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Arthur, T. S. (Timothy Shay), 1809-1885

"All's for the Best"

We do not
wish to be rude or uncourteous, Miss W----, but our business with
your father is imperative, and we must see him. I, for one, do not
intend leaving the house until I meet him face to face!"
"Will you walk up stairs?" I had the presence of mind and decision
to say, and I moved from the parlor into the passage. The men
followed, and I led them up to the chamber where our distressed
family were gathered around my father. As we entered the hushed
apartment the men pressed forward somewhat eagerly, but their steps
were suddenly arrested. The sight was one to make its own
impression. My father's face, deathly in its hue, was turned towards
the door, and from his bared arm a stream of dark blood was flowing
sluggishly. The physician had just opened a vein.
"Come! This is no place for us," I heard one of the men whisper to
the other, and they withdrew as unceremoniously as they had entered.
Scarcely had they gone ere the loud ringing of the door bell sounded
through the house again.
"What does all this mean!" whispered my distressed mother.
"I cannot tell. Something is wrong," was all that I could answer;
and a vague, terrible fear took possession of my heart.
In the midst of our confusion, uncertainty and distress, my uncle,
the only relative of my mother, arrived, and from him we learned the
crushing fact that my father's paper had been that day dishonored at
bank.


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