And now let us turn to Mr. Verne, who is in a sad state of physical prostration.
The financial storm which overhung his daily prospect has at last swooped down upon him in merciless fury, hurling down every hope that hitherto buoyed him up and whispered encouraging words as he struggled on.
Mr. Verne had shut himself in his private apartments and asked that he might be left alone.
But ere long he was besieged by interviewers. Reporters, anxious to give the full benefit of the sad disaster to the clamoring public, who must know to a farthing the amount of the liabilities, and, of course, the assets.
But before "morning wore into evening" Mr. Verne had the comforting assurance of a sympathetic heart. Mrs. Montgomery had a telegram conveying news of the assignment, and in a few hours she was at home in "Sunnybank," trying every means within her power to console her stricken brother-in-law.
"It will never do to allow him to give up in this manner," said the true-hearted woman in a conversation with an old and tried friend of the family. "Something must be done to rouse him."
On the same evening a Globe containing the news of the failure was handed to Mr. Verne as he sat with bowed head gazing mechanically at the list of figures before him. The notice was favorable to the man of business. It spoke of the sterling integrity of Stephen Verne, and showed that the disastrous crash was from circumstances over which he had no control.
The cause of the assignment, it said, was due to the uncertainty of the moneys due him. The liabilities were large, but the assets would nearly cover them, and one thing was certain, the estate would not hold back one cent.
"Thank God," cried Mr. Verne as he threw down the paper and once more folded his arms across his breast, looking, as indeed he was, a total physical wreck.
But human charity is not common to the general public, nor among the weaker sex.