“The Tolliver place?”
“Yes, he is going to buy it.”
Miss Smith dismissed the boy absently and sat down. The crisis seemed drawing near. She had not dreamed the Tolliver place was for sale. The old man must be hard pressed to sell to the Cresswells.
She started up. Why not go see him? Perhaps a mortgage on the strength of the endowment? It was dangerous‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut‚ÅÝ‚Äî
She threw a veil over her hair, and opened the door. A woman stood there, who shrank and cowered, as if used to blows. Miss Smith eyed her grimly, then slowly stepped back.
“Come in,” she commanded briefly, motioning the woman to a chair.
But she stood, a pathetic figure, faded, worn, yet with unmistakable traces of beauty in her golden face and soft brown hair. Miss Smith contemplated her sadly. Here was her most haunting failure, this girl whom she first had seen twelve years ago in her wonderful girlish comeliness. She had struggled and fought for her, but the forces of the devil had triumphed. She caught glimpses of her now and then, but today was the first time she had spoken to her for ten years. She saw the tears that gathered but did not fall; then her hands quivered.
“Bertie,” she began brokenly. The girl shivered, but stood aloof.
‚ÄúMiss Smith,‚Äù she said. ‚ÄúNo‚ÅÝ‚Äîdon‚Äôt talk‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI‚Äôm bad‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut I‚Äôve got a little girl, Miss Smith, ten years old, and‚ÅÝ‚Äîand‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI‚Äôm afraid for her; I want you to take her.‚Äù
“I have no place for one so young. And why are you afraid for her?”
“The men there are beginning to notice her.”