The very next day came the historic crash,
the record crash, the devastating crash, when the bottom fell out
of Wall Street, and the whole body of gilt-edged stocks dropped
ninety-five points in five hours, and the multimillionaire was seen
begging his bread in the Bowery. Aleck sternly held her grip
and "put up" as long as she could, but at last there came a call
which she was powerless to meet, and her imaginary brokers sold
her out. Then, and not till then, the man in her was vanished,
and the woman in her resumed sway. She put her arms about her
husband's neck and wept, saying:
"I am to blame, do not forgive me, I cannot bear it. We are paupers!
Paupers, and I am so miserable. The weddings will never come off;
all that is past; we could not even buy the dentist, now."
A bitter reproach was on Sally's tongue: "I BEGGED you to sell,
but you--" He did not say it; he had not the heart to add a hurt
to that broken and repentant spirit. A nobler thought came to him
and he said:
"Bear up, my Aleck, all is not lost! You really never invested
a penny of my uncle's bequest, but only its unmaterialized future;
what we have lost was only the incremented harvest from that future
by your incomparable financial judgment and sagacity. Cheer up,
banish these griefs; we still have the thirty thousand untouched;
and with the experience which you have acquired, think what you will
be able to do with it in a couple years! The marriages are not off,
they are only postponed.
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