The Forged Note: A Romance of the Darker Races

by Oscar Micheaux

She went to the office that day in the highest spirits, and was especially cheered to find a pile of letters in answer to the advertisements. Replies were many during the following days. In due course of time, she had secured a large number of agents, and a greater portion, upon following her instructions, were successful. Orders for books began to fill the office, and after she had been in charge of the office a month, she was pleased to see that she was actually succeeding. Each mail brought money and express orders, and then, the work being too heavy for one, she looked about for a stenographer to help her. She was successful in securing a very intelligent girl, a creole, with French ways and a command of that tongue which, at times, especially when excited, conflicted with her English to a degree that was amusing.

As the days went by, business increased, until at the end of six weeks, more than a thousand dollars was finding its way to the office each week. Mildred was encouraged, she was delighted. She deposited the money to his credit in a savings account, and used only what was necessary for expenses and for her own living. She became so enthusiastic over the same, that she almost forgot he would return, and then—but she got no further.

"He will be able to leave the hospital in two weeks, possibly ten days," the informant advised her the last day she called, which was eight weeks after he had taken sick. It was only then that she became fully appreciative of the position she held. She now became uneasy, as, after thinking it over for some time, she was unable to decide what to do. The business was now so heavy, that it was impossible to be away from it; money came in each mail, and sometimes in large sums, while orders and inquiries for the agency, kept her dictating letters for hours each day. She permitted herself, that day and other days that followed, to become the heroine in a wild dream. She saw him well, which he would be soon, and she fancied how much she could help him. But always, when she recalled the past, there came a choking, and she would turn desperately to her work in order to forget.

"And yet," she said to herself one day—and that was only a few days before he was expected to return—"I must do something. I cannot sit here and allow him to walk in upon me, because—he, oh, I'm afraid he might resent it."

One morning the mail was heavier than usual, because it was Monday, and Saturday had been a holiday. Springtime had come, with its time of blossom, and the air was fragrant. She hummed a little tune and was happy that day; happier than she had been for a long time. She went about the great amount of work with a calmness and precision, that resulted in finishing it before five o'clock. Ordinarily, there was enough to have kept them busy until the next day noon.

"Well, Katherine," she said to the stenographer, "we have been very industrious today, and I am going to bring you something nice tomorrow. You are very helpful," and with a quick impulse she kissed the other, who returned it as affectionately.

In that moment, she almost felt inclined to tell the girl the burden that was upon her, but she thought better of it quickly, and, with a kind word, she turned to her desk, and for a time listened to the other's footstep in the hallway, where she moved occasionally, while waiting for the elevator.

From a drawer she took some letters, and glanced over them reflectively. They were letters from a girl she recognized in the story, and from their tone, she surmised that the other had once loved him. That love, however, had changed in the course of events, and now they were only friends.

She sat for a long time and gazed dreamily out over the city, and then, suddenly, it occurred to her, that she was sitting in the same position he had occupied, when she had entered his office almost ten weeks before. She stirred uneasily. At that moment a step sounded in the hall, and came in the direction of the office. It paused a minute outside the door, and then it was opened, and some person stood on the threshold.

It was getting dark, and as the man paused, she observed that he looked about the office strangely—doubtfully. In so far as he knew, he had felt the office was a thing of the past, and at this moment he muttered: "Hump. Guess someone else is in this place." Presently, with another muttering, he came toward the window. Mildred sat stupified, and seemed unable to move any part of her body. She felt strangely paralyzed. When he got near the middle of the room, he suddenly bethought himself of the light, and turning, he went to the wall, where the switch was located, and pressed the button.