Читать книгу Heiress - Irene Brand - Страница 8

Still wavering between going to Columbus and rejecting the inheritance, Allison gave her employer two weeks’ notice and told her landlady that she would relinquish her furnished apartment in another month. More than once Allison picked up the receiver to telephone Thomas Curnutt to tell him that she wouldn’t accept the legacy and authorize him to transfer the assets to Mount Carmel Hospital, but something always held her back. Was it the unseen hand of God preventing her from making a mistake? At last, she telephoned Curnutt and told him that she would arrive in Columbus in late February, and he assured her that he would immediately set in motion the necessary steps to transfer Page’s assets to her.

Still plagued with misgivings, she began to pack her belongings. Allison wanted to move back home for the few weeks she had left, but when Beatrice still refused to discuss Allison’s plans for the future, she knew it wouldn’t be pleasant for any of them. Whether or not Charles intervened Allison didn’t know, but when Allison telephoned that she intended to move within a week, Beatrice did ask her to stay with them during her remaining days in Chicago.

Tim and Cleta came to help Allison pack the loaded boxes into her six-year-old sedan, and there wasn’t room for everything, but she gave a box of knickknacks to Cleta, enabling them to stow the remainder in the back seat and trunk.

As they shifted boxes to make more space, Tim said, “You won’t have to drive this old car much longer, Allison. What kind of new car will you buy?”

“I haven’t thought about a new car. I’ve been too busy burying the past to think about my future.”

“You’re afraid to think about it, aren’t you?” Cleta said.

Allison looked in amazement at her perceptive sister. “Maybe, but I have been busy.”

After Allison turned the key into her landlady, she said, “If we can all three wedge into the front seat, let’s drive around the city. Chicago has always been home; I rather hate to leave it.”

Along the lakefront, they enjoyed a view of the public parkland stretching along the shoreline, its broad beaches and lawns covered with a few inches of snow. They drove through downtown Chicago, with its spectacular skyscrapers, fashionable shops and many department stores. Entering the financial district, they noted at least six major banks, the Chicago Board of Trade, the City Hall-County Building and the blue-tinted Illinois Center. Only a few walkers braved the frigid weather to exercise in three-hundred-acre Grant Park. Allison had spent a lot of time with Donald in this downtown area, but she had also enjoyed days of pleasure with her family at the same places, so she focused on the family gatherings rather than her dates with Donald.

As the time approached for her departure, Allison felt her excitement intensify, yet she would have anticipated the adventure much more if her mother had not been displeased. Allison had deduced that Beatrice was not angry with her, for she prepared all the foods that her daughter preferred and insisted that Allison store anything in her bedroom that she didn’t want to move to Columbus, and she arranged a dinner party for the family and Allison’s best friends at a downtown restaurant and bought tickets to a performance of the Chicago Symphony. Allison winced at the cost of the evening, but she had to accept the outlay of money—for she knew it was Beatrice’s way of apologizing for her attitude. Allison decided that her mother was reconciled to the move, for she made no overt display of unhappiness, although Tim and Cleta shed tears for a couple of days before her departure, and Charles, his face solemn, would often hug Allison tightly without saying a word.

Although eager to be on her way, Allison dreaded their final parting, but she forced a cheerful attitude until, at the last minute, Beatrice embraced her eldest daughter and wept convulsively. Her grief spread until the whole family was sobbing, and when Allison finally drove away from the house, her eyes were swollen and red. Beatrice had gone into the house rather than watch Allison leave. She realized that her mother would miss her, but Allison still felt puzzled at her mother’s reaction. It wasn’t as if Columbus were a continent away—there was no reason they couldn’t visit often. Children couldn’t stay in the family home forever, and it wasn’t like Beatrice to act this way.

Allison planned two days for the trip to Columbus, but driving conditions were favorable and she arrived at the luxurious hotel along High Street where Thomas Curnutt had made reservations for her early Thursday afternoon. Over the past month, she had often wondered if this change in her circumstances was real or if she was dreaming, but if she needed proof that she was now classed among the wealthy, it came when she reached the hotel complex and a valet took her old car and parked it beside the Cadillacs, Lincolns and Mercedes belonging to the hotel’s other patrons.

As she followed another valet carrying her small bags into the reception room, Allison had never felt more out of place. Recalling a poem that Charles, from his childhood memory, had often quoted, she thought, “Lawk a mercy on me, this is none of I.”

Dressed in jeans, wearing a heavy parka and fur-lined boots, she certainly looked out of place, and she breathed a sigh of relief when the door of her room closed behind her. Even here she felt overwhelmed as she viewed the large room with king-sized bed, lavish draperies and bedspread, thick carpet and modish furniture. How she wished she were still in Chicago!

