“I think they are even more so,” laughed Mr. Worthington. “Perhaps the father confessor takes precedence, otherwise I believe people are quite as much interested in their financial secrets as in anything else in all this world. Have you a financial secret?”
“Yes,” said Linda, “I have what is to me a big secret, and I don’t in the least know how to handle it, so right away I thought about you and that you would be the one to tell me what I could do.”
“Go ahead,” said Mr. Worthington kindly. “I’ll give you my word of honour to keep any secret you confide to me.”
Linda produced her letter. She opened it and without any preliminaries handed it and the cheque to the banker. He looked at the cheque speculatively, and then laid it aside and read the letter. He gave every evidence of having read parts of it two or three times, then he examined the cheque again, and glanced at Linda.
“And just how did you come into possession of this, young lady?” he inquired. “And what is it that you want of me?”
“Why, don’t you see?” said Linda. “It’s my letter and my cheque; I’m ‘Jane Meredith.’ Now how am I going to get my money.”
For one dazed moment Mr. Worthington studied Linda; then he threw back his head and laughed unrestrainedly. He came around the table and took both Linda’s hands.
“Bully for you!” he cried exultantly. “How I wish your father could see the seed he has sown bearing its fruit. Isn’t that fine? And do you want to go on with this anonymously?”
“I think I must,” said Linda. “I have said in my heart that no Jap, male or female, young or old, shall take first honours in a class from which I graduate; and you can see that if people generally knew this, it would make it awfully hard for me to go on with my studies, and I don’t know that the editor who is accepting this work would take it if he knew it were sent him by a high-school Junior. You see the dignified way in which he addresses me as ‘madam’?”
“I see,” said Mr. Worthington reflectively.