The Guinea Stamp: A Tale of Modern GlasgowSwan, Annie S.
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The Guinea Stamp: A Tale of Modern Glasgow
Swan, Annie S.
Glasgow (Scotland) -- Fiction
'Scarcely. They've been companions--in misfortune, I had almost
said--for a long time, and it is natural that they should feel kindly
towards each other. Miss Bourhill Graham must needs aim a little higher.
I like the young fellow, however. There's an honesty of purpose and a
fearless individuality about him which refreshes one. Odd, isn't it, to
find two such gems in such a place?'
'Rather; but I don't agree with all you say,' replied the minister, 'and
I'll watch with interest the development of Miss Graham's history. If
that determined-looking youth doesn't have a hand in it, I've made a
huge mistake, that's all.'
Mr. Fordyce had made his plans for the day, and arranged with his wife
to bring the carriage to Colquhoun Street at five o'clock. Gladys had
been made acquainted with this arrangement, and acquiesced in it. It was
about four o'clock when they returned to the empty house, which looked
more cheerless than usual after the beauty and freshness of the country.
'Now, my dear,' said the lawyer, 'we must have a little talk before Mrs.
Fordyce comes. I have a great deal to say to you. You remember you would
not allow me to speak to you about business affairs until all was over?'
'Yes,' answered Gladys, and seated herself obediently, but without
betraying the slightest interest or anticipation.
'I shall be as brief and simple as possible,' he continued. 'I told you
that you need have no anxiety about your future, that it was assured by
your uncle's will. You were not aware, I suppose, that he died a rich
man?'
'No; I have heard people call him rich, but I never believed it. He
spoke and acted always as if he were very poor.'
'That is the policy of many who have earned money hardly, and are loath
to spend it. Well, it is you who will reap the benefit of his economy.
About six months ago your uncle called upon me at my office for the
first time in connection with the purchase of a small residential estate
in Ayrshire. He wished to buy it, and did so--at a bargain, for there
were few offers for it. That estate was Bourhill, and it was for you it
was bought. You are absolutely its owner to-day.'
'I--owner of Bourhill?' she repeated slowly, and as if she did not
comprehend. 'I owner of Bourhill?'
'Yes, my dear young lady; I congratulate you, not only as mistress of
Bourhill, but also as mistress of what, to you, must seem a large
fortune. Your uncle has left you Bourhill and the sum of ten thousand
pounds.'
She received this announcement in silence, but all the colour left her
face.
'Oh,' she cried at length, in a voice sharp with pain, 'how wrong! how
hard! To live here in such poverty, to be so hard on others, to act a
lie. It was that, Mr. Fordyce. Oh, my poor uncle!'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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