After she telephoned her mother that she had made the journey safely, Allison contacted the attorney’s office and made an appointment for the next morning. Still, she had several hours on her hands before bedtime. She wouldn’t consider going to a dining room in this building for dinner, especially when the few dress garments she owned were packed away in the car. She contemplated room service for her meal, but she couldn’t cower in the room for hours. So exhibiting a nonchalance she didn’t feel, Allison took the elevator to the lobby, happily noting that many people were dressed in casual attire, and went out to take a look around the shopping district.

Trying to envision what the city would be like in spring and summer, Allison snuggled into the warm parka, tucked gloved fingers into her pockets and merged with the natives. After she reached Capitol Square, she slowed down and looked in the shop windows, wondering if she should buy some new clothes. She wouldn’t spend an inheritance she hadn’t received, but she did have some Christmas gift money that she had been carrying in her billfold for weeks.

In a large department store, Allison tried on several dresses before choosing a two-piece brick matte jersey skirt and a matching tunic with vee-necked top. She also decided on a tailored navy suit with a long, fitted jacket and straight-cut skirt Though the style was a bit more severe than her usual taste, she thought it looked businesslike and made her appear older. Taking over Page Publishing, she’d need all the help she could get.

Leaving the clothing department, Allison stopped to look for a new nail color, for she wanted to work on her nails tonight. Packing and the rush of moving had been hard on her hands. She had spent all her gift money, so she didn’t buy anything new, deciding instead to use what she had in her cosmetic bag at the hotel.

The shopping had consumed Allison’s extra time and dusk was falling when she left the department store. She stopped for a meal at a nearby Chinese restaurant, and it was completely dark by the time she finished eating. The air was considerably colder, so Allison hailed a taxi to take her back to the hotel.

Dressed in her new blue suit, Allison didn’t hesitate about breakfasting in the luxurious hotel, and she asked the concierge to order a taxi for her at nine o’clock. She would leave her car parked at the hotel until she could make other living arrangements. After seeing the cost of the room for one night, Allison knew that her bank account wasn’t adequate to spend many nights here, and she figured it would be a long time before she had any access to funds from her inheritance.

The fast-driving taxi driver arrived at Curnutt’s office before she had her mind composed to talk to the attorney. One minute Allison was excited and optimistic about the adventure she was facing, and other times she was clammy with fear and indecision.

The latter emotion predominated when she cautiously entered the lawyer’s office. She thawed somewhat under Mary Curnutt’s welcome and the attorney’s outstretched hand, but when she sat facing him and Curnutt started discussing the legal ramifications of her inheritance, Allison swallowed hard and said, “You can’t imagine how inadequate I feel to be taking over this estate. You’re wasting your time explaining all those things to me. I don’t understand much of what you’re saying. Can’t you just take care of what has to be done?”

“I can do what I think is best if you’re willing to trust me that far.”

“I have no one else to trust, so please settle this estate as you would if it had been received by one of your children.”

“Very well. I promised Harrison that I would assist you in any way possible. Also, I will have his accountant refer any financial matters to me for the time being. Within a few months you will be more qualified to make decisions. For the present, you will have all you can do to take over the management of Page Publishing. I’ll take you there today.”

“Do I have to go so soon?”

“Yes, I believe so. The employees are quite edgy. Several of them have contacted me trying to find out what is going to happen to the business, but I had no right to divulge the contents of Harrison’s will without your permission. It isn’t fair to keep them in the dark any longer.”

Allison referred to the copy of Harrison’s will that she carried. “Who are the people named in his will?”

“Of course you know who I am, and I’m flattered that Harrison chose to remember me.” He read the names from the will. “Adra and Minerva McRamey are the caretakers at Harrison’s home. They’ve been in his employ for years. Minerva took care of Harrison’s wife, and of him before he chose to enter a nursing home. The McRameys are in their sixties.”

Curnutt adjusted the nosepiece of his glasses.

“Celestine Handley is an employee at the company. She has been Harrison’s secretary for years, and I question that he would have managed half as well if she hadn’t been there to support him. I’m sure she will be just as helpful to you. Benton Lockhart came to Page Publishing Company out of college and proved his worth right away. He is competent and steady, faithful and devoted to his work, and self-sacrificing for the company. When Harrison became ill two years ago, he made Benton his assistant, and after Harrison was no longer able to come to the office, Benton took charge and has been in charge since. He’s a calm and collected individual and the publishing company has expanded under his leadership.”

The lawyer tapped the document significantly. “All these people have been valuable employees to Harrison, and they deserved to be remembered in his will.”

