Poor and Proud or the Fortunes of Katy Redburn Part 17

"I am not too proud to ask or to accept a favor, but please don't make me feel like a beggar."

"You are a very strange child," said Mrs. Gordon.

"Indeed you are," added Grace

"I shall not feel right if you don't take this money. You know I promised to pay you at the time you gave me the receipt."

"I did not suppose you would, that is, I did not think you would be able to pay it. Your mother has got well, then?"

"No, ma'am; she is better, but she does not sit up any yet."

"Then how did you get this money?"

"I earned it."

"You!"

"Yes, ma'am; selling candy."

"Is it possible? The mayor told me you were a little candy merchant, but I did not suppose you carried on such an extensive trade."

"I make a great deal of money; almost five dollars a week; and now I am able, I hope you will let me pay you."

"If you insist upon it, I shall, though I had much rather you would keep the money."

"Thank you, ma'am. I shall feel much better when it is paid."

Mrs. Gordon reluctantly received the four dollars. It was a very small sum to her, though a very large one to Katy. She saw that the little candy merchant's pride was of the right kind, and she was not disposed to give her any unnecessary mortification, though she resolved that neither Katy nor her mother should ever want a friend in their need.

"I owe you one dollar, also," continued Katy, advancing to the side of Grace.

"Well, I declare!" laughed Grace. "If that isn't a good one!"

"I promised to pay you; and you know I would not take the money as a gift," replied Katy.

"I am aware that you would not, and you are the promptest paymistress I ever knew."

"With the dollar you lent me, I bought the mola.s.ses to make the first lot of candy I sold. Your dollar has done a great deal of good."

"I am glad it has; but I don't want to take it."

"Won't you let me feel like myself?"

"Certainly I will," laughed Grace.

"Then let me pay my debts, and not feel just like a beggar."

"You are the queerest child I ever saw!" exclaimed Grace, as she took the dollar. "I am going to keep this dollar for you, and perhaps some time you will not be so proud as you are now, though I hope you will always have all the money you want."

"I think I shall, if my trade continues to be good," replied Katy, who, now that all her debts had been paid, felt a heavy load removed from her heart.

"You must bring your candy up here. The mayor says it is very good. I have a sweet tooth, and I will buy lots of it," added Grace.

"I will bring you up some to-morrow," replied Katy, moving towards the door, and casting a last glance at the mischievous lady in the picture.

"The mayor told me to ask you to call and see him again," said Mrs.

Gordon. "He is very much interested in you."

"He is very kind;" and she bade them good-by.

Katy felt highly honored by the notice the mayor had taken of her. Like Master Simon Sneed, she felt almost like calling him her friend the mayor; but she resolved to call upon him on her way home. He received her very kindly, told her what a mistake she had made in giving the p.a.w.nbroker his note, who had never delivered it to the marshal, and promised to buy lots of candy when she came with her tray.

When she returned home she found a message there from Tommy Howard, requesting to see her that afternoon. She did not feel like spending any more time in idleness, when she had so much candy to sell; but Tommy's request was not to be neglected; and, taking her tray, she called at his house as she pa.s.sed up to the court.

Tommy had been talking for a year about going to sea, and had been for some time on the lookout for a chance as a cabin-boy or a reefer. He had told her his plans, how he intended to be a good sailor and work his way up to be captain of some fine s.h.i.+p. She suspected, therefore, that he had found a chance to go to sea, and wanted to tell her all about it.

She found him at home, waiting her expected visit; but a feeling of sadness came over her when she saw his manly face, and thought how badly she should feel if he should go off on the ocean, and, perhaps, be drowned in its vast depths. He had been her friend and protector.

Johnny Grippen hardly dared to look at her since the flogging he had given him; and Katy thought, perhaps, if he went away, that she should have no one to defend her.

"I am going to-morrow, Katy," said he, after he had given her a seat by the window.

"To sea?" asked Katy, gloomily.

"Yes; I have got a first-rate s.h.i.+p, and she sails to-morrow."

"I am so sorry you are going!"

"O, never mind it, Katy; I shall be back one of these days. I wanted to tell you if Johnny Grippen gives you any impudence, to let me know and I'll lick him when I come back."

"I guess he won't."

"He may; if he does, you had better tell his father."

"But where are you going, Tommy?"

"To Liverpool."

Katy started. Her grandfather lived there. After a moment's thought she conceived a plan which made her heart bound with emotion. She could send word to her grandfather, by Tommy, that she and her mother were in Boston, and then he would send over after them, and they could live in his fine house, and she should be as happy as a queen. Then she and her mother might be pa.s.sengers in Tommy's s.h.i.+p--and wouldn't they have great times on the pa.s.sage! And as her grandfather was a merchant, and owned s.h.i.+ps, she might be able to do something for Tommy.

Under the seal of secrecy she related to her young sailor friend all the particulars of her mother's history; and he wrote down the names she gave him. Tommy promised to hunt all over Liverpool till he found her grandfather; and to insure him a good reception, Katy wrote a short letter to him, in which she stated the princ.i.p.al facts in the case.

"Now, good-by, Tommy," said she, wiping away a tear; "I shall think of you every day, and pray for you too. I hope there won't be any storms to sink your s.h.i.+p."

"We shan't mind the storms. Good-by, Katy."

She felt very badly all the rest of the day, and her sales were smaller than usual, for her energy was diminished in proportion to the sadness of her heart.