy it.
In the midst of her prosperity Louie did not lose her head at all, but was the same bright, friendly girl, with a pleasant, familiar word for every one. She was too familiar, Herbert thought, trying to repress her. But here he failed. It did not hurt her, she told him, to talk with Nancy Sharp and people like her, and she should do it for all of him! In this respect she was like her father, who never forgot to be polite to every one, and his good-morning to Nancy Sharp was just as cordial as to Judge White.
But gradually a change had come over Mr. Grey; a feeling of depression which he could not shake off, and which was more perceptible at home than when mixing with people outside. There was nothing much the matter, he said to his wife and Louie when questioned as to what ailed him. He had some indigestion and was tired of business and wanted to get away from it awhile, that was all.
“There is nothing the matter with the business, is there? No trouble, I mean?” Louie asked.
“Trouble!” he repeated quickly, with a sharp glance at her. “Of course not. What trouble can there be? I am having deposits all the time; not large ones, but every little helps.”
Louie had learned a good deal of the workings of a bank since the White run, and she continued:
“And these deposits are loaned on good securities? They are safe?”
“Safe! Of course they are safe! Did you think they were not?” her father replied.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I only wanted to be sure, and if these securities should fail you still have enough to pay the depositors if they should run on you as they did on Judge White?”