“No,” said Linda.
“None of the clerks know you?”
“Not that I remember,” said Linda. “I might possibly be acquainted with some of them. I have merely passed through the bank on my way to your room twice.”
“Then,” said the banker, “we’ll have to risk it. After this estate business is settled you will want to open an account in your name.”
“Quite true,” said Linda.
“Then I would advise you,” said Mr. Worthington, “to open this account in your own name. Endorse this cheque ‘Jane Meredith’ and make it payable to me personally. Whenever one of these comes, bring it to me and I’ll take care of it for you. One minute.”
He left Linda sitting quietly reading and rereading her letter, and presently returned and laid a sheaf of paper money before her.
“Take it to the paying teller. Tell him that you wish to deposit it, and ask him to give you a bank book and a cheque book,” he said. “Thank you very much for coming to me and for confiding in me.”
Linda gathered up the money, and said good-bye to the banker. Just as she started forward she recognized Eileen at the window of the paying teller. It was an Eileen she never before had seen. Her face was strained to a ghastly gray. Her hat was not straight and her hands were shaking. Without realizing that she was doing it, Linda stepped behind one of the huge marble pillars supporting the ceiling and stood there breathlessly, watching Eileen. She could gather that she was discussing the bank ledger which lay before the teller and that he was refusing something that Eileen was imploring him to do. Linda thought she understood what it was. Then very clearly Eileen’s voice, sharp and strained, reached her ears.
“You mean that you are refusing to pay me my deposits on my private account?” she cried; and Linda could also hear the response.