With a hurried glance at his watch, he began to make ready for the
visit, struggling with drawers which would neither open nor shut, and
driven to despair by the damp condition of his clean linen.
In this room, locked away from all eyes but his own, lay certain relics
which Thomas worshipped. One was a photograph of a girl of fifteen. At that
age Alma Warbeck promised little charm, and the photograph allowed her
less; but it was then that Thomas Bird became her bondman, as he had ever
since remained. There was also a letter, the only one that he had ever
received from her--'Dear Mr. Bird,--Mamma says will you buy her some more
of those _jewjewbs_ at the shop in the city, and bring them on
Sunday.--Yours sincerely, Alma Warbeck'--written when she was sixteen,
seven years ago. Moreover, there was a playbill, used by Alma on the single
occasion when he accompanied the family to a theatre.
Never had he dared to breathe a syllable of what he thought--'hoped' would
misrepresent him, for Thomas in this matter had always stifled hope.
Indeed, hope would have been irrational. In the course of her teens Alma
grew tall and well proportioned; not beautiful of feature, but pleasing;
not brilliant in personality, but good-natured; fairly intelligent and
moderately ambitious.
Pages:
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430