“He and Rindy? Well, yes, I suppose you may say they did. You see he had absorbed everything his mother had, she never denied him anything he asked, so when she died all there was left was the house, which belongs to Rindy, left her by an aunt who had good sense enough to look out for her. I believe there was a little money left with it, besides. Albert was simply furious because Rindy refused to mortgage the house and let him invest her money in some wildcat scheme, but she set her foot down, wouldn’t budge an inch, and told him that a big husky man had absolutely no right to ask a woman to strip herself of her living that he might sink it in some worthless investment. He already had defrauded her of her share of her father’s property, which her mother had let him have to invest from time to time, and now that it was gone she meant to hold on to what was hers in her own right.”
“Good! I am glad she had the courage to say that.”
“It was exactly the best thing to say, although it sent Albert off in a rage. He never had been talked to like that, consequently he had been slow in developing. Petted and indulged, admired and flattered, he couldn’t see how any one should think he was anything but perfect. There must have been good stuff in him, for now he is making good, has waked up to a realization of the fact that if one expects to get anywhere he must use his own feet and not expect always to be carried.”
“Does Cousin Rindy know he is making good?”
“Oh, yes, and I think it is a satisfaction to her, although it must be bitter to think that after all her sacrifices for him and her mother he is so indifferent to her. Nobody has ever done anything for Rindy, but all her life she has done for others. She never had any youth, for she had to bear all the burdens, had to see her brother strut off dressed up in handsome clothes while she sat at home and drudged for him and her invalid mother, scarcely knowing what it was to have a decent new dress.”
“How horrid! How mean!” cried Ellen, starting up. “And now she is drudging for me. I’ll make it up to her some day, see if I don’t; and if I see any chance now to give her a good time, I’ll do it. You’ll tell me, won’t you, Mr. Todd, if you hear of any way she can have some fun?”
“I’ll tell you,” he replied, smiling at her excitement.
“I’m so glad you told me all this, for now I shall try to be as useful to her as I possibly can. Just think what she is doing for me, keeping me out of an orphanage, very likely. I’d be a perfect pig not to appreciate it.”
Mr. Todd nodded, with the thought in his mind that Miss Rindy might truly be said to have cast her bread upon the waters, but that he was convinced of its return to her.
They passed out of the dim and shadowy old church into the bright sunlight, and walked slowly toward home. On their way they encountered their small neighbor, Billy Hale, running madly after two small dogs who were trotting side by side down the middle of the street. Billy had a tin cup of water in his hand, and just as Ellen and her companion came up the youngster had succeeded in dashing the last of the water over the two dogs.