Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles. Ellen WoodЧитать онлайн книгу.
would throw off his ailments bravely and go on again, not heeding them or thinking that they might ever become serious. Perhaps he never gave a thought to that until one evening when, upon coming in after a hard day's toil, he sat down in his chair and quietly fainted away.
Jane and one of the servants were standing over him when he recovered—Jane's face very pale and anxious.
"Do not be alarmed," he said, smiling at her. "I suppose I dropped asleep; or lost consciousness in some way."
"You fainted, Edgar."
"Fainted, did I? How silly I must have been! The room's warm, Jane: it must have overpowered me."
Jane was not deceived. She saw that he was making light of it to quiet her alarm, and brought him a glass of wine. He drank it, but could not eat anything: frequently could not eat now.
"Edgar," she said, "you are doing too much. I have seen it for a long time past."
"Seen what, Jane?"
"That your strength is not equal to your work. You must give up a portion of your teaching."
"My dear, how can I do so? Does it not take all I earn to meet expenses? When accounts are settled at the end of the year, have we a shilling to spare?"
It was so, and Jane knew it; but her husband's health was above every consideration in the world. "We must reduce our expenses," she said. "We must cease to live as we are living now. We will move into a smaller house, and keep one servant, and I will turn maid-of-all-work."
She laughed quite merrily; but Mr. Halliburton detected a serious meaning in her tone. He shook his head.
"No, Jane; that time, I hope, will never come."
He lay awake all that night buried in reflection. Do you know what this night-reflection is, when it comes to us in all its racking intensity? Surging over his brain, like the wild waves that chase each other on the ocean, came the thought, "What will become of my wife and children if I die?" Thought after thought, they all resolved themselves into that one focus:—"I have made no provision for my wife and children: what will become of them if I am taken?"
Mr. Halliburton had one good habit—it was possible that he had learnt it from his wife, for it was hers in no ordinary degree—the habit of looking steadfastly into the face of trouble. Not to groan and grumble at it—to sigh and lament that no one else's trouble ever was so great before—but to see how it might best be met and contended with; how the best could be made of it.
The only feasible way he could see, was that of insuring his life. He possessed neither lands nor money. Did he attempt to put by a portion of his income, it would take years and years to accumulate into a sum worth mentioning. Why, how long would it take him to economise only a thousand pounds? No. There was only one way—that of life insurance. It was an idea that would have occurred to most of us. He did not know how much it would take from his yearly income to effect it. A great deal, he was afraid; for he was approaching what is called middle life.
He had no secrets from his wife. He consulted her upon every point; she was his best friend, his confidante, his gentle counsellor, and he had no intention of concealing the step he was about to take. Why should he?
"Jane," he began, when they were at breakfast the next morning, "do you know what I have been thinking of all night?"
"Trouble, I am sure," she answered. "You have been very restless."
"Not exactly trouble"—for he did not choose to acknowledge, even to himself, that a strange sense of trouble did seem to rest on his heart and to weigh it down. "I have been thinking more of precaution than trouble."
"Precaution?" echoed Jane, looking at him.
"Ay, love. And the astonishing part of the business, to myself, is that I never thought of the necessity for this precaution before."
Jane divined now what he meant. Often and often had the idea occurred to her—"Should my husband's health or life fail, we are destitute." Not for herself did she so much care, but for her children.
"That sudden attack last night has brought me reflection," he resumed. "Life is uncertain with the best of us. It may be no more uncertain with me than with others; but I feel that I must act as though it were so. Jane, were I taken, there would be no provision for you."
"No," she quietly said.
"And therefore I must set about making one without delay, as far as I can. I shall insure my life."
Jane did not answer immediately. "It will take a great deal of money, Edgar," she presently said.
"I fear it will: but it must be done. What's the matter, Jane? You don't look hopeful over it."
"Because, were you to insure your life, to pay the yearly premium, and our home expenses, would necessitate your working as hard as you do now."
"Well?" said he. "Of course it would."
"In any case, our expenses shall be much reduced; of that I am determined," she went on somewhat dreamily, more it seemed in soliloquy than to her husband. "But, with this premium to pay in addition——"
"Jane," he interrupted, "there's not the least necessity for my relaxing my labours. I shall not think of doing it. I may not be very strong, but I am not ill. As to reducing our expenses, I see no help for that, inasmuch as I must draw from them for the premium."
"If you only can keep your health, Edgar, it is certainly what ought to be done—to insure your life. The thought has often crossed me."
"Why did you never suggest it?"
"I scarcely know. I believe I did not like to do so. And I really did not see how the premium was to be paid. How much shall you insure it for?"
"I thought of two thousand pounds. Could we afford more?"
"I think not. What would be the yearly premium for that sum?"
"I don't know. I will ascertain all particulars. What are you sighing about, Jane?"
Jane was sighing heavily. A weight seemed to have fallen upon her. "To talk of life-insurance puts me too much in mind of death," she murmured.
"Now, Jane, you are never going to turn goose!" he gaily said. "I have heard of persons who will not make a will, because it brings them a fancy they must be going to die. Insuring my life will not bring death any the quicker to me: I hope I shall be here many a year yet. Why, Jane, I may live to pay the insurance over and over again in annual premiums! Better that I had put by the money in a bank, I shall think then."
"The worst of putting by money in a bank, or in any other way, is, that you are not compelled to put it," observed Jane, looking up a little from her depression. "What ought to be put by—what is intended to be put by—too often goes in present wants, and putting by ends in name only: whereas, in life-assurance, the premium must be paid. Edgar," she added, passing to a different subject, "I wonder what we shall make of our boys?"
Mr. Halliburton's cheek flushed. "They shall go to college, please God—though I have not been able to get there myself."
"Oh, I hope so! One or two of them, at any rate."
Little difficulty did there appear to be in the plan to Mr. Halliburton. His boys should enter the University, although he had not done so: the future of our children appears hopeful and easy to most of us. William and Frank were in the school attached to King's College: of which you hear Mr. Halliburton was now a professor. Edgar—never called anything but "Gar"—went to a private school, but he would soon be entered at King's College. Remarkably well-educated boys for their years, were the young Halliburtons. Mr. Halliburton and Jane had taken care of that. Home teaching was more efficient than school: both combined had rendered them unusually intelligent and advanced. Naturally intellectual, gifted with excellent qualities of mind and heart, Mrs. Halliburton had not failed to do her duty by them. She spared no pains; she knew how children ought to be brought up, and she did her duty well. Ah, my friends! only lay a good foundation in their earlier years, and your children will