Part 23 (1/2)
”Oh no; don't remind him of it. I see him every day, and he can ask me if he chooses.”
But Salome was not to be satisfied. ”As I promised to do something about it by Christmas, I must tell him how it is.”
”How what is?”
”Why, Raymond, I thought, I hoped I might get something for some work I did, and then I could have paid Mr. Percival half perhaps.”
”Work! what sort of work?”
”Oh, you must not ask. I will tell you some day perhaps.”
”Don't bother yourself, Sal. Percival can wait. He is all right now with me, and I think he is a good fellow after all. I want awfully to get to St. Clair's for Christmas. He has asked me, which is awfully kind of him. You remember he was the fellow who travelled with us on that wretched journey.”
”Yes, I remember; but I don't think you can go, Raymond. It is such a long journey for two days.”
”I shall ask for an extra day. Old Warde is very civil to me now. It is better to keep up with friends worth having, like St. Clair. Mother thinks so.”
Salome was silent. She thought it wiser to say nothing.
There was a bright service in St. Luke's Church every Wednesday evening; and on the Wednesday before Christmas, as Salome was coming out of the church, scarcely two hundred yards from Elm Cottage, she heard a voice near her say,--
”Miss Wilton.”
She started, and turning quickly, said,--
”I wanted to see you, Mr. Percival. I cannot do what I promised, and I--I hardly like to ask it, but _could_ you wait till Easter?”
”Yes,” was the reply. ”I can and will wait. I came here on purpose to say so.”
”How kind of you! Mr. Percival, is--do you think my brother is getting on better at the office?”
”I hope so,” was the answer.
”He is there in better time of a morning, isn't he?” asked Salome anxiously.
Again the answer came guardedly,--
”I think so.”
”Mother has been so ill lately, and quite confined to her room. Raymond has been much more attentive to her lately.”
”I am very glad to hear it. I hope you will be at rest about the money.
Good-night.”
Then he was gone. And Salome ran quickly across the road to the gate of Elm Cottage, saying to herself, ”Surely Taylor and Darte will take my story, they are so long in replying, and that is a good sign. Bardsley and Carrow were only a week. Oh, perhaps by Easter it will be all right, and I shall be able to repay Mr. Percival. How kind he is! I do like him.”
CHAPTER XIV.
DAFFODILS.