“I wasn’t implying that they shouldn’t have been, but if I encounter them, I want to know why my uncle regarded them so highly.”

“You’ll probably see all of them today, so it’s well that you know something about them.”

As she folded the document and returned it to her purse, Allison said, “I knew a Benton Lockhart once. I’ve been wondering if it’s the same person.”

“I didn’t know Benton until he came to work at Page Publishing.”

“Then he isn’t a native of Columbus?”

“No. I believe he came from somewhere in Indiana.”

“Then it could be the same person, for I met the Benton Lockhart I’m talking about at a youth crusade in Indianapolis. He was the most fantastic spiritual speaker I’ve ever heard. I had expected him to go into the ministry, but I haven’t heard of him since that time.”

“To my knowledge, Benton isn’t a churchgoer, and although we meet socially from time to time, he’s never impressed me as a man with any spiritual side to his nature.”

Curnutt telephoned the publishing firm and made an appointment to see the entire staff at one o’clock, and while he talked, Allison was conscious of a deep disappointment. She had been hoping to renew the acquaintance with the Benton of her youth.

“That will give us time to have lunch,” Curnutt said when he finished the phone conversation. “There’s a nice café in German Village that provides a light lunch that you’ll enjoy. If you don’t mind, Mary can come with us.”

Allison replied that she didn’t mind in the least.

The Curnutts were delightful company, and as they traveled along the tree-lined brick streets, Mary commented on the unique atmosphere of the tiny Dutch-single and large Dutch-double houses of an earlier century.

“German Village consists of more than two hundred acres and is listed in the National Register of Historic Places. A good way to see it is to take a walking tour because one can get a greater appreciation for the window flower boxes, patio gardens and ornate wrought-iron fences.”

“There are several special events here during the year to celebrate our unique German heritage,” Thomas added. “This is a part of Columbus that the casual tourist doesn’t see. You’ll enjoy visiting this area.”

The small restaurant was decorated with red-and-white gingham tablecloths and cafe curtains. They ate their lunch of bratwurst on a sesame bun, hot potato salad and a fluffy cherry chiffon pudding, while outside, on the sidewalk, a small gaily costumed Alpine band played toe-tapping music, and Allison was able to ignore the stressful afternoon she faced.

After they returned Mary to the office, the attorney maneuvered his Mercedes through the busy noonday traffic and followed High Street north of the capitol, where he turned east on Broad until he reached a five-story buff brick building with Page Publishing Company etched in a stone slab across the front of the structure. Curnutt turned into a narrow driveway between two buildings and parked in the company’s private lot.

“Did Uncle Harrison own the building?”

Curnutt nodded. “And land is at a premium price here, too,” he said as he came around the car and opened the door for her. Allison was doing her best to remain calm, but she felt so weak that she actually welcomed Curnutt’s hand on her arm as he assisted her from the car. What awaited her at this meeting?

“There’s a conference room on the first floor, and that’s where the employees are to assemble. We’ll meet them first and take a tour of the facilities after they go back to their work.”

They walked down the hallway toward a buzz of excited voices that stopped immediately when Curnutt tapped on a half-closed door. He motioned Allison into the room filled with men and women gathered around oblong tables. Allison sat at a table near the door where two other women were already seated. She smiled timidly at them, and they acknowledged her by lifting their hands in silent greeting. She felt ill at ease, but she ran her hand over the fabric of her new suit, thankful that she was dressed appropriately in the latest fashion. Everyone’s attention focused on Thomas Curnutt when he stepped behind a podium in the front of the room.

“I know that many of you have been uneasy about the future of Page Publishing Company, and were even before the owner’s death, but I was not at liberty to divulge any details about his affairs. Now I can tell you that Harrison left the bulk of his estate to his niece Allison Sayre, who accompanies me today.” He paused as a murmur of surprise interrupted him. “That includes this company, so Miss Sayre has become the new owner. She has had two years of experience in the publishing world in her hometown of Chicago. Perhaps you would like to welcome her.”

The applause was perfunctory, hardly cordial, and Allison felt her face flushing. Her embarrassment was so great that she missed Curnutt’s next words and focused only when she heard him say, “Perhaps Miss Sayre has a few words for you.”

Even with her back to them, Allison felt every eye on her, but with a prayer for courage, she stood on trembling legs and, with as much grace as she could muster, turned to face her new employees. Everyone’s attention was riveted on her, and she didn’t see any sign of welcome, though some of the people looked amused. And no wonder—her youth and inexperience must be apparent Others seemed in a state of shock, as Allison was. She hurriedly judged there were about forty people present, and not one of them as young as she. A few of the men’s faces were belligerent and she figured they would refuse to work for her.

