The Guinea Stamp Part 15

Gladys sighed, and her face became pale and weary-looking. Never had life appeared so hard, so full of pain and care. Looking at the face of Walter, which she had always thought so n.o.ble and so good,--the index to a soul striving, though sometimes but feebly, yet striving always after what was highest and best,--looking at his face then, and seeing it so shadowed by the bitterness of his lot, her own simple faith for the moment seemed to fail.

'You saw him, then, this morning, and I hope you admired him,' said Walter, with harsh scorn. 'Reeking with drink, speaking thick through it at ten o'clock in the morning! What chance has a fellow with a father like that? Ten to one, I go over to drink myself one of these days.

Well, I might do worse. It drowns care, they say, and I know it destroys feelings, which, from my experience, seem only given for our torture.'

Gladys gave a sob, and turned aside to the safe. That sound recalled Walter to himself, and in a moment his mood changed. His eyes melted into tenderness as he looked upon the pale, slight girl, whom his words in some sad way had wounded.

'Forgive me. I don't know what I am saying; but I had no right to vex you, the only angel I know in this whole city of Glasgow.'

His extravagant speech provoked a smile on her face, and she turned her head from where she knelt before the safe, and lifted her large earnest eyes to his.

'How you talk! You must learn to control yourself a little more. It is self-control that makes a man,' she said quietly. 'I do not know how to comfort you, Walter, in this trouble, which seems so much heavier than even I think; but in the end it will be for good. Everything is, you know, to them that love G.o.d.'

She was so familiar with Scripture, and depended so entirely on it for comfort and strength, that her words carried conviction with them. They fell on the riven heart of Walter like balm, and restored a measure of peace to it. Before he could make any answer, a quick knocking, and the uplifting of the feeble voice from below, indicated that the old man was impatient of the girl's delay. She hastily lifted the pocket-book, relocked the safe door, and, with a nod to Walter, ran down-stairs.

'What kept you so long chattering up-stairs?' queried the old man, with all the peevishness of a sick person. 'You don't care a penny-piece, either of you, though I died this very moment.'

'Oh, Uncle Abel, hold your tongue; you know that is not true,' she said quickly. 'Walter is in great trouble this morning. Something has happened to his sister.'

'Ay, what is it, eh?'

'I don't know exactly, but she has left home.'

'Ay, ay, I'm not surprised; she was a bold hussy, and had no respect for anything in this world. And is Walter taking on badly?'

'Very badly. I never saw him so distressed.'

'Well, it's hard on a chap trying to do well. It's a hopeless case trying to fly out of an ill nest.'

'Uncle Abel, you must not say that. Nothing is hopeless, if only we are on the right side,' said Gladys stoutly, though inwardly her heart re-echoed sadly that dark creed.

'Well, well, you're young, and nothing seems impossible,' he said good-naturedly. 'Here, take off this string. My fingers are as f.e.c.kless as a thread.'

Gladys opened the pocket-book, which was stuffed full of old papers. The old man fingered them lovingly and with careful touch, until he found the one he sought. It was a somewhat long doc.u.ment, written on blue, official-looking paper, and attested by several seals. He read it from beginning to end with close attention, and gave a grunt of satisfaction when he laid it down.

'Is Wat busy?' he asked then.

'He has not much heart for his work to-day, uncle,'

'Cry him down; I've a message for him. Or, stop, you'd better go yourself, in case anybody comes to the warehouse. Do you know St.

Vincent Street?'

'Yes, uncle.'

'You don't know Fordyce & Fordyce, the lawyers' office, do you?'

'No, but I can find it.'

'Very well; go just now and ask for old Mr. Fordyce. If he isn't in, just come back.'

'And what am I to say to him?'

'Tell him to come here just as soon as ever he can. I want to see him, and there is not any time to lose.'

The girl's lip quivered. A strange feeling of approaching desolation was with her, and her outlook was of the dreariest. If it were true, as the old man evidently believed, that his hour had come, she would again be friendless and solitary on the face of the earth. Abel Graham saw these signs of grief, and a curious softness visited his heart, though he could scarce believe one so fair and sweet could really care for him.

Gladys made the utmost haste to do her errand, and to her great satisfaction was told when she reached the large and well-appointed chambers of that influential firm, that Mr. Fordyce senior would attend to her in a moment. She stood in the outer office waiting, unconscious that she was the subject of remark and speculation among the clerks at their desks, still more unconscious that one day her name would be as familiar and respected among them as that of the governor himself. After the lapse of a few minutes the office boy ushered her into the private room of Mr. Fordyce senior. He was a fine, benevolent-looking, elderly gentleman, with a rosy, happy face, silver hair and whiskers, and a keen but kindly blue eye. He appeared to be a very grand gentleman indeed in the eyes of Gladys.

'Well, my dear miss, what can I do for you, eh?' he asked, beaming at her over the gold rims of his double eyegla.s.s in a very rea.s.suring way.

'Please, my uncle has sent me to ask you to come and see him at once, as he is very ill.'

'And who is your uncle, my dear? It will be necessary for you to tell me that,' he said, with the slightest suggestion of a twinkle in his eye.

'My uncle, Mr. Graham, who lives in Colquhoun Street.'

'Abel Graham? Oh yes. Is he ill? And, bless me, are _you_ his niece?'

Never was surprise so genuinely felt or expressed as at that moment by Mr. Fordyce.

'Yes, I am his niece; and, please, could you come as soon as possible?

He is very ill. I am afraid he thinks he is dying.'

The girl's voice trembled, and a tear fell like a dew-drop from her long eyelashes. These things still more amazed the soul of Mr. Fordyce. That anybody should shed a tear for a being so sordid and unsociable as Abel Graham struck him as one of the extraordinary things he had met with in his career; and to see this fair young creature, fitted by nature for a sphere and for companionship so different, sincerely grieving for the old man's distress, seemed the most extraordinary thing of all. Mr.

Fordyce rose, and, calling the boy, bade him bring a cab to the door, then he began to get into his greatcoat.

'I'll drive you back, if you have nowhere else to go. So _you_ are his niece? Well, there's more sense and shrewdness in the old man than I gave him credit for.'

These remarks were, of course, quite enigmatical to Gladys; but she felt cheered and comforted by the strong, kindly presence of the genial old lawyer. As for him, he regarded her with a mixture of lively interest, real compa.s.sion, and profound surprise. Perhaps the latter predominated.

He had, in the course of a long professional career, encountered many strange experiences, become familiar with many curious and tragic life stories, but, he told himself, he had never met a more interesting case than this.

'It's a romance,' he said loud out in the cab; and Gladys looked at him in mild surprise, but though she did not stand in awe of him at all, she did not presume to ask what he meant.

'Now tell me, my dear, have you been happy in this--this place?' he inquired significantly, as the cab rumbled over the rough causeway of the Wynd into Colquhoun Street.

'Yes, I have been happy. I only know now, when I think it may not be my shelter very long.'

Mr. Fordyce looked at her keenly.

'Poor girl, she knows nothing, absolutely nothing,' he said to himself.

'What a revelation it will be to her! Yes, it's a thrilling romance.'

The greeting between the well-known lawyer and his strange client was not ceremonious. It consisted of a couple of nods and a brief good-morning. Then Gladys was requested to leave them alone. Nothing loath, she ran up-stairs to Walter, whose sorrow lay heavy on her heart.

'Your niece has surprised me, Mr. Graham,' said the lawyer. 'Yes, very much indeed.'

'Why? What did you expect to see? Eh?'

'Not a refined and lovely young woman in a place like this, certainly,'