Part 9 (2/2)

”What do you say you've lost?”

”Oh, my purse, Reginald! what _shall_ I do?” and Salome wildly turned out a drawer in the room which she was to share with Ada, and left it in dire confusion.

”Dear me, Miss Salome, pray don't make work like that,” said Stevens. ”I do wish you would learn to take care of your own things at least. You never was fit to look after money.”

Salome was in despair, when Reginald came out of his mother's room holding the lost purse on high.

”O Reginald, where did you find it? You might have told me before. It was a shame. Where _did_ you find it?”

”Under the table in the dining-room last evening,” and he tossed the purse to her, saying, ”It's not very heavy. But you _should_ be careful, Salome; you are awfully careless.”

”Don't be rude, Reginald; it's not for you to take me to task. Mind your own business, please.”

”Hallo! there's a carriage. It's Uncle Loftus; yes, that it is,”

exclaimed Reginald. ”He has not hurried himself to look after us, I must say.”

Salome felt a nervous fear of her uncle, and stood irresolute at the top of the narrow stairs.

”Come down with me, Reginald,” she said; ”do come.”

”Oh no, you'll get on better alone,” Reginald said; ”and Raymond is downstairs.”

”The doctor, Miss Wilton,” said Mrs. Pryor, in a tone which seemed to imply that some one was very ill. ”The doctor,” she repeated, looking up from the narrow hall at Salome.

Salome went down slowly, and her heart beat so loud she could almost hear it. Her Uncle Loftus brought back the memory of her father so vividly. He resembled him, as brothers do often resemble each other--a family likeness, which starts out always more forcibly when one of that family is gone.

”Well, my dear child,” Dr. Wilton said, advancing to Salome when at last she opened the door, ”how are you getting on? You are quite comfortable here, I hope. It really looks very nice and home-like. It was the best we could do for you. I heard from your mother yesterday, and she says she is coming this afternoon with the children and--and--” (Dr. Wilton could not fit the sister with a name) ”your sister. I will try to meet your mother, and bring her up in the carriage. I have to be at the hospital in Harstone at four o'clock, and I think I can just manage to get to the Elm Fields Station at five. The boys must meet the train too, and they and the children and the luggage can come up in the omnibus.”

”Thank you, Uncle Loftus,” Salome said gently. ”I am very glad mamma should drive up in the carriage.”

”What a quiet, demure little thing she is,” thought Dr. Wilton. ”Where are your brothers?” he asked.

”I thought Raymond was here,” Salome said, rising as if to call him.

”No; do not call him now. I wanted to tell you that I have, I hope, succeeded in getting him into a merchant's office in Harstone. It really is a most difficult thing to provide for boys in these days, as I shall find. All professions need so much outlay to begin with--articles for the law, and so on. But Mr. Warde, out of respect to your poor father's memory, says he will take your brother on, at a nominal salary of twenty pounds, just to keep him in clothes; and considering the calamity at Fairchester, I think it is better the boy should start clear here.

Reginald must have another year at school, I suppose, and I will speak to Dr. Stracey about it. The term does not begin till the middle of September. The little boys you and Ada can manage between you, I daresay.”

”Oh yes,” Salome said; ”I can do their lessons at present.”

”That's right. You know your poor father's affairs are in such a fearful mess that it is impossible to tell yet how things stand. The liquidation of the Central Bank will go on for years. A heavy overdraft there is the ugliest part of the matter.”

”An overdraft!” poor Salome exclaimed; ”I don't understand!”

”No, my dear, you can't understand, I daresay. But, as I told you, your poor mother's income is secure, and on that you must all make up your minds to live till better times. It is just three hundred a year.”

Three hundred a year conveyed a very hazy idea to Salome.

”How much had we a year at Maplestone, Uncle Loftus?”

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