Ann Eliza understood and reddened. The winter had been a fairly prosperous one for the sisters, and their slowly accumulated savings had now reached the handsome sum of two hundred dollars; but the satisfaction they might have felt in this unwonted opulence had been clouded by a suggestion of Miss Mellins's that there were dark rumours concerning the savings bank in which their funds were deposited. They knew Miss Mellins was given to vain alarms; but her words, by the sheer force of repetition, had so shaken Ann Eliza's peace that after long hours of midnight counsel the sisters had decided to advise with Mr. Ramy; and on Ann Eliza, as the head of the house, this duty had devolved. Mr. Ramy, when consulted, had not only confirmed the dress-maker's report, but had offered to find some safe investment which should give the sisters a higher rate of interest than the suspected savings bank; and Ann Eliza knew that Evelina alluded to the suggested transfer.
“Why, yes, to be sure,” she agreed. “Mr. Ramy said if he was us he wouldn't want to leave his money there any longer'n he could help.”
“It was over a week ago he said it,” Evelina reminded her.
“I know; but he told me to wait till he'd found out for sure about that other investment; and we ain't seen him since then.”
Ann Eliza's words released their secret fear. “I wonder what's happened to him,” Evelina said. “You don't suppose he could be sick?”
“I was wondering too,” Ann Eliza rejoined; and the sisters looked down at their plates.
“I should think you'd oughter do something about that money pretty soon,” Evelina began again.
“Well, I know I'd oughter. What would you do if you was me?”
“If I was you,” said her sister, with perceptible emphasis and a rising blush, “I'd go right round and see if Mr. Ramy was sick. You could.”
The words pierced Ann Eliza like a blade. “Yes, that's so,” she said.