By S.E. Kiser
She looked down at him with a smile. Looked down at him out
of soft, deep, tender eyes.
And she was beautiful. The sweetness of innocence was upon
her face, "Are you Mr. Gorham!” she timidly asked.
"Yes," he replied, turning from the pile of
unopened letters upon his desk, "won't you sit down?"
"Thank you," she said, gracefully settling into the
chair which the office boy had brought forward, "I was sent to you by Mr.
Ainsworth. Mr. Ainsworth of Ainsworth & Summerfield."
"Ainswirth? I don't believe I know him. I've heard of
the firm."
"Oh, I got the impression that he was a friend of
yours. Judge Binkham also advised me to see you."
"I hope," he said, "it is nothing very
serious. Has some administrator been cheating you out of your right?”
"No, it is nothing of that kind. I wish I had rights
for an administrator to administrate."
She drew a long, deep sigh and looked down at the rug.
Alexander Gorham began to have a feeling of pity for her. He
wondered if one so young and so lovely could possibly want a divorce. It did
not seem possible to him that any man could give such a girl cause to want a
separation. Yet if she did not seek his services, for the purpose of having her
inheritance safeguarded he could think of nothing else but the desire for a
divorce that would be likely to cause her to consult a lawyer. He felt that it
was too bad, and suddenly be had an inspiration.
"Why not let the matter rest for a little while?"
he suggested. "This is Thanksgiving time. It would be too bad to make a
mistake now. Perhaps there has been a misunderstanding that can be cleared
up."
She looked at him with some perplexity.
"I don't think there has been any
misunderstanding," she said. "It is because it Is Thanksgiving time
that I have come to you."
"Very well," he replied, "only let me say
that I hope you will take no action hastily now that you may regret later. You
say that Judge Binkham sent yon to me?"
"Yes."
"Did he understand the matter fully? Did you explain it
to him?"
"Oh, yes, be understood It thoroughly. He was very
kind."
"The Judge to a fine old man. If he advised you to see
me, knowing all about the case, I suppose we may as well proceed. Please be
good enough to state the facts fully and clearly."
She unbuttoned her neatly fitting coat and drew forth a book
that was bound in limp leather.
"I am taking subscriptions," She said, "for
an edition of the classic that--"
Alexander Gorham's face hardened and he interrupted her,
saying:
"You will please excuse me. I'm very busy today. I have
all the classics I want."
"If you can spare me just a minute," she
resolutely went on, "I am sure you will see how meritorious this edition
is. We are offering it only to gentlemen who-- "
"I never buy books on subscription."
"Won't you please glance at the illustrations? You see
they are all photoengraves reproductions of the work of the most celebrated
artists. We do not ask you to pay anything until the books are delivered and if
they are not perfectly satisfactory --"
"I must insist on being excused. Nobody ever coaxed me
into buying a set of books that I didn't want, and I don't want these. You're
wasting my time and your own."
She drew another long, deep sigh and let her book fall into
her lap, while she looked steadily at the lawyer. He was almost middle aged and
beginning to be gray. While she gazed at him he ripped open two or three
letters and pretended to be busy reading them.
.
"You -- you said this was Thanksgiving time," she
ventured in hesitating, half trembling tones.
"What has that got to do with it?" he asked.
"You don't want to spoil my Thanksgiving, do you?"
"Will it spoil your Thanksgiving If I don't buy a set
of books that I have no use for?"
"I am sure you will like them. You can give them to
your wife for a Christmas present"
"I have no wife."
"That's too bad. I'm so' sorry. I – I hope it is not a
recent bereavement."
"No bereavement at all."
She slipped her book back inside her coat and got up.
“I hope," she said very softly and with a touch of sadness,
"that you will have a pleasant Thanksgiving."
He threw down a handful of letters and turned toward her.
"Wait a minute," he said. "Maybe I've been
unnecessarily harsh. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
"Oh, you haven't I'm used to being ordered out of
places."
"You don't look like a girl who could stand that sort
of thing and not feel it"
"One can stand almost anything when one has to."
"Do you have to do this?"
"I shouldn't be doing it if I didn't have to."
"Do you live at home?"
"Yes, but I have to work."
"What's the trouble? Can't your father support
you?"
"My father is dead. There are just my mother and
me."
Alexander Gorham turned and gazed for a moment at the
letters on his desk. Then he looked up at the girl again.
"Are you going to have a Thanksgiving dinner?" be
asked.
"I hope so," she replied.
"I used to be invited out to Thank giving
dinners," he said, "but for some reason people don't ask me any
more. I hate to go to a club for my dinner on Thanksgiving. There doesn't seem
to be any Thanksgiving about It wish I, could be invited out to dinner on
Thanksgiving again. Suppose won't you sit down?"
'I'm afraid I ought to be going. Unless I secure a
subscription our Thanksgiving dinner will be pretty poor."
"I'll tell you what I'll do. If you will invite me to
have Thanksgiving dinner with you and your mother I'll subscribe."
That's all right. I know where I can get one. Tell me where
to send it. Do I get the invitation?"
She started toward the door, and be followed her. She had
her band on the knob. They stood, looking at each other.
“Well," he asked, "are you going to make it a real
Thanksgiving for me?"
"Here is our address," she said, writing it on a
card which she handed to him.
"Now there's one thing more I want. Don't try to get
any other subscriptions. Let mine be the last."
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