CHAPTER XX.

MRS. GORDON FEELS FAINT, AND KATY ENTERS A NEW SPHERE.

On her arrival at Temple Street, Katy was promptly admitted by Michael,

and shown in the sitting-room, where Mrs. Gordon and Grace were waiting

for her.

"I was very sorry to hear that your mother is sick, Katy," said the

former; "and I should have paid you a visit, instead of sending for

you, if I had not been so much exhausted by my journey from Baltimore."

"You are very kind, ma'am."

"Did Dr. Flynch call upon you at the first of the month?"

"Yes, ma'am; and we paid the rent as usual," replied Katy.

"I am sorry you did so, Katy; you should have told him you were not in

a condition to pay the rent."

"I couldn't tell him so, he is so cold and cruel."

"I think you misjudge him, for he has a really kind heart, and would

not have distressed you for all the world. Besides, I told him he need

not collect your rent any time when you did not feel ready to pay it. I

hope he gave you no trouble?"

"No, ma'am; I didn't give him a chance, for I paid him as soon as he

demanded it; though it took nearly all the money we had. I hope you

will excuse me, ma'am, but I haven't liked him since the trouble we had

a year ago, when he accused my dear mother of telling a lie."

"Perhaps he was hasty."

"I forgive him, ma'am; but I can't help thinking he is a very wicked

man," answered Katy, with considerable emphasis.

"I hope not so bad as that; for I am sure, if you had told him it was

not convenient for you to pay the rent, he would not have insisted. But

you want some assistance Katy?"

"Yes, ma'am; that is, I want to borrow some money," replied Katy,

blushing deeply.

"That's just like you," interposed Grace, laughing. "I suppose you will

want to give your note this time."

"I don't care about giving a note, but I mean to pay the money back

again, every cent of it."

"And the interest too, I suppose?"

"Yes," said Katy, though she had not a very clear idea of the value of

money, as an article of merchandise.

"Don't distress her, Grace; you forget that her mother is very sick,

and she cannot feel like listening to your pleasantries," said Mrs.

Gordon.

"Forgive me, Katy," replied Grace, tenderly.

Katy burst into tears, though she could not exactly tell why. She was

overcome with emotion as the beautiful young lady took her hand, and

looked so sorrowfully in her face. She was not used to so much

kindness, so much sympathy, so much love; for it seemed as though both

Grace and her mother loved her--that their hearts beat with hers.

"Don t cry, Katy; I am sorry I said a word," pleaded Grace. "I would

not have hurt your feelings for all the world."

"You did not hurt my feelings; you are so kind to me that I could not

help crying. I suppose I am very silly."

"No, you are not, Katy; now dry up your tears, and tell us all about

it," added Mrs. Gordon, in soothing tones. "How long has your mother

been sick?"

"Almost two weeks."

"What ails her?"

"She has got a fever; but she is much better to-day. The doctor says

she hasn't got it very bad; but she has been very sick, I think."

"Who takes care of her?"

"I do, ma'am."

"You! She must need a great deal of attention. But who takes care of

her at night?"

"I do, ma'am. I have been up a great deal every night."

"Poor child! It is enough to wear you out."

"I wouldn't mind it at all, if I had nothing else to trouble me."

"What other troubles have you?"

"I can't make any candy now, and haven't made any for nearly a

fortnight; so that we have no money coming in. We spent nearly all we

had in buying our winter clothing and fuel. It worries me very much,

for we had plenty of money before mother was taken sick."

"I hope you haven't wanted for anything."

"No, ma'am; for when my purse was empty, I came up here, only

yesterday, to borrow some of you, if you would please to lend it me."

"Certainly, I will, my child. I am very glad you came."

"Michael would make me tell what I wanted, and then he let me have

three dollars, and offered to let me have as much as I wanted. I didn't

know as you would like it if I borrowed money of your servant."

"You did just right: and I am glad that Michael has a kind heart. Now,

how much money do you want?"

"I thought I would ask you to lend me twenty dollars; and just as soon,

after mother gets well, as I can gather the money together, I will pay

you--and the interest," she added, glancing at Grace.

"Now, Katy, that is too bad!" exclaimed Grace, catching her by the

hand, while a tear started from her eye. "You know I didn't mean that."

"I know you didn't; but I don't know much about such things, and

thought likely it was right for us to pay interest, if we borrowed

money."

"I should be very glad to give you twenty dollars, Katy, if you would

only let me; for I am rich, as well as mother, and I certainly should

not think of taking interest."

"We will say no more about that," interrupted Mrs. Gordon. "I will let

you have the money with the greatest pleasure, for I know you will make

good use of it."

"I will, indeed."

"And you must promise me that you will not distress yourself to pay it

again," continued the kind lady, as she took out her purse.

