[CHAPTER XI.]
JOYS AND SORROWS.
"THANK you, Mr. Wallingford," returned Marion, her cheeks glowing with pleasure. "I loved Gerty the first time I saw her; and now it will be such happiness to feel that you have left her in my charge. Papa doesn't want your money. He's always doing kind things for every body; and he will take his reward in hearing my pet sing."
But the gentleman insisted that he could not take the trouble to unclasp his portemonnaie again, and left the bills on the table where Dr. Gilbert had quietly deposited them.
"I have a condition too," explained Marion as they were walking together to Mr. Dudley's. "I want this arrangement to be entirely between Gerty and myself."
"Why so?"
"You are too shrewd a lawyer to ask me to explain."
"Do you imagine my brother-in-law will object?"
"Perhaps not in so many words, but he knows I have heard some remarks concerning his neglect of his child-wife; and she might be annoyed,—I may not feel right about it; but I fear obstacles would be thrown in the way of our meeting daily, as we must; for I intend to give my little friend lessons in housekeeping as well as in literature."
"Wallingford," said Paul in the evening of the same day when Marion had accompanied Gertrude to her chamber; "Will you take charge of a lady to New York? A friend of mine, Miss Richmond, whom you met at our house in Philadelphia, has been spending a few months in Chicago, and wishes to return home. Do you remember her?"