The Golden Key; Or, A Heart's Silent Worship. Mrs. Georgie Sheldon

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СКАЧАТЬ and his heart was beating heavily with an emotion which he was striving to conceal, for he feared that it would never do to betray to his proud employer’s daughter that he had dared to love her with all the strength of his intensely strong nature.

      At least, he would not presume to betray his secret for a long while yet; perhaps, if fortune’s wheel should some time turn in his favor, he might dare to confess his affection for the lovely heiress, provided she remained the sweet and unaffected girl she had always hitherto been.

      Gerald Winchester was no ordinary young man.

      Confided to the care of an aunt, Miss Honor Winchester—almost from the hour of his birth, shortly after which his mother had died—he had been reared in very limited circumstances, although Miss Winchester was a well-educated and cultivated woman, and had given him careful training, both morally and intellectually.

      She had a small annuity, which, as the boy grew older, she found insufficient for their mutual needs, and, desirous of doing her utmost for her charge, she resolved to leave the small town in Rhode Island, which for many years had been her home, and go to New York, where she hoped to get something to do to increase her slender income.

      The move was made, and Miss Winchester, being an attractive, sensible woman, found plenty of work as seamstress in wealthy families; thus she was enabled to send Gerald to school until he was fourteen years of age, and had entered the second year of the high-school course.

      But, one morning, the lad had found his best, and almost only friend, lying cold and still in her bed. She had died of heart-disease during the night, and thus he was left alone and destitute in the world, for the woman’s annuity ceased with her life.

      The boy broke up their home, where they had been so quietly happy and comfortable for several years, selling off all their furniture, with the exception of an old-fashioned cricket, which his aunt had, upon one or two occasions, charged him never to part with, since it was a precious heirloom, having been brought from England during the reign of Queen Elizabeth by a remote ancestor.

      It was a queer-looking, rather clumsy affair, of solid mahogany, having claw feet tipped with brass, its surface upholstered with some bright, silk patchwork, which Miss Winchester had made to replace a former defaced covering.

      Gerald had almost a mind to let the thing go with the other household goods, in spite of his aunt’s wish, for he felt that it would never be anything but a burden to him; but he finally stowed it away in the bottom of a trunk, which contained all he possessed in the world, and removing to a small, cheap room, started forth to seek a situation where he could earn his own living.

      At first he was cash-boy in one of the large stores of the city; later he was office boy for an eminent physician, and finally drifted into Adam Brewster’s banking-house, where he had remained until now, working slowly and steadily upward, gaining his employer’s confidence and favor, until he had proved himself so capable, trustworthy, and faithful that the man regarded him almost in the light of a confidential clerk.

      From time to time the banker, pitying his homeless and friendless condition, had invited him to his own home, where he had spent many a delightful hour with Allison, who, from the first, had conceived a strong friendship for the handsome, manly fellow.

      For a long time Mr. Brewster did not once think that any serious result would be likely to follow this “boy-and-girl acquaintance.” Allison, his idolized daughter, was happy to have Gerald come to tea; to drive with her in the park on Saturday afternoons or holidays; to have him to dinner with them now and then on Sundays, and he was ever indulgent to her lightest wish.

      But of late—during the last five or six months—he had suddenly awakened to the fear that there might be danger ahead if these relations were continued.

      He had become very fond of Gerald—he knew him to be a noble, whole-hearted, high-principled fellow; but he was not to be considered, for a moment, as a possible son-in-law. No struggling, plodding clerk who had his fortune to make by his own unaided efforts would be a suitable mate for the banker’s heiress, whose million, or more, in prospect, must be matched by at least an equal amount and a position as enviable and secure as her own.

      So, during the last half-year, Gerald had received no invitations to the banker’s princely home—there was always some excuse of extra office work or special and important errands whenever Allison proposed his coming, and thus she saw him only when, occasionally, she slipped into the bank upon some pretense. This was the first time for months that they had been alone in each other’s presence, and Allison, making the most of her opportunity, gave herself up to the pleasure of the moment, and chatted, girllike, of anything and everything that came into her pretty head.

      Gerald, also, thawing out beneath her sunny influence, dropped the formality which he had assumed upon her entrance, and, during the half-hour that followed, feasted his heart upon her beauty and the charm of her companionship.

      Into this little banquet of love there suddenly intruded a man of perhaps thirty-five years—a tall, gaunt figure, with a slight stoop in his shoulders, but faultlessly attired. His face was thin, and absolutely colorless, save for the faint tinge of red in his lips and the cold blue of his eyes, which contrasted strangely with the intense black of his hair and mustache.

      His eyes lighted with sudden fire as they fell upon the dainty figure and bright beauty of Allison Brewster.

      “Ah, good morning, Miss Allison,” he remarked, in bland, oily tones, his thin lips relaxing into a smile that revealed a ghastly row of dead-white teeth beneath the black mustache. “This is an unexpected pleasure. I do not need to inquire if you are well—your blooming appearance speaks for itself.”

      “Yes, thank you, I am well,” the girl quietly replied, but without bestowing a second glance upon him.

      The man then turned to Gerald, a vicious smile just curling the corners of his mouth.

      “Ahem! Winchester, here is a message that must go immediately to the Second National Bank.”

      “Is it imperative?” Gerald questioned.

      “Yes; it must go at once.”

      “I am sorry, Mr. Hubbard, but Mr. Brewster is out, and, as you know, I am not allowed to leave the office during his absence,” the young man replied.

      Mr. Hubbard frowned, and then his gaze wandered again to Allison, with an eager look.

      “Yes, I know that is the rule,” he said, “but you will have to break it for once. The bank closes at twelve to-day, being Saturday, and the message must be delivered before that. Miss Brewster will doubtless excuse you,” he added, with the suspicion of a sneer, “and I will entertain her during your absence, or until Mr. Brewster returns.”

      Gerald glanced at the clock, and a troubled expression flitted over his face, but after another moment of thought, he said quietly but firmly:

      “I would like to oblige you, Mr. Hubbard, but Mr. Brewster’s orders to me are imperative. I can, under no circumstances, leave the office during his absence.”

      “But I tell you this is an unusual case,” said the man impatiently; “there is no messenger in just now—we are very busy to-day, and you will have to go.”

      “It is impossible—I cannot leave my post without orders direct from Mr. Brewster,” Gerald responded, an unmistakable note of determination in his tones; “you СКАЧАТЬ