"I will not distress myself, but I will pay it as soon as I can."

"You must not be too proud."

"No, ma'am; but just proud enough."

"Yes, that's it," replied Mrs. Gordon, smiling. "Pride is a very good

thing in its place. It keeps people from being mean and wicked

sometimes."

"That's true pride," added Katy.

"Yes; for there is a false pride, which makes people very silly and

vain; which keeps them from doing their duty very often. You have none

of this kind of pride."

"I hope not."

"Your friend Simon Sneed, whom the mayor spoke to me about, affords us

a very good example of the folly of cherishing false pride. Where is

Simon now?"

"He keeps a store in Washington Street. He is a salesman now, and I

don't think he is so foolish as he was."

"Perhaps the lesson he learned did him good. But I am keeping you away

from your mother, Katy. Who stays with her while you are away?"

"Mrs. Sneed--Simon's mother."

"Then she is a good woman."

"And Simon is very kind; he has done a great many things for me, and I

hope I shall be able to do something for him one of these days."

"That's right, Katy. Think well of your friends, though others speak

ill of them," said Grace. "Ah, there comes the carriage. I am going

home with you, Katy, to see your mother."

"You are very kind, Miss Grace."

"Here is the money," added Mrs. Gordon, handing her a little roll of

bills.

"Thank you, ma'am," replied Katy, as she placed the money in her

porte-monnaie. "But----"

Here she came to a full stop, and her face was as crimson as a blush

rose, but she took out the silver watch, and approached Mrs. Gordon.

"What were you going to say, Katy?"

"I brought this watch up," stammered she.

"What for?"

"You know I am a poor girl, my mother is a poor woman, and we didn't

want you to think you were giving us the money, for we are very proud;

that is, my mother is very proud, and so am I; and----"

Here Katy drew a long breath, and came to a full stop again, unable to

say what she wanted to say.

"If you want anything else, Katy, don't hesitate to mention it; for I

will not do anything to mortify your pride, even if it is

unreasonable," said Mrs. Gordon. "I understand you perfectly; the

twenty dollars is not a gift, but a loan."

"Yes, ma'am; but if we should never be able to pay it, then it would be

a gift."

"No, it wouldn't."

"I think so; and so I brought this watch, which you will please to take

as security for the payment of the loan," said Katy, much confused, as

she offered the watch to Mrs. Gordon.

"My dear child, I do not want any security. Your word is just as good

as your bond."

"But I would rather you would take it. My mother is prouder than I am,

for she wasn't always as poor as she is now."

Katy suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth, when she recollected

that this was a forbidden topic.

"Some time you may tell me all about your mother; and I will call and

see her to-morrow, and help you take care of her."

"Please to take the watch, ma'am."

"If you very much desire it, I shall do so, though I cannot take it as

security. Is this the watch you carried to the pawnbroker?" said Mrs.

Gordon as she took the treasure.

"Yes, ma'am. It belonged to my father."

Mrs. Gordon turned over the watch, and looked at it with considerable

interest, as she thought of it as a memento of the dead, and how highly

it must be prized by the poor woman.

"Mercy, what's this!" exclaimed she, starting back, and staggering

towards her chair.

"What is the matter, mother?" cried Grace, running to her side. "Are

you ill?"

"No, Grace; that inscription!" replied Mrs. Gordon, faintly, for she

seemed very deeply moved, and on the point of swooning. "Bring me a

glass of water."

There was no water in the room, but Michael was in the entry, and was

dispatched to procure it. He returned in a moment, and when Mrs. Gordon

had in some measure recovered from the sudden shock she pointed to the

inscription on the back of the watch:--

"M. G.

to

J. R.

All for the Best."

"What does, it mean, mother? I do not see anything very strange about

that."

"I have seen this watch before," she replied, stopping to think. "Where

did your mother get this watch, Katy?" she asked, as it occurred to her

that she might be arriving at a conclusion too suddenly.

"It was my father's."

"Where did your father get it? Did you ever hear your mother say?"

"Yes, ma'am; her father, who was a rich Liverpool merchant, gave it to

her husband, my father," replied Katy, who felt justified in revealing

what her mother had told her to keep secret.

"Mercy!" gasped Mrs. Gordon, almost overcome by her emotions.

"What is the matter, mother? What has all this to do with you?" asked

Grace, anxiously.

"Come here, Katy, my child," continued Mrs. Gordon, as she drew the

little candy merchant to her side, and warmly embraced her. "Your

mother, Katy, is my sister, I have scarcely a doubt."

"Why, mother! Is it possible?" exclaimed Grace.

