He stared at me; then he got up. 'You've had your chance,' he said. 'You may never see that gold again. I have no idea what your Finian Chantry hopes to do - '
A voice spoke from behind me. It was the tall young man from down the table. 'Mister, if I were you, I would leave that gold with the young lady. Anybody who carries that much in the streets at night is crazy.'
James White ignored him. He pushed the paper at me again, and then the pen. 'If you want that money,' he said, 'you had better sign.'
'I am sorry, sir.' I got to my feet. 'Not until tomorrow morning.'
He got up too, and he was almighty angry, I could see that. His face was flushed a mean red and he glared at me. 'You are a very stubborn, foolish young lady, and you may lose it all.'
The young man had moved up beside me, and Mr. Prescott had come into the room. He said, 'If the money is due her,' he said, 'you will have it or the courts will take steps to recover it.'
He glared at us, then put the money back in the black bag he was carrying and without another word went out and slammed the door.
'Thank you,' I said.
'So that is James White?' Mr. Prescott said. 'I have heard of him. If you wish, I could arrange the time to accompany you?'
'No, thanks. Mr. Chantry will be there.'
We talked a few minutes and they left, going to their rooms. For a few minutes I just stood there staring down at where all that gold had been.
Had I been a fool? Just think! Tomorrow morning I could have been on a stage starting for home again. Now how long would it be? And would I get any money at all? What the law said, I had no idea, and maybe there were ways he could keep it, and I would have to return with empty pockets.
That night, lying in bed, I worried myself to sleep. Mr. Chantry was an old man and he looked frail for all that he was tall and moved well. Suppose there was violence? Where I came from in the mountains, there was often bloodshed over such things, and I did not know how it would be in Philadelphia. When I got up in the morning, I would check my pistol.
Mr. White was stocky, and although a mite thick in the middle, he looked strong. And there was that man who followed me. I should have told Mr. Chantry about him.
When morning came, and when I had my breakfast, I sat waiting in the sitting room. I was wearing a poke bonnet and a long full skirt trimmed with bows of ribbon and a shawl around my shoulders. My knitting bag was on my lap and my pick was inside my skirt in its scabbard and ready to hand. A girl can't be too careful.
Mr. Butts came in, picking his teeth with an ivory toothpick. He glanced at me irritably. 'I am surprised,' he said. 'You should have taken the money he brought. Five hundred dollars? It's more than I earn in a year! Preposterous!'
'I think she did the right thing, Mr. Butts,' Mrs. Sulky said. 'Why would he come over here at night to get her to sign those papers? They had an appointment for today.'
'She will wind up with nothing, nothing at all!'
There was a tap at the door, and when Amy Sulky opened it, Finian Chantry was there, a tall, elegant old man in a gray frock coat and trousers of a lighter gray.
'Mrs. Sulky? Mr. Chantry.'
'How do you do?'
'Mr. Chantry?' Mr. Butts thrust himself forward. 'I am Ephraim Butts, and I have been hoping to have a chance to speak to you - '
'Another time, Mr. Butts. Miss Sackett and I have business to discuss.' He stepped back to allow me to precede him. 'Miss Sackett?'
When we were seated in his carriage, I said, 'I don't like that man.'
'Do not let yourself be bothered by the inconsequential. One has only so much time in this world, so devote it to the work and the people most important to you, to those you love and things that matter. One can waste half a lifetime with people one doesn't really like, or doing things when one would be better off somewhere else.'
As we rode along over the brick-paved streets, I told him about James White coming to the boardinghouse with the five hundred dollars.
'You did the right thing, Echo,' he said. 'There is much more involved.'
He stepped down from the carriage at Mr. White's office and shifted his cane to the other hand to help me down. 'That's a beautiful cane,' I said. 'My father had one like it.'
'Yes, I shouldn't wonder. Inherited from your grandfather, perhaps?'
'Yes, I believe it was, although Pa never had much use for it. He was always a strong walker.'
'Of course.' He held the cane up. 'It is just a little something I like to have with me. It has become a habit, I am afraid.'
The tall, dirty-looking young man stood up quickly when he saw Mr. Chantry. 'Yes, sir!'
'Mr. White, if you please. Miss Sackett and Finian Chantry to see him.'
'Yes, sir. Right away, sir.'
White sat hunched behind his desk when we entered. He stood up grudgingly. 'Mr. Chantry? What can I do for you, sir?'
'You can pay Miss Sackett three thousand, three hundred and twenty-five dollars. This is, I believe, the sum due her from the estate of Barnabas O'Hara, deceased.'
'Now, see here! I - '
'Mr. White, I am not a very patient man. As I grow older, I find time very important. I also have had occasion to discuss some of your activities with various members of the bar. Miss Sackett has apprised me of your attempt to get her to sign away most of her inheritance, and I am in no mood for dillydallying. The money, sir!'
Reluctantly White got up and went to his safe. For a moment he hesitated; then he turned the handle and opened the door.
When he had counted the money, he pushed it across the desk. 'There!' he said. 'Now, here's the receipt.'
'One thing more.' Finian Chantry's voice was cold. 'The iron puzzle cube.'
White gripped the edge of his desk. He stared at Chantry, trying to frighten him. 'That cube? It's nothing but a child's toy.'
'My client likes toys, and she is very good at puzzles, Mr. White. The cube, please.'
White returned to the safe and brought the cube to the desk. 'It isn't anything.' He waved a careless hand. 'Just a sort of puzzle for youngsters.'
'Thank you, Mr. White.' Chantry turned to me. 'Now, Miss Sackett? Will you sign his paper?'
When we were seated in the carriage, Finian Chantry suggested, 'Now that your business is over, would you consent to have dinner with me? You have no idea what it would do for me to be seen with such a young and beautiful lady.'
Well! An elegant supper with Finian Chantry! When I was back in my room, I got out the dress I had made for just such an evening. It was not a dress made for this trip, but one I had made after dreaming of all those fancy places Regal had talked about.
Godey'shad a lot of pictures of dresses, although none of them had much of an explanation, and Regal was no help at all.
Amy Sulky helped, and then - and I was fairly amazed - the tall woman who I'd said looked like she was weaned on a sour pickle, she came to help. She was much better at pressing than I was, and she ironed out my dress. Then she said, 'Where are your gloves?'
'Gloves?' I stared, in a sudden panic.
'You must have gloves. No lady of fashion appears in public without them!'
In the end, she loaned me a beautiful shawl. 'From India,' she said, with no explanation at all. And she loaned me some lace mittens which were all the fashion. The shawl was rich cashmere, almost too beautiful to touch.
The dress was a full triple skirt, blue as the sky. I'd only two petticoats, so the sour-pickle lady, whose name turned out to be Alicia, loaned me another. Oddly enough, although she was tall, the petticoat was perfect for me.
