PAGE 9
My Terminal Moraine
by
“What are you talking about, Susan; what do you mean?”
“Well, sir, this is what I mean: It was only last night that my daughter Jane was in Mr. Havelot’s dining-room after dinner was over, and Mr. Havelot and a friend of his were sitting there, smoking their cigars and drinking their coffee. She went in and come out again as she was busy takin’ away the dishes, and they paid no attention to her, but went on talkin’ without knowing, most likely, she was there. Mr. Have-lot and the gentleman were talkin’ about you, and Jane she heard Mr. Havelot say as plain as anything, and she said she couldn’t be mistaken, that even if your nonsensical ice-mine proved to be worth anything, he would never let his daughter marry an ice-man. He spoke most disrespectful of ice-men, sir, and said that it would make him sick to have a son-in-law whose business it was to sell ice to butchers, and hotels, and grog-shops, and pork-packers, and all that sort of people, and that he would as soon have his daughter marry the man who supplied a hotel with sausages as the one who supplied it with ice to keep those sausages from spoiling. You see, sir, Mr. Havelot lives on his property as his father did before him, and he is a very proud man, with a heart as hard and cold as that ice down under your land; and it’s borne in on me very strong, sir, that it would be a bad thing for you to keep on thinkin’ that you are gettin’ this house all ready to bring Miss Havelot to when you have married her. For if Mr. Havelot keeps on livin’, which there’s every chance of his doin’, it may be many a weary year before you get Miss Agnes, if you ever get her. And havin’ said that, sir, I say no more, and I would not have said this much if I hadn’t felt it my bounden duty to your father’s son to warn him that most likely he was workin’ for what he might never get, and so keep him from breakin’ his heart when he found out the truth all of a sudden.”
With that Susan left me, without offering any assistance in making out a list of china. This was a terrible story; but, after all, it was founded only upon servants’ gossip. In this country, even proud, rich men like Mr. Havelot did not have such absurd ideas regarding the source of wealth. Money is money, and whether it is derived from the ordinary products of the earth, from which came much of Mr. Havelot’s revenue, or from an extraordinary project such as my glacier spur, it truly could not matter so far as concerned the standing in society of its possessor. What utter absurdity was this which Susan had told me! If I were to go to Mr. Havelot and tell him that I would not marry his daughter because he supplied brewers and bakers with the products of his fields, would he not consider me an idiot? I determined to pay no attention to the idle tale. But alas! determinations of that sort are often of little avail. I did pay attention to it, and my spirits drooped.
The tunnel into the glacier spur had now attained considerable length, and the ice in the interior was found to be of a much finer quality than that first met with, which was of a grayish hue and somewhat inclined to crumble. When the workmen reached a grade of ice as good as they could expect, they began to enlarge the tunnel into a chamber, and from this they proposed to extend tunnels in various directions after the fashion of a coal-mine. The ice was hauled out on sledges through the tunnel and then carried up a wooden railway to the mouth of the shaft.