the lady, who was one of the greatestgossips in the town, "that you were one of the teachers in the HighSchool?"
"That is true," answered Annie; "I was doing so upon probation; but Ihad not yet begun to receive any salary for it. I was only a sort ofapprentice to the work, and under no engagement."
Mrs. Macintosh, after regarding Annie for some time, and taking silentobservation of her modesty and good-breeding, said at last:
"I like the look of you, Miss--, Miss----"
"My name is Annie Melville."
"Well, Annie, I confess I do not indeed _see_ anything particularlyunsuitable in you, but at the same time I cannot help fearing you maybe--or, I should say rather, may imagine yourself--superior to what maybe required of you."
"Oh, no, ma'am!" answered Annie; "I assure you I am too poor to think ofany such thing! Indeed, I am so anxious to make money at once that, ifyou would consent to give me a trial, I should be ready to come to youthis very evening."
"You will have no wages before the end of your six months."
"I understand, ma'am."
"It is a risk to take you without a character."
"I am very sorry, ma'am; but I have no one that can vouch forme--except, indeed, Mrs. Slater, of the High School, would say a word inmy favor."
"Well, well!" answered Mrs. Macintosh, "I am so far pleased with youthat I do not think I can be making a _great_ mistake if I merelygive you a trial. You may come to-night, if you like--that is, with yourmother's permission."
Annie ran home greatly relieved, and told her mother what a piece ofgood-fortune she had had. Mrs. Melville did not at all take to the ideaat first, for she cherished undefined expections for Annie, and knewthat her father had done so also, for the girl was always reading, andhad been for years in the habit of reading aloud to him, making now andthen a remark that showed she understood well what she read. So themother took comfort in her disappointment that her child had, solely forher sake, she supposed, betaken herself to such service as would at oncesecure her livelihood and bring her in a little money, for, with theshadow of coming want growing black above them, even her firsthalf-year's wages was a point of hope and expectation.
"Well, Annie," she answered, after a few moments' consideration, "it isbut for a time; and you will be able to give up the place as soon as youplease, and the easier that she only takes you on trial; that will holdfor you as well as for her."
But nothing was farther from Annie's intention than finding the placewould not suit her: no change could she dream of before at least she hada pound-note in her hand, when at once she would make it clear to hermother what a terrible scare had driven her to the sudden step she hadtaken. Until then she must go about with her whole head sick and herwhole heart faint; neither could she for many weeks rid herself of thehaunting notion that the banker, who was chiefly affected by hercrime,--for as such she fully believed and regarded her deed,--was fullyaware of her guilt. It seemed to her, when at any moment he happenedto look at her, that now at last he must be on the point of letting herknow that he had read the truth in her guilty looks, and she constantlyfancied him saying to himself, "That is the girl who stole my money;she feels my eyes upon her." Every time she came home from an errandshe would imagine her master looking from the window of his privateroom on the first floor, in readiness to cast aside forbearance anddenounce her: he was only waiting to make himself one shade surer!Ah, how long was the time she had to await her cleansing, the momentwhen she could go to him and say, "I have wronged, I have robbed you;here is all I can do to show my repentance. All this time I have beenbut waiting for my wages, to repay what I had taken from you." And,oddly enough, she was always mixing herself up with the man in theparable, who had received from his master a pound to trade with and makemore; from her dreams she would wake in terror at the sound of thatmaster's voice, ordering the pound to be taken from her and given to theschool-fellow whom, at the cost of her own honesty, she had befriended.Oh, joyous day when the doom should be lifted from her, and she setfree, to dream no more! For surely, when at length her master knew all,with the depth of her sorrow and repentance, he could not refuse hisforgiveness! Would he not even, she dared to hope, remit the interestdue on his money?--of which she entertained, in her ignorance, ausurious and preposterous idea.
