Barbara looked grave. “Did Uncle Ralph write you about this?”
“Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Thurston, “two or three weeks ago. I have had it on my mind ever since. Your uncle used to own some of this same stock, but he wrote me he had sold out some time ago.”
“It is strange he didn’t tell us to sell at the same time,” Barbara reflected. “What does Uncle Ralph propose that we do? He is so rich I think he might show some interest in you, poor dear. You are his only sister, especially since he has made all his money out of the business father founded.”
“Your Uncle Ralph suggests,” Mrs. Thurston faltered, “that we find some work to do. But you and Mollie must be educated, and I am so ignorant of business.”
Barbara’s cheeks were crimson and her brown eyes flashed. “I think, mother,” she said quietly, “it will be just as well for us to learn a little more about Uncle Ralph’s management of our business. I am going to consult Mr. Stuart; I am sure he will give us good advice; he is such a clear-headed business man. Don’t you worry, mother, dear, for I am sure things will turn out all right.”
Mrs. Thurston rose to go out to market.
“Before you go, mother,” Barbara begged, “will you please let me see the roll of father’s business papers you have stored away in the trunk in the attic. Oh, I know they are of no value, but just the same I am curious to see them.”
“Well, if you are so determined, all right,” sighed Mrs. Thurston.
Before she left the house she handed Barbara a roll of old papers tied with a crimson cord.
Bab sat pondering with the papers in her lap. She was more frightened at her mother’s news than she would show. They were mere girls, she and Mollie, and their little mother had no knowledge of business. She shook herself impatiently. Barbara was an optimist—things would turn out all right.