"I ain't comin', mammy," declared her charge, positively.

"Yes, you is comin', honey; don' you talk to mammy dat way. 'Tisn't pretty. Looks like it's mighty hard to raise you polite, James Mandeville."

Norah delighted to talk with her, and gathered from her conversation that her greatest pleasure, next to a funeral, was to take James Mandeville to white folks' church on Sunday afternoon, "to see dem chillen march and sing." To her enthusiasm was due the aspiration of her charge to be a choir boy, and he was often heard singing l.u.s.tily versions of "Onward, Christian Soldiers," and "O Paradise," which were all his own.

"Dey's ladies, store or no store," Belle was overheard remarking to Susanna. "I knows quality; you can't fool Belle, no'm."

"I never in my life felt so rich," Marion said, rattling the money drawer.

It was Sat.u.r.day evening at the end of their first week. All was in order in the shop, the long table pushed back, the small one with the lamp brought forward, the shades drawn, the door barred, and Norah now rested comfortably in one of the roomy chairs with a gay pillow behind her head.

"We have done very well, I think," she agreed.

"I perceive this is one subject upon which my enthusiasm is greater than yours. It must be because you have made money before." Marion still hung over the money drawer.

"I don't consider that we have made anything yet; but the difference between us is that I expected all along to do very well, while you were a doubting Thomas."

"As I always am." With surprising ease for one so tall, Marion slipped down on the rug at her friend's feet.

Norah caressed the dark head against her knee. "But you are improving, dearest," she said, "and I'm glad, indeed, if this first week has encouraged you." She laughed a little as she added, "I believe I am just a bit more anxious to prove to our friend Miss Carpenter that in lending us the capital for our venture she has not done a reckless and unwise thing."

"But, Norah--"

"I know what you are going to say. She is not worrying about the money and could well afford to take the risk, but with you and me it is a matter of principle. We must succeed and justify her confidence. So we won't count our chickens too soon, but lay low, like Brer Rabbit, and say nothin'."

"At any rate I know what it is to have worked all the week, and to be tired and glad of Sunday. Norah, it is nonsense expecting people really to care for Sunday when they don't work."

"I hope you haven't tired yourself too much;" Norah bent forward till she could see the face on her knee. Her manner was oddly motherly; she seemed so much the younger and smaller of the two.

"Oh, no; and sometimes I have almost forgotten--"

"Go on forgetting, dear. I know you need not fear, if you will only think so."

"If I were only sure," Marion sighed. "And sometimes I am," she added.

"At least I am charmed with the neighborhood," Norah went on, "If the haughty lady across the street continues her opposition, our success is a.s.sured. Her name, I have discovered, is Millard, and that dear Miss Virginia is her sister, of course; and there is a bright-looking little girl who goes in and out, and seems to belong to them.

"And I forgot to tell you my adventure this morning. When I got off the car at Walnut Street, coming home, there was an old gentleman with some books just behind me. He had an armful, and as he stepped to the ground they slipped and fell in the dust. He was evidently lame and stiff with rheumatism, so I picked them up for him. He was a beautiful old man, with a most courtly manner; and he seemed to think as I had helped him, I was ent.i.tled to know about the books. We walked along together, and he explained they were some he had found at a second-hand store. One of them was a first edition of the 'Essays of Elia' which he thought a tremendous bargain; and it was, I'm sure.

"We fell to discussing books, and he seemed delighted to find I was not absolutely ignorant and ended by inviting me in to see his library. He lives in the house that needs paint so badly,--where you have noticed that beautiful Ginkgo tree."

"Did you accept his invitation?"

"No, I told him I had not time just then. He asked if I lived near; and, Marion, you should have seen his puzzled look when I said, 'On the corner of Pleasant Street.' 'You are visiting?--the Wilburs, perhaps.' he said. 'No,' I answered, 'I am one of the proprietors of the shop.' He was terribly shocked and disappointed, I could see. I had really made an impression. He grew a little distant, but was still charming, thanking me again for my kindness; however, he said no more about the library."

"It is funny--" began Marion, but she did not finish her sentence, and they sat in silence for a while. Presently Marion took possession of the hand that was touching her hair so lightly, and laid her cheek against it. Not many people, she thought, had such a friend. One who had been everything in a time of need, who had given her new hope and courage in an hour of darkness. She felt herself unworthy, because she did not believe she could ever be such a help to any one.

"Do you remember, when you were a child, Norah, how sometimes when you had found some delightful game that stirred your imagination, you would go to sleep at night with the most blissful sense of waking up to go on with it in the morning? I have had much the same feeling lately."

"Then I am satisfied about you. 'As little children' is the key to the best things of life, I firmly believe. Let's read a bit of 'The Golden Age' before we go to bed," said Norah.

