CHAPTER XIII.  ACCIDENTAL AND CONFIDENTIAL.
1815.
Mr. Wrenford, the bookkeeper, whose tutoring days were now over, sat at his desk in the office, reading letters which had come by morning post addressed to the firm.
Among the letters which he opened and read was one for Mrs. P. Wright, in care of P. Wright, jr., for Phil had chosen Sarah for his bride, and Bearie was preparing a home for Nancy. It was from Abbie, and lay bare to her bosom friend and sister-in-law the deep secrets of her heart.
She had been disappointed, and had resolved at length to give up fretting for one whom she had loved and lost. Could he ever have loved her? Why, if alive and able to communicate with her, had he remained as dead? Could it be that he had laid down his life in defence of the colony with gallant Brock at Queenston? or at Stony Creek? but that would not account for his silence before the invasion. Ever since she had parted with him at Quebec his image had been enshrined in her heart, and now two others were seeking her hand in marriage. One, though unloved and distrusted by every member of the family, her father only excepted, had once again renewed his suit, and her heart turned to him because of his resemblance to his friend, her first love. The other was her brother's most intimate friend, who had assisted in releasing her from her perilous position the night of the sugar party. To say which she loved most was a problem. At times one seemed uppermost in her heart's affection, at times the other.
The letter closed with the following pathetic words: "Would that an angel from heaven could fly down and whisper the name of the one most worthy of my deepest confidence and love. Oft have I wondered, with swelling heart, if the Omniscient thought me unworthy to enter the sacred sphere of wedded life. Now, at last, there seems a ray of hope. Let it be fully understood, dear Sarah, that this is entré nous. Do not whisper it even to Phil."
Wrenford read and re-read the precious missive, and hastily jotting down one or two sentences in his pocket-book, re-folded, re-sealed it and handed it to Phil, who came in shortly afterwards.
The Chief discovered by mere chance that evening that, for some unaccountable reason, his bookkeeper had debited the men with the amount of their wages, and credited them with the amount of their store account, and charged a man with an order for two shillings instead of two pounds, for which he reproved him severely.
Wrenford looked dazed and bewildered, and replied with a deep sigh, after meditating for some time and shifting his attitude uneasily:
"Ah, well, sir, you see, I am not altogether responsible for my actions, for, as a matter of fact, sir, I fear that my affections have run off with my wits, and I feel impelled to lay before you a very important request. For many months I have been exceedingly desirous of approaching your second daughter with a view to marriage, but hesitated to do so without consulting you, sir. I think the time has come when your daughter would consider the matter favorably, and with your consent I shall lose no time in laying the matter before her."
The Chief tilted back his chair, thrust both hands into his pockets, and with a characteristic droop of his right eyelid said slowly:
"You have my full, free and hearty consent, and if you are successful I shall take you into the firm of P. Wright & Sons as a partner."
Wrenford went to the wicket in answer to a call from one of the employees, and the Chief left his seat and stood leaning against the high desk with its set of books, surveying his clerk from head to foot. The fastidiousness of his dress, the arrogance of his manner, his cultured mind, his shrewd business capacity, gave additional effect to his claim. He seeme............