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CHAPTER IV TEMPTING FATE

TEMPTING FATE

Marjorie, on her way out to keep her appointment with Mrs. Calderon Fordyce, paused in the hall to examine the mail which Minerva, deeply engrossed in the arrival of Miss Rebekah Graves, had deposited on the hat-stand and forgotten. Two of the envelopes contained circulars, and she tossed them back on the marble stand, but the third was a note from their family lawyer curtly informing Marjorie that the savings bank in which Madame Yvonett kept a small reserve account, had failed, and asking her to break the news to her aunt.

Marjorie

M

Marjorie stumbled back and leaned weakly against the newel post, her strength stricken from her. All that Madame Yvonett had been able to save—gone! Oh, it was too cruel to be believed! From upstairs came the sound of voices, and her aunt’s merry laugh rang out cheerily. “The lightest heart makes sometimes heaviest mourning”—the words recurred to Marjorie as she started blindly up the stairs, the lawyer’s letter still clutched in her hand.

She found her aunt in her bedroom talking to [Pg 29]Miss Rebekah Graves, a spinster whose brusque and didactic manner often gave offense. She had also a most annoying habit of dragging in her religious beliefs in ordinary conversation, and her intimate knowledge of the divine intentions of Providence was a constant source of wonder to her friends. Opposite as they were in character and beliefs, she and Madame Yvonett were warmly attached to each other, and Marjorie was thankful for the spinster’s presence, fearing as she did that her bad news might give Madame Yvonett another heart attack. As gently as she could she told her aunt of her financial loss.

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“Thee means, child, that my money is gone?” asked Madame Yvonett dully, as Marjorie came to a breathless pause.

“Yes. The bank has failed....”

“The Lord’s will be done!” ejaculated Miss Rebekah in devout resignation.

“Thee is wrong, Rebekah; thy God and mine had no hand in the bank’s failure,” retorted Madame Yvonett, her keen sense of humor dominating her impulse to cry as the realization of her loss dawned upon her. “The devil who tempts men to wickedness has wrought his will in this. What is thee giving me, Marjorie?”

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