The days went on, and the hour of her deliverance drew nigh. But, longbefore it came, two other processes had been slowly arriving atmaturity. She had been gaining the confidence of her mistress, so that,ere three months were over, the arrangement of all minor matters ofhousekeeping was entirely in her hands. It may be that Mrs. Macintoshwas not a little lazy, nor sorry to leave aside whatever did notpositively demand her personal attention; one thing I am sure of, thatAnnie never made the smallest attempt to gain this favor, if such itwas. Her mistress would, for instance, keep losing the keys of thecellaret, until in despair she at last yielded them entirely to the careof Annie, who thereafter carried them in her pocket, where they werealways at hand when wanted.
The other result was equally natural, but of greater importance; Hector,the only child of the house, was gradually and, for a long time,unconsciously falling in love with Annie. Those friends of the familywho liked Annie, and felt the charm of her manners and simplicity, saidonly that his mother had herself to blame, for what else could sheexpect? Others of them, regarding her from the same point of view as hermistress, repudiated the notion as absurd, saying Hector was not the manto degrade himself! He was incapable of such a misalliance.
But, as I have said already, Hector, although he had never yet been inlove, was yet more than usually ready to fall in love, as belongs to thepoetic temperament, when the fit person should appear. As to what sortshe might prove depended on two facts in Hector--one, that he wasfastidious in the best meaning of the word, and the other that he wasdominated by sound good sense; a fact which even his father allowed,although with a grudge, seeing he had hitherto manifested no devotion tobusiness, but spent his free time in literary pursuits. Of the specialnature of those pursuits his father knew, or cared to know, nothing; andas to his mother, she had not even a favorite hymn.
I may say, then, that the love of womankind, which in solution, so tospeak, pervaded every atomic interstice of the nature of Hector, hadgradually, indeed, but yet rapidly, concentrated and crystallized aroundthe idea of Annie--the more homogeneously and absorbingly that she wasthe first who had so moved him. It was, indeed, in the case of each afirst love, although in the case of neither love at first sight.
Almost from the hour when first Annie entered the family, Hector hadlooked on her with eyes of interest; but, for a time, she had gone aboutthe house with a sense almost of being there upon false pretenses, forshe knew that she was doing what she did from no regard to any of itsmembers, but only to gain the money whose payment would relieve her froman ever-present consciousness of guilt; and for this cause, if for noother, she was not in danger of falling in love with Hector. She was,indeed, too full of veneration for her master and mistress, and fortheir son so immeasurably above her, to let her thoughts rest upon himin any but a distantly worshipful fashion.
But it was part of her duty, which was not over well-defined in thehouse, to see that her young master's room was kept tidy and properlydusted; and in attending to this it was unavoidable that she should comeupon indications of the way in which he spent his leisure hours. Neverdreaming, indeed, that a servant might recognize at a glance what hisfather and mother did not care to know, Hector was never at any pains toconceal, or even to lay aside the lines yet wet from his pen when heleft the room; and Annie could not help seeing them, or knowing whatthey were. Like many another Scotch lassie, she was fonder of readingthan of anything else; and in her father's house she had had the freeuse of what books were in it; nor is it, then, to be wondered at thatshe was far more familiar with certain great books than was ever many anOxford man. Some never read what they have no desire to assimilate; andsome read what no expenditure of reading could ever make them able toappropriate; but A
nnie read, understood, and re-read the "ParadiseLost"; knew intimately "Comus" as well; delighted in "Lycidas," and hadsome of Milton's sonnets by heart; while for the Hymn on the Nativity,she knew every line, had studied every turn and phrase in it. It issometimes a great advantage not to have many books, and so never outgrowthe sense of mystery that hovers about even an open book-case; it waswith awe and reverence that Annie, looking around Hector's room, saw init, not daring to touch them, books she had heard of, but neverseen--among others a Shakspere in one thick volume lay open on histable; nor is it, then, surprising that, when putting his papersstraight, she could not help seeing from the different lengths of thelines upon them that they were verse. She trembled and glowed at thevery sight of them, for she had in herself the