April Gold (Musaicum Romance Classics). Grace Livingston Hill

Reed was the gracious hostess but wondering all the while why it seemed such a terrible thing to her to have strangers going about her beloved house, peering into every cranny and corner and bringing out infinitesimal flaws.

      It was Thurlow who answered the questions, going around with the men of the party, of whom there were threeMr. Stanwood the donor and two husbands of the club committee. He was grave and courteous and seemed to be much older than he really was.

      Rilla, escaping from her attic just in time before an influx of women mounted to the top of the house, watched her brother with wonder. Thurlow was growing to be a man. She was proud of him as he stood there in the doorway talking to Mr. Stanwood. Oh, to think he had to leave his home and give up his college studies and go into some miserable little minor job, just be an underling all his life, instead of turning out to be the splendid businessman his father had hoped and planned for.

      There was no question about whether they liked the house. They stood in admiring groups and exclaimed and whispered and exclaimed some more. Mr. Stanwood lingered, talking a long time with Thurlow. Then they all went away. But Mr. Stanwood came back within the hour, bringing his lawyer, whom Mr. Reed also had known and trusted, and before three o’clock the money was paid to the building association, satisfying all claims, and the deed was handed over to the new owners.

      Thurlow came back to his mother and sister triumphant.

      “You ought to have been there, Mother. It was a thrill! Our lawyer went with me to make the settlement, and you ought to have seen those foxy men cringe when they saw who was with me. Mr. Stanwood came along. He said he wanted to see the thing through. And the questions he asked them! You should have seen how hard they had to backpedal to get around some of the things they had done. They finally ended up by charging it all on a secretary who had been fired because she got letters mixed and took too much upon herself. They said she had written the letter, and when Mr. Stanwood asked him how he came to sign such a threatening letter after it had been written, he said he had been on his way to a train and hadn’t stopped to read it over. That was that last insolent letter we got. But say, Mother, that Mr. Stanwood is a peach. He even offered to advance the money to settle up the mortgage and let us pay as we liked if we wanted to keep the house. But I knew you wouldn’t think we could do that.” He looked at his mother questioningly and sighed. He was tired, poor fellow. And after all the triumph, they were losing their house and getting nothing in return but a clear conscience and a good name.

      “No! Of course not!” said the mother quickly. “But that was wonderful of him. An entire stranger.”

      “He says he knew Father, or knew of him,” said the son tenderly. “Almost everyone seems to have known Father. Or at least known of him.”

      The mother smiled and a light came into her eyes.

      “You had a good father. Everybody respects a man like your father, even though he was not socially prominent or financially a great success.”

      “Of course!” said the son proudly. “Father was most unusual.”

      “Yes, but it is good to know that there are others, too,” said the mother, “good that all the world are not crooks.”

      “Well, at least we’ll have enough left over from the settlement to move into a decent apartment and pay the rent a couple of months ahead till I can get a good-paying job,” said Thurlow with a sigh of relief. “There were almost two hundred dollars left over when everything was paid.”

      “That’s grand,” said the mother. “But look here, son, just put that idea of an apartment out of your head. We can be thankful for this extra money, of course, but it won’t do much more than move us, and we’ve got to be careful with every cent. You needn’t get any notions about comfortable apartments. We’re not going to try to live in luxury. Not even what you would call comfort or perhaps even decency. We are going to get along with bare necessities, at least for a while, till we can see ahead. And this extra money is going to be a nest egg for possibilities ahead until we are sure of getting our money back from that bankif we ever do. Now, I may as well tell you that I’ve made my plans, and I guess you’ll have to let me manage for a little while yet anyway. It may be a bit hard for you now, but I think it will work out. At least we’re going to try it. Now, come and let us get something to eat, and then I’ll tell you about it.”

      “But, Mother,” said both the young people in dismay. “You mustn’t get that way. We are going to take care of you, you know.”

      “Yes, well, that’s all right, and you’re a pair of dears, but we are going cautiously until the ground gets firmer under our feet again. Now, Rilla, you put the milk and butter and applesauce on the table, and, Thurl, slice the cold meat and cut the bread. I’ll fry the potatoes and make the coffee, and we’ll be ready in no time.”

      Thurlow gave his mother a keen worried look but did her bidding, and in a short time, they sat down to the meal; but they ate silently, the young people keeping a wary eye on their mother. They recognized a set of firmness around her lips that portended a state of mind hard to move. They had had experience before with that look on her face and felt more trouble ahead.

      Rilla fairly flew at the dishes when they were done, and very soon everything was in place.

      “Now!” said Thurlow, leading his mother to her comfortable chair in the living room. “Let’s hear the worst!”

      The mother went to her desk and got a long envelope, returning to her chair.

      “I’ve been going over the papers in the desk, getting ready to move,” she said as she sat down, “and I found some papers I had forgotten all about.”

      She opened the envelope and took out a long, official-looking document.

      “It’s a deed,” she explained, “a deed to a small property down on the south side of the city. Your father took it over from a man who owed him some money. The man’s wife died, and he wanted to move away quickly, so your father took the property. It isn’t worth very much, but the taxes are paid, and it’s ours. I know you will not think it is a pleasant place to live, but we can’t help that now. It’s big enough to house us, and it won’t cost us anything. There is a barn on the place big enough to store the goods we want to keep. I’m selling some of them, of course. That will bring in a few more dollars to live on till times improve. I called up your Mrs. Steele, and she said she thought the ladies would like to purchase a couple of bedroom sets from the guest rooms. We won’t need so many again, and they are not especially interesting to us to keep. We never had any sentiment connected with them. The bookcases, too, won’t fit anywhere else.”

      The son and daughter looked at one another and gasped.

      “But, Mother,” demurred Thurlow, “you don’t realize at all what kind of a neighborhood the South Side is. You wouldn’t stand it a day, and it’s no place for a girl like Rilla to be.”

      “I thought you’d say that,” said the mother, “so I went down there yesterday while you were off. I sent Rilla to return some books we had borrowed from two or three places, and I took the trolley down there. It isn’t fashionable, if that’s what you mean. I’ll admit there are several factories nearby, and the railroad runs behind the house, but the lot is quite deep, and it’s only a siding from the main track, running down to a factory two blocks away. Anyway, I think we should move there for the present.”

      “But, Mother, why be so economical when we have that extra money?”

      “Because we’ve got to save every cent. By the time we are moved, there will be very little left to live on. You haven’t either of you an idea how much it costs just to eat. Of course, if we’re able to get jobs, all three of us, we can in time catch up and have things a little easier, but at first we’ve got to be very careful!”

      “Mother! Not you!” Rilla was aghast, and Thurlow rose up sternly.

      “Yes, of course I’m going to get a job,” said Mrs. Reed. “I’m not too old. I can get plain sewing if I can’t get anything else, but I’m getting a job! That’s settled. And we’ll