“I have something to tell you, Ona,” remarked Mr. Sylvester shortly after this, as the music being over, they all sat down for a final chat about the fireside. “I have received notice that the directors of the Madison Bank have this day elected me their president. I thought you might like to know it tonight.”
“It is a very gratifying piece of news certainly. President of the Madison Bank sounds very well, does it not, Paula?”
The young girl with her soul yet ringing with the grand and solemn harmonies of Mendelssohn and Chopin, turned at this with her brightest smile. “It certainly does and a little awe-inspiring too;” she added with her arch glance.
“Your congratulations are also requested for our new assistant cashier. Arise, Bertram, and greet the ladies.”
With a blush his young nephew arose to his feet.
“What! are you going into the banking business?” queried Mrs. Sylvester. “ Mr. Turner will be more shocked than ever: he chooses to say that bankers, merchants and such are the solid rock of his church, while the lighter fry such as artists, musicians, and let us hope he includes us ladies, are its minarets, and steeples. Now to make a foundation out of a steeple will quite overturn his methodical mind I fear.”
Mr. Sylvester looked genially at his wife; she was not accustomed to attempt the facetious; but Paula seemed to have the power of bringing out unexpected lights and shadows from all with whom she came in contact.
“A clergyman who rears his church on the basis of wealth must expect some overturning now and then,” laughed he.
“If by means of it he turns a fresh side to the sun, it will do him no harm,” chimed in Paula.