“Don’t get discouraged, my dear friend,” said the minister. “It is a long and wearisome journey across the plains. I believe Tom is quite safe, and that you will soon receive tidings from him.”
“I wish I could feel so,” said Mrs. Thatcher, sadly. “Mr. Julian, he is my only boy. I have Tillie, but my hopes rested with him. I looked to Tom to be the prop of my old age. Without him my life will be worth nothing.”
“Don’t say that, Mrs. Thatcher. You will still have your daughter to live for. But don’t give up Tom. He is a manly boy, and will come back to you well and prosperous, if God wills.”
“But if he is well why doesn’t he write? He is not a boy to give me unnecessary anxiety by neglect.”
“I can’t explain that, but I can easily believe that the western mails are irregular.”
This thought gave Mrs. Thatcher courage for a time, but soon another cause of anxiety presented itself. When at Mr. Bacon’s, she had drawn upon her reserve fund of money more freely because she thought her position a permanent one. When she unexpectedly lost it this fund had considerably diminished.
She found herself at length with but five dollars left, and the thought forced itself upon her that she must mortgage her little place. Just at this juncture she received a call from John Simpson.
“Have you heard anything from Tom?” asked the manufacturer blandly, as he took a seat in Mrs. Thatcher’s little sitting-room.
“No, Mr. Simpson,” answered the widow, with a spasm of pain.
“Oh, Mr. Simpson, you don’t know how anxious I am about him,” said the poor mother, sadly.
“Very natural, but I always thought it was unwise to let him go so far away. Don’t you think so yourself?”
“Perhaps you are right, but I acted for the best. Then there was nothing for Tom to do here. You had dismissed him from the shop.”
“Yes, I know, but I would have taken him back again after awhile.”
“Why didn’t you tell him so. Then he would have been here now.”
“Things may turn out for the best after all, Mrs. Thatcher,” said Mr. Simpson, evading a direct reply. “Meanwhile, I came in to see if there was any way in which I could help you.”
Mrs. Thatcher looked surprised. John Simpson was about the last person from whom she would have expected an offer of assistance.