“Give it to him, dear; it is to be your gift,” Mr. Rosevelt said, glancing at Mr. Richards, who sat staring at them both in blank amazement.
A brilliant smile parted Star’s red lips; she shot a grateful look at Uncle Jacob, and advancing to their visitor’s side, laid the check down before him.
One glance at the figures, and the overburdened man bowed his head upon the table with a groan.
“I cannot take it! I cannot take it—and from you, of all persons!” he said, brokenly.
“Why not from her?” Mr. Rosevelt asked, huskily. “All that I have belongs to this dear girl, and, as I have told her many times, I live only to make her happy. She asked me to do this to-day after we had met you, because, she said, you had been kind to her in the past, and she longed to help you out of your trouble. So take it as her gift, my boy; make the best use of it that you can, and welcome.”
George Richards groaned again, while he reached forth and grasped the old man’s hand, wringing it in silent gratitude, yet overwhelmed with shame and remorse as he remembered all that he and the fair-haired, gentle girl standing beside him had suffered while they were members of his family.
He had no words of thanks to offer for this generous help in time of need, but if ever a world-weary heart was relieved of a burden too heavy to be borne, his was, when at length he folded that precious bit of paper and put it away for future use.
When he arose to take his leave, he took both of Star’s hands in his and drew her aside, where he could speak to her alone.
“But for you,” he said, in unsteady tones, “I should have been a ruined man a week hence. To tell you that I am ashamed to receive this gift from you does not express half what I feel, when I look back and remember your position in my family. But you have bestowed it so kindly and delicately that it would be churlish in me to refuse it; and you have taught me a lesson which, God helping me, I will never forget—a lesson of forgiveness and charity; and no one in my house shall ever be treated unkindly again, no matter what their position may be,” he concluded, with stern resolution.
“Please forget all the past, Mr. Richards,” Star returned, sweetly, but with evident embarrassment. “I never entertained any feeling save that of gratitude and good-will toward you, for you proved yourself interested in my welfare in more instances than one while I was with you. But,” she added, solemnly, while she clung tightly to his hands, and looked into his eyes with an expression which made them droop guiltily before her, “will you not promise me that, no matter how dark the future may be to you, no matter what trials or disappointments may come to you, you will never again meditate doing yourself an irreparable wrong?”