That night, lying in bed, I worried myself to sleep. Mr. Chantry was an old man and he looked frail for all that he was tall and moved well. Suppose there was violence? Where I came from in the mountains, there was often bloodshed over such things, and I did not know how it would be in Philadelphia. When I got up in the morning, I would check my pistol.
Mr. White was stocky, and although a mite thick in the middle, he looked strong. And there was that man who followed me. I should have told Mr. Chantry about him.
When morning came, and when I had my breakfast, I sat waiting in the sitting room. I was wearing a poke bonnet and a long full skirt trimmed with bows of ribbon and a shawl around my shoulders. My knitting bag was on my lap and my pick was inside my skirt in its scabbard and ready to hand. A girl can’t be too careful.
Mr. Butts came in, picking his teeth with an ivory toothpick. He glanced at me irritably. “I am surprised,” he said. “You should have taken the money he brought. Five hundred dollars? It’s more than I earn in a year! Preposterous!”
“I think she did the right thing, Mr. Butts,” Mrs. Sulky said. “Why would he come over here at night to get her to sign those papers? They had an appointment for today.”
“She will wind up with nothing, nothing at all!”
There was a tap at the door, and when Amy Sulky opened it, Finian Chantry was there, a tall, elegant old man in a gray frock coat and trousers of a lighter gray.
“Mrs. Sulky? Mr. Chantry.”
“How do you do?”
“Mr. Chantry?” Mr. Butts thrust himself forward. “I am Ephraim Butts, and I have been hoping to have a chance to speak to you — ”
“Another time, Mr. Butts. Miss Sackett and I have business to discuss.” He stepped back to allow me to precede him. “Miss Sackett?”
When we were seated in his carriage, I said, “I don’t like that man.”
“Do not let yourself be bothered by the inconsequential. One has only so much time in this world, so devote it to the work and the people most important to you, to those you love and things that matter. One can waste half a lifetime with people one doesn’t really like, or doing things when one would be better off somewhere else.”
As we rode along over the brick-paved streets, I told him about James White coming to the boardinghouse with the five hundred dollars.
“You did the right thing, Echo,” he said. “There is much more involved.”
He stepped down from the carriage at Mr. White’s office and shifted his cane to the other hand to help me down. “That’s a beautiful cane,” I said. “My father had one like it.”
“Yes, I shouldn’t wonder. Inherited from your grandfather, perhaps?”
“Yes, I believe it was, although Pa never had much use for it. He was always a strong walker.”
“Of course.” He held the cane up. “It is just a little something I like to have with me. It has become a habit, I am afraid.”
The tall, dirty-looking young man stood up quickly when he saw Mr. Chantry. “Yes, sir!”
“Mr. White, if you please. Miss Sackett and Finian Chantry to see him.”
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”
White sat hunched behind his desk when we entered. He stood up grudgingly. “Mr. Chantry? What can I do for you, sir?”
“You can pay Miss Sackett three thousand, three hundred and twenty-five dollars. This is, I believe, the sum due her from the estate of Barnabas O’Hara, deceased.”
“Now, see here! I — ”
“Mr. White, I am not a very patient man. As I grow older, I find time very important. I also have had occasion to discuss some of your activities with various members of the bar. Miss Sackett has apprised me of your attempt to get her to sign away most of her inheritance, and I am in no mood for dillydallying. The money, sir!”
Reluctantly White got up and went to his safe. For a moment he hesitated; then he turned the handle and opened the door.
When he had counted the money, he pushed it across the desk. “There!” he said. “Now, here’s the receipt.”
“One thing more.” Finian Chantry’s voice was cold. “The iron puzzle cube.”
White gripped the edge of his desk. He stared at Chantry, trying to frighten him. “That cube? It’s nothing but a child’s toy.”
“My client likes toys, and she is very good at puzzles, Mr. White. The cube, please.”
White returned to the safe and brought the cube to the desk. “It isn’t anything.” He waved a careless hand. “Just a sort of puzzle for youngsters.”
“Thank you, Mr. White.” Chantry turned to me. “Now, Miss Sackett? Will you sign his paper?”
When we were seated in the carriage, Finian Chantry suggested, “Now that your business is over, would you consent to have dinner with me? You have no idea what it would do for me to be seen with such a young and beautiful lady.”
Well! An elegant supper with Finian Chantry! When I was back in my room, I got out the dress I had made for just such an evening. It was not a dress made for this trip, but one I had made after dreaming of all those fancy places Regal had talked about.
Godey’s had a lot of pictures of dresses, although none of them had much of an explanation, and Regal was no help at all.
Amy Sulky helped, and then — and I was fairly amazed — the tall woman who I’d said looked like she was weaned on a sour pickle, she came to help. She was much better at pressing than I was, and she ironed out my dress. Then she said, “Where are your gloves?”
“Gloves?” I stared, in a sudden panic.
“You must have gloves. No lady of fashion appears in public without them!”
In the end, she loaned me a beautiful shawl. “From India,” she said, with no explanation at all. And she loaned me some lace mittens which were all the fashion. The shawl was rich cashmere, almost too beautiful to touch.
The dress was a full triple skirt, blue as the sky. I’d only two petticoats, so the sour-pickle lady, whose name turned out to be Alicia, loaned me another. Oddly enough, although she was tall, the petticoat was perfect for me.
When I spoke of it, she said, with never a flicker of expression, “It belonged to my daughter.”
“Oh! I hope she won’t mind.”
“My daughter is dead.” She spoke flatly and turned away. I did not know what to say, so I said nothing at all.
When I was all ready and waiting for Mr. Chantry, both Amy and Alicia stood waiting with me. “You are very beautiful,” Alicia said. “You should stay in Philadelphia. ”
“I love the mountains, and besides, while Regal is laid up, who would hunt for them?”
“You mean you hunt? You? You actually kill things?”
“Yes, ma’am. Whatever meat we have is wild meat, shot by me when the boys are away. We have hogs, razorbacks they call them, but they run wild in the forest and we only gather them up to sell them in town. There’s no more fun ever than being on a hog or turkey drive, going miles across the hills to the towns.
“That is, it’s a sight of fun while the weather’s nice, but if it comes on to rain, it can be awful. We have to find a place to pen them for the night. Mostly folks along the way are helpful, but if a body’s caught in the forest, it can be right mean.”
There I was standing in my triple skirt with lace mittens and all, that auburn hair which everybody says is beautiful falling over my shoulders, and talking of driving wild hogs and hunting game.
“If I were you,” Amy advised, “I’d say nothing of driving hogs to the people you may meet tonight. They wouldn’t understand.”
“Yes, ma’am, but ever’body in the mountains does what’s necessary.”
The United States Hotel served up a supper the like of which I’d never seen, and we had Mumm’s champagne to drink, which cost two dollars and a half a bottle!
“Do you have wine in the mountains?” Mr. Chantry asked.
“Some do,” I admitted, “but mostly folks drink cider or whiskey of their own make. At least, the menfolks do. There’s wild grapes in the mountains, and there have been some planted here and there. Some folks have made wine, but not such as this.”
Two dollars and a half a bottle! That was outrageous. In the mountains a body could buy a barrel of whiskey for that price.
“I never paid much mind to it, Mr. Chantry,” I said. “Womenfolks in the mountains in our time don’t touch whiskey. At least, not in public. There are some who like a little nip on the sly, but not me. None of our family were drinkers, although I’ve heard tell that wild Clinch Mountain bunch would tap the jug once in a while.”