May Brooke | Page 8

counter stood a neat, pleasant old lady assorting worsteds, who smiled a welcome the moment she saw who it was who had entered.
"Ah, my dear Miss May how do you do? come near the stove and sit down. It is not yet our busy time of day, and we can have a nice chat."
"You will please excuse me now, dear Mrs. Tabb, I have been away much longer from home than I expected, and must hurry off, as I have another errand to do. I have brought more of those little zephyr worsted shirts, four pair of socks, and two or three mats--lamp mats," said May, unfolding her bundle.
"Bless me, dear child! you are making a fortune. I have sold all that you left with me two weeks ago; and after deducting my commission, here is a half eagle for you."
"All sold!" exclaimed May, joyfully.
"Every one, and more ordered. The way was this. Two fine ladies, who both have infants, came in one day, and both wanted the things; but both couldn't have them, and neither would purchase a part; so at last one offered two dollars more than the other, and got them," said Mrs. Tabb, deliberately taking a pinch of snuff.
"Oh, Mrs. Tabb! dear me, it was more than they were worth."
"Not to her, my child. She would have given ten dollars rather than not get them; and she's so rich she don't know what to do with her money. So these will just do for Mrs. Osmond, who, I expect, will call this very day for them.
"I do not feel quite satisfied," said May; "but as it was all voluntary on her part, I suppose there's nothing very wrong in it."
"Bless you--no. She paid the value of the things, then paid for her pride and ostentation, which is the way with all worldly people, and which, thank God, I am not responsible for."
"Thank you, dear Mrs. Tabb; you are very kind to take so much trouble for me. I must run away now. I shall knit up all my worsted this week, so please have another package ready for me when I come again. Good by."
"Good by, Miss May. I declare, if you don't hop about through the snow like a robin; there--she's gone. Now, I should like to know what business old Stillinghast's niece has to be doing such work as this,--the nipping old miser; and I'd like to know what she does with the money."
And so should we; therefore, we will leave Mrs. Tabb to her cogitations, follow May, and find out.
CHAPTER IV.
AUNT MABEL.
Fearing she would not have time to accomplish all that she desired, May stepped into a jewelry establishment to ascertain the hour; but it was only half-past twelve, and, with a light heart and fleet step, she treaded her way through the hurrying and busy crowds, crossed B---- Street, then in the height of its din, uproar, and traffic, and soon found herself among the dark, narrow thoroughfares, and large gloomy warehouses of the lower part of the city. Turning a corner, she looked up and down, but finding herself at fault, hurried into another street, where she encountered quite a procession of merchants, old, young, and middle-aged, on their way to the Exchange, to learn the latest European news, which a steamer, just arrived, had brought in. Many passed her with a glance of surprise; some laughed, and gazed into her face with looks of insolent curiosity: while others regarded her with unconcern and indifference. "It is strange," thought May, shrinking back into a doorway, "I was so sure of the way; but it will never do to stand here, yet how am I to get on? Sir," she said to a benevolent-looking old gentleman, whose white hairs and respectable appearance were a guarantee of protection to her, "will you be so obliging as to direct me to the wood-yard of Carter & Co. I believe I have lost my way."
"Certainly, my dear," said the old man, with a pleasant smile; "I am on my way to the Exchange, and shall be obliged to go right by it, so if you will walk by my side, or take my arm, I will leave you at their office door."
"Thank you," replied May, as with a feeling of safety she laid her little hand on the fatherly arm, so kindly offered. Some ten minutes' walk brought them to the office of Carter & Co., and while May stood an instant, with her veil lifted, to thank her conductor, she saw a face approaching through the crowd--then lost, then visible again, which blanched her cheeks by its sudden appearance. The cold, stern eyes were turned another way, yet she felt that they had recognized her; but it passed on, without seeming to notice her.