“I am very sorry, ma’am; but I have no one that can vouch for me—except, indeed, Mrs. Slater, of the High School, would say a word in my favor.”
“Well, well!” answered Mrs. Macintosh, “I am so far pleased with you that I do not think I can be making a great mistake if I merely give you a trial. You may come tonight, if you like—that is, with your mother’s permission.”
Annie ran home greatly relieved, and told her mother what a piece of good-fortune she had had. Mrs. Melville did not at all take to the idea at first, for she cherished undefined expections for Annie, and knew that her father had done so also, for the girl was always reading, and had been for years in the habit of reading aloud to him, making now and then a remark that showed she understood well what she read. So the mother took comfort in her disappointment that her child had, solely for her sake, she supposed, betaken herself to such service as would at once secure her livelihood and bring her in a little money, for, with the shadow of coming want growing black above them, even her first half-year’s wages was a point of hope and expectation.
“Well, Annie,” she answered, after a few moments’ consideration, “it is but for a time; and you will be able to give up the place as soon as you please, and the easier that she only takes you on trial; that will hold for you as well as for her.”
But nothing was farther from Annie’s intention than finding the place would not suit her: no change could she dream of before at least she had a pound-note in her hand, when at once she would make it clear to her mother what a terrible scare had driven her to the sudden step she had taken. Until then she must go about with her whole head sick and her whole heart faint; neither could she for many weeks rid herself of the haunting notion that the banker, who was chiefly affected by her