The Guinea Stamp | Page 6

me exactly how matters
stand. How much money have you?'

The colour mounted high to the girl's white brow, and her proud mouth
quivered. Never had she so felt the degradation of her poverty! Now it
seemed more than she could bear. But she looked straight into her
uncle's unlovely countenance, and made answer, with a calmness which
surprised herself,--
'There is no money, none at all--not even enough to pay all that must be
paid.'
Abel Graham almost gasped.
'All that must be paid! And, in Heaven's name, how much is that? Try
to be practical and clear-headed, and remember I am a poor man,
though willing to do my duty.'
'Mr. Courtney and I talked of it this morning, when we arranged that
the funeral should be to-morrow,' Gladys answered in a calm, straight,
even voice, 'and we thought that there might be five pounds to pay
when all was over. Papa has some pictures at the dealers'--two in
Boston, and three, I think, in London. Perhaps there might be enough
from these to pay.'
'You have the addresses of these dealers, I hope?' said the old man,
with undisguised eagerness.
'Yes, I have the addresses.'
'Well, I shall apply to them, and put on the screw, if possible. Will you
tell me, if you please, how long you have lived in this place?'
'Oh, not long,--in this village, I mean,--only since summer. We have
been all over the fens, I think; but we have liked this place most of all.'
'Heathens, wandering Jews, vagabonds on the face of the earth,' said the
old man to himself. 'So you have arranged that it will be
to-morrow--you and the parson? I hope he understands that he can get
nothing for his pains?'

'I don't know what you are talking about,' said Gladys, and her mouth
grew very stern--her whole face during the last hour seemed to have
taken on the stamp and seal of age.
'And what hour have you arranged it for?'
'Eleven, I think--yes, eleven,' answered Gladys, and gave a quick,
sobbing breath, which the old man elected not to notice.
'Eleven?' He said it over slowly, and took a penny time-table from his
pocket, and studied it thoughtfully. 'We can get away from Boston at
one. It's the worst kind of place this to get at, and I don't know why on
earth your father should have chosen it'--'to die in,' he had almost added;
but he restrained these words. 'We can't get to Glasgow before midnight,
I think. I hope you won't object to travelling in the night-time? I must
do it. I can't be away any longer from business; it must be attended to. I
hope you can be ready?'
'I don't mind it at all,' answered Gladys in a still, quiet voice. Her heart
cried out against her unhappy destiny; but one so desolate, so helpless
and forlorn, may not choose. 'Yes, I shall be ready.'
'Well, see that you are. Punctuality is a virtue--one not commonly
found, I am told, in your sex. You will remember, then, Mary, that I am
a very poor man, struggling to get the necessaries of life. You have no
false and extravagant ideas of life, I hope? Your father, surely, has
taught you that it is a desperate struggle, in which men trample each
other remorselessly under foot. Heaven knows he has had experience of
it, so far as I can hear and see.'
'He never told me anything, Uncle Abel. We were happy always, he
and I together, because we loved each other. But I know that life is
always hard, and that the good suffer most,' said Gladys simply.
A strange and unwonted thrill touched the selfish heart of the old man
at these words, as they fell gravely from the young lips, formed in their
perfect sweetness for the happy curves of joy and hope.

'Well, well, if these are your views, you are less likely to be
disappointed,' he said, in gruff haste. 'Well, to go on. I am a poor man,
and I have a poor little home; I hope, when you come to share it, you
will be a help, and not altogether a burden on it?'
'I shall try. I can learn to work. I must learn now,' Gladys answered,
with exemplary meekness.
'There is an old woman who comes to do my little turn of a morning.
There is no reason why now I should not dispense with her services.
She is dear at the money, anyhow. I have often grudged it.'
'I wonder to hear that you are so poor,' said Gladys, looking straight
into his face with her young, fearless eyes. 'Papa told me once that you
were quite rich, and that you had a splendid business.'
Abel Graham