CHAPTER TENTH

ALEXINA

Alexina Russell longed to be of use in the world. It fretted her to live as they did, pensioners on her grandfather, whose fortune had sadly dwindled of late years. Her mother's income was barely sufficient to clothe the three of them, and Alex felt she ought to be earning her own living. That her grandfather made them more than welcome, and besides had an old-fashioned horror of a woman going out into the world as a worker, did not alter her conviction.

She did not feel competent to teach. Delicate as a child, she had gone to school intermittently, and the best of her somewhat sc.r.a.ppy education had been gained in her grandfather's library; but she found it difficult to combat the prejudice of the whole family against any other method of supporting herself. Alex loved the old house,--the outside of which time and coal-dust had turned a uniform dingy gray,--and sometimes wondered how she could ever stand it to live anywhere else. There is a point where dinginess becomes picturesque; and the vines, undisturbed by repairs, were doing their best to hide all deficiencies. The grounds were ample for a city; and the tall Ginkgo tree which reached out its fern-like branches protectingly toward the timeworn mansion was only one of many other fine trees and shrubs. Inside, the lofty rooms and handsome furnishings of many years ago, some fine old portraits, and many valuable books and prints gave it a distinction not to be achieved by many modern houses.

Pretty Mrs. Russell, almost as dainty and girlish as her youngest daughter, shed tears over Alex's oddity; and Alex, who sincerely loved and admired her mother, felt her burden all the greater because she was a disappointment. She had submitted for one winter to be taken to receptions and teas, and to have a dinner given in her honor, in the newspaper accounts of which the rare old Russell silver figured effectively, and on the whole she had enjoyed it. But a season of it was enough; her practical mind rebelled against the expense and uselessness of such a life. She adopted the plainest style of dress, declined invitations, and privately studied shorthand.

In the bottom of her heart Madelaine thought it just as well. Plain things became Alex, and it was n.o.body's fault but her own if she preferred the background. And Alex was not in the least jealous of her sister's popularity. She had something of the responsible feelings of a father or brother toward her mother and Madelaine.

Alex's refuge was the library and the companionship of her grandfather, who often told her she took life too seriously.

"You are young yet. Be happy, and things will work out of themselves."

But Alexina did not share his gentle optimism. It seemed to her at once the charm and weakness of her grandfather's character. She was impatient; she wanted to know what was the right path for her to take, not to waste years in finding it.

Mrs. Russell sometimes laughingly declared that Alex's most intimate friends were Miss Virginia Wilbur and Miss Sarah Leigh, and it was true she often sought their society. Miss Wilbur had made pets of the Russell children from their babyhood, and they were both fond of her.

There were times when Alex found her placid absorption in everyday matters rather soothing, at others Miss Sarah suited her mood better.

Miss Sarah had all manner of troubles and worries, but she did not box them up and label them "Personal"; instead, she offered them to her friends dressed up in whimsical fashion for their entertainment, until it was difficult to consider them seriously. Old Mrs. Leigh was heard to say she did not know what Sarah would find to laugh about if she ever became prosperous.

Alexina found shorthand depressing, and after spending an hour or more over it one afternoon she gave it up in despair and went over to see Miss Sarah. As she entered the sitting room Mrs. Millard stood talking to Mrs. Leigh.

"I suppose the next thing we'll be going to the Poor House," the old lady was remarking cheerfully, for she was not far behind her niece in the ability to extract pleasure from adversity. "Sarah says the Cement Company has pa.s.sed their dividend again. I know that means we don't get any money."

"Dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Millard; "why, Sarah, what are you living on?"

The person addressed looked up from her sewing with a grim smile. "I don't know--Caroline. We--are just living--_on_."

"I don't see how you can _smile_," said Mrs. Millard, with reproachful emphasis. She was never guilty of making light of affliction.

"Well, there are funny things about being poor, Caroline; but I suppose it takes a poor person to appreciate them." Then observing Alex in the door, Miss Sarah added, "Come in and cheer us up, Alex."

"I am ashamed to say I came to be cheered," Alex said, after Mrs.

Millard had rustled away.

"Well, misery loves company, so just come to the kitchen with me while I stir up a spice cake for Wayland, and we'll swap woes and have a good time. I let Anne go to see her sister this afternoon."

When the materials had been collected and Alex a.s.signed her share of the task, Miss Sarah continued: "I have two things to tell you. First, I have made up my mind to take boarders. I was trembling in my shoes all the while Caroline was here, for fear Aunt Sally would tell her.

She will think it a disgrace to the neighborhood; I'll be ranked with the shop, but I must do something. We can't sell the house, and it would break Aunt Sally's heart if we could, for it is all she has."