Read Online A Daily Rate by Grace Livingston Hill - Free Book Online
Authors: Grace Livingston Hill
Ads: Link
seemed as if the writing of her name on the receipt book was one of the longest actions she ever performed, and her hand trembled so when she retired to the little cloak room to read her letter that she could scarcely open the envelope, nor take in at first that the letter bore Rawley and Brown’s printed heading. And then she read just a few lines from them asking her to call once more upon them and as soon as possible. She went back to her place among the ribbons feeling almost angry with Rawley and Brown that they had frightened her so, and yet relieved that there was nothing the matter with aunt Hannah.
It was nearly five o’clock, and the crowd of women who were doing rainy day shopping had gone home. The rain was pouring down harder than ever. The store was comparatively empty. Perhaps she might get away for a few moments now; she would ask. Permission was granted her, as she had had only half her noon hour, and she hurried up to the dark little office again.
She found that she was not too late, for Mr. Rawley had not yet gone home, though lie had his overcoat on as if about to depart. It appeared that he wished to ask a few more questions to establish certain facts. Celia answered them as best she could, and then as he seemed to be through with her, she asked timidly:
“Would you be so kind as to tell me what this is all about, anyway? You said there was property. If it should turn out to be mine, what would it be? I suppose you do not mind giving me a general idea of that, do you?”
He looked at her almost kindly under his shaggy brows. “Why no, child!” he said. “That’s perfectly proper, of course. Why, I haven’t the exact figures in my head, but it’s several thousands, well invested, and an old farm up in New York state that’s well rented. There would be enough to give a pretty good income every year you know, and if you left the investments as they are, it would be a continuous one, for they are not likely to fail or fall through. Then, too, there is a considerable accumulation owing to the doubt about the heir. I hope you’ll turn out to be that heir and I have no doubt you will. Good-afternoon.” Celia tripped down the dark old staircase as if it were covered with the softest carpet ever made. Several thousands! What wealth! What luxury! She had wished for one single thousand, and her Father had sent her not one, but many. For she began to believe now that the money was hers. All the evidence seemed to point that way. The lawyer seemed to be convinced, and it needed only the coming of a few documents in possession of her uncle Joseph’s old lawyer to corroborate what she had told him. She felt pretty sure that it was all true. And here she had been cross and growling all day, and worse than that, she had been carrying crosses not meant for her shoulders, and probably leaving undone the things God had laid out for her to do. What wickedness had been hers. Only last night she had knelt in earnest consecration, and now to-day she had fallen so low as almost to forget that she had a Father whose dear child she was, and who was caring for her. Could she not retrieve some of the lost day? She had but one hour left in the store. She would try what she could do. She smiled on the beggar child who stood looking wistfully in at the pretty things, in the store window as she passed in to her work. When she reached the ribbon counter again, she found the head of the department looking very tired, and complaining of a headache. There were other burdens besides her own she could bear. She might offer to do her work for her and let her rest, and she could bring her a glass of water. It was not her business to put up certain ribbons not in her own case, but she could do it for the other girl who was absent and save the head girl. As she made her fingers fly among the bright silks and satins, she wondered if there were more burdens for her to bear for others when she reached the boarding-house, and whether
It was nearly five o’clock, and the crowd of women who were doing rainy day shopping had gone home. The rain was pouring down harder than ever. The store was comparatively empty. Perhaps she might get away for a few moments now; she would ask. Permission was granted her, as she had had only half her noon hour, and she hurried up to the dark little office again.
She found that she was not too late, for Mr. Rawley had not yet gone home, though lie had his overcoat on as if about to depart. It appeared that he wished to ask a few more questions to establish certain facts. Celia answered them as best she could, and then as he seemed to be through with her, she asked timidly:
“Would you be so kind as to tell me what this is all about, anyway? You said there was property. If it should turn out to be mine, what would it be? I suppose you do not mind giving me a general idea of that, do you?”
He looked at her almost kindly under his shaggy brows. “Why no, child!” he said. “That’s perfectly proper, of course. Why, I haven’t the exact figures in my head, but it’s several thousands, well invested, and an old farm up in New York state that’s well rented. There would be enough to give a pretty good income every year you know, and if you left the investments as they are, it would be a continuous one, for they are not likely to fail or fall through. Then, too, there is a considerable accumulation owing to the doubt about the heir. I hope you’ll turn out to be that heir and I have no doubt you will. Good-afternoon.” Celia tripped down the dark old staircase as if it were covered with the softest carpet ever made. Several thousands! What wealth! What luxury! She had wished for one single thousand, and her Father had sent her not one, but many. For she began to believe now that the money was hers. All the evidence seemed to point that way. The lawyer seemed to be convinced, and it needed only the coming of a few documents in possession of her uncle Joseph’s old lawyer to corroborate what she had told him. She felt pretty sure that it was all true. And here she had been cross and growling all day, and worse than that, she had been carrying crosses not meant for her shoulders, and probably leaving undone the things God had laid out for her to do. What wickedness had been hers. Only last night she had knelt in earnest consecration, and now to-day she had fallen so low as almost to forget that she had a Father whose dear child she was, and who was caring for her. Could she not retrieve some of the lost day? She had but one hour left in the store. She would try what she could do. She smiled on the beggar child who stood looking wistfully in at the pretty things, in the store window as she passed in to her work. When she reached the ribbon counter again, she found the head of the department looking very tired, and complaining of a headache. There were other burdens besides her own she could bear. She might offer to do her work for her and let her rest, and she could bring her a glass of water. It was not her business to put up certain ribbons not in her own case, but she could do it for the other girl who was absent and save the head girl. As she made her fingers fly among the bright silks and satins, she wondered if there were more burdens for her to bear for others when she reached the boarding-house, and whether
Similar Books