"It is even so. Mrs. Redburn, whose name we have often heard mentioned

without thinking it might be the wife of John Redburn, my father's

clerk, is my sister. I had given her up, and have regarded her as dead

for more than ten years. But, Grace, get my things, and I will go to

her at once."

"Is that your portrait, ma'am?" asked Katy, pointing to the picture of

the mischievous lady.

"No, child; that is your mother's portrait."

"I almost knew it."

"It was taken when she was only sixteen years old. She was a gay, wild

girl then. I suppose she is sadly changed now."

The thought completely overcame Mrs. Gordon, and throwing herself upon

a sofa, she wept like a child. She thought of her sister suffering from

poverty and want, while she had been rolling in opulence and plenty.

Grace tried to comfort her, but it was some time before she was in a

condition to enter the carriage which was waiting at the door.

"What an adventure, mother!" exclaimed Grace, as she seated herself by

the side of Katy; and it was evident she had a vein of the romantic in

her composition.

"Do not talk to me, Grace. My heart is too full for words."

"But I may talk to Katy--may I not?"

"Yes."

"Well, cousin Katy," laughed Grace; "I shall call you cousin, though

you are not really my cousin."

"Not your cousin?" said Katy, a shade of disappointment crossing her

animated features.

"No; for Mrs. Gordon is not really my mother; only my stepmother; but

she is just as good as a real mother, for I never knew any other. Dear

me! how strange all this is! And you will go up and live with us in

Temple Street, and----"

"I can't leave my mother," interrupted Katy.

"You mother shall go, too."

"She is too sick now."

Grace continued to talk as fast as she could, laying out ever so many

plans for the future, till the carriage reached Colvin Court. I will

not follow them into the chamber of the sick woman; where Mrs. Gordon,

by a slow process that did not agitate the invalid too violently,

revealed herself to her sister. The fine lady of Temple Street had a

heart, a warm and true heart, and not that day, nor that night, nor for

a week, did she leave the sick bed of the sufferer. There, in the midst

of her sister's poverty, she did a sister's offices.

It was three weeks before Mrs. Redburn was in a condition to be moved

to her sister's house; and then she was once more in the midst of the

luxury and splendor of her early life. One day, when she had improved

so much as to be able to bear the fatigue of a long conversation, Mrs.

Gordon, who had thus far declined to discuss any exciting topics with

the invalid proposed to have everything explained. Each had a very long

story to tell; but as the reader already knows Mrs. Redburn's history,

I shall only briefly narrate that of Mrs. Gordon and the Guthrie

family, after the departure of the former.

Mr. Guthrie, the father of both, died two years after the flight of

Margaret--Mrs. Redburn--when of course there was a large property to be

divided. Diligent search was made for Margaret in America but her

husband had declared to some person in Liverpool that he had an

engagement in Montreal. This place was thoroughly canvassed, but

without success. No trace of the runaways could be discovered. Agents

were sent to various parts of America, and no tidings of Margaret had

ever reached them.

About two year after her father's death, Jane--Mrs. Gordon--had married

a very wealthy gentleman from Baltimore. He was then a widower with one

child--Grace Gordon. She had come to America with him, and resided in

Baltimore till his death, a period of only two years. Then, having

never liked to live in that city, she had removed to Boston, where she

had a few friends. She had invested her money and resided there, very

happily situated, and with no desire to return to her native land.

Her father's estate had been divided, and the portion which belonged to

Margaret was held in trust for seven years--when the law presumed she

was dead--and was then delivered to her sister, who was the only

remaining heir. Now that she had appeared, it was promptly paid over to

her, and Mrs. Redburn, before poor and proud, was now rich, and

humility never sat more gracefully on the brow of woman than on hers.

Katy and her mother had entered upon a new life, and in the midst of

luxury and splendor, they could not forget the past nor cease to thank

God for His past and present mercies. Mrs. Gordon used to declare it

was strange she had never thought that Mrs. Redburn might be her

sister; but it was declared that stranger things than that had happened.

Katy continued to go to school with great regularity, and became an

excellent scholar. She was beloved by all her companions and Grace, who

was married shortly after Katy entered the family, always regarded her

with the affection of a sister, insisting that she should spend half

the time at her house. Mrs. Redburn was soon completely restored to

health. She had a fortune to manage now, and when Dr. Flynch proposed

to collect her rents and take charge of her affairs, she respectfully

declined the offer. Mrs. Gordon did not like him as well as formerly,

for her sister had opened her eyes in regard to his true character, and

she soon found an opportunity to discharge him.

Having carried Katy through her principal troubles and chronicled the

rise and fall of the candy trade we shall step forward ten years to

take a final look at her and her friends, and then bid them farewell.

Poor and Proud; Or, The Fortunes of Katy Redburn: A Story for Young Folks · 第 20 / 21 章