Great Britain -- Juvenile fiction; Love stories; Sisters -- Juvenile fiction
'That is all, I am sorry to say; at least all that you can count upon
with any certainty for the present, for the shares, of which I have been
trying to tell you, at present bring in nothing, and may never do so. Of
course there is the furniture, which might fetch a hundred or two, for
there are two or three valuable pieces; and, besides that, your father
had some nice china and some fine old silver,' observed Mr. Stacey.
'Oh I could not sell that!' said the girl hastily, and her colour rose.
The old lawyer shook his head. 'It is not a case of _could_; it is a
case of _must_, my dear young lady,' he said not unkindly.
'But why? You say there are no debts to pay. Why, then, should we part
with all that is left to us of home?' argued the girl, the tears coming
into her eyes.
'Why? Because you must live, you and Vava, and I don't quite see how you
are to do that on fifty pounds a year--twenty-five pounds apiece--even
if we get your sister into a school where they would take her on
half-terms as a kind of pupil-teacher,' explained the lawyer patiently.
'Send Vava to a school as a pupil-teacher, to be looked down upon and
despised by the other girls who were richer than she, to waste half her
time in teaching, and let her go away from me? I could not do it!' cried
the girl impulsively. Then, as she saw the old man, who had been a
lifelong friend of her father's as well as his lawyer, shrug his
shoulders, as much as to say she was hopeless, she added more quietly,
'We have never been parted in our lives, Mr. Stacey, and we are sad
enough as it is,' and her lips quivered. 'She would be so lonely without
me, and I without her; and surely it is as cheap for two to live
together as one? Besides, I am going to earn money; I was my father's
secretary for three years, and he always said I was a very good one. I
can typewrite quite quickly; I have typewritten all his letters for him
for the last three years and copied all his manuscripts, and I scarcely
ever made a mistake.'
Her listener looked doubtful for a moment; but now that she had some
practical suggestion to make, the interview began to take a more
business-like appearance, and the old man was ready to listen to her.
'Yes,' he said, 'your father often told me that you were better than any
trained secretary he ever had, and I have no doubt your three years'
experience has been useful to you; but unfortunately there is no one
here who happens to want a secretary'----
Before he could get any further, Stella Wharton interrupted eagerly,
'But we do not think of staying here, and I have thought the whole
matter over. I knew I should have to earn my own living, and of course
the proper place to do that is in London.'
Mr. Stacey's look of consternation would have been amusing if he had not
been so serious. 'You and Vava go and live in London alone! The thing is
impossible!'
'Why impossible?' asked Stella quietly. 'Hundreds and thousands of girls
do it who are not even as old as I am.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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