Surmising that the less said the better, and praying that her voice wouldn’t tremble, Allison began, “I arrived in town yesterday, so as yet I know nothing about the situation here. I have nothing to say to you now, but please plan for a staff meeting here on Monday morning. By that time, I will have made some plans.”

After she sat down, gloomy over her inadequate words, Curnutt stood again.

“I’m sure that Miss Sayre will appreciate the same faithfulness and cooperation that you gave Harrison Page. We’ll take a tour of the plant this afternoon, and the supervisors should provide any information that will facilitate Miss Sayre’s adjustment. You may return to work now, except I would like Benton and Celestine to remain for a few minutes.”

As the employees filed out, Allison turned eagerly to see which one was Benton Lockhart. A middle-aged woman remained seated, as did a strong, broad-shouldered young man with a close-clipped beard that matched his tawny hair. When the other employees were gone, Curnutt closed the door into the hallway.

“I asked you to remain to give you copies of Harrison’s will since both of you are named in it. He left each of you 5 percent of his total estate, and since I estimate his assets are nearly three million dollars, that should be an ample amount for both of you.” When he handed them the envelopes, he said, “I’m counting on both of you to assist Miss Sayre as she takes over the reins here.”

Celestine dabbed at tearful eyes with a tissue, but she smiled at Allison as she left the room. Benton hadn’t moved and Allison walked toward him. He observed her approach with cool, steady gray eyes sparkling with tiny golden flecks that matched the mellow tints in his hair.

“I’m wondering if you’re the same Benton Lockhart I met several years ago in Indianapolis.”

“I’ve been in Indianapolis several times, so that’s possible.”

“You wouldn’t remember me, but the man I met spoke at an evangelical youth crusade. If you were that person, I want you to know you made a tremendous impact on my life.”

Benton’s gray eyes didn’t change expression, but Allison sensed a chillness settle around him, and his lips twisted in a sardonic smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Let me assure you, Miss Sayre, that I am not the same man you heard speak in that spiritual crusade.” He looked past her at the attorney. “If that’s all, Mr. Curnutt; I have a client calling in five minutes.”

Allison’s disappointment was intense. One of the things that had bolstered her during her goodbyes in Chicago and assuaged her fear of taking charge of her uncle’s affairs had been the thought that she might see Benton Lockhart, who could provide the encouragement and guidance she needed during this tumultuous period of her life. Now that her hopes had been dashed, she couldn’t take much interest in the tour of the building.

As Benton moved toward the exit, his glance caught and held Allison’s, and he held out his hand. She was hardly prepared for the jolt that shot up her arm when she met his outstretched fingers, or the warmth in his voice when he said, “I hope your ownership of Page Publishing will be as prosperous and rewarding as it was for your uncle.” With a nod in the lawyer’s direction, he left the room. Was he or was he not the Benton Lockhart she’d once known?

Behind the conference room was a well-equipped kitchen. “This is used by the employees for preparing their lunches,” Curnutt explained. “The conference room doubles as a dining room. On special occasions the management has food catered for the staff.”

The rest of the first floor was the shipping department, which was supervised by Calvin Smith. A man in his thirties, Smith’s careless good looks were accentuated by bold, baby-blue eyes and thick brown hair. He shook hands with Allison and welcomed her to the company.

“Miss Sayre’s advent has deflated Lockhart, hasn’t it, Mr. Curnutt? He has enjoyed being top dog around here.”

“He didn’t seem deflated to me,” Curnutt said quietly as they moved on, and Allison wondered if Benton would resent her ownership.

Taking the service elevator, Curnutt said, “Let’s go to the top and start down.”

The fifth floor was used for storage, so they spent little time there; the fourth floor housed the printing shop, and although she knew very little about it, Allison was impressed by the functional electronic equipment. “Obviously Page Publishing has the very latest in electronic ware,” she said.

“Thanks mostly to Benton Lockhart. Harrison was more conservative in his methods, and as most people of our generation, he understood very little about the computer world. To give him credit, he knew his limitations and followed Benton’s advice. Benton has an engineering degree, as well as a degree in computer science.”

The bookkeeping and billing departments were on the third floor, and numerous computer stations were grouped around the room. “Harrison placed key people as supervisors in each department,” Curnutt explained, “and he didn’t try to learn the whole business himself, nor should you expect to. As long as the company was making a decent profit, he assumed the employees were doing the job they were assigned to do. I know you’re worried about how to manage the business, but you shouldn’t encounter any problems. Meet regularly with the supervisors from each department, ask for weekly reports from them, and as you study them, you’ll learn all you need to know. Perhaps until you know what’s going on, the supervisors should be accountable to Benton and Benton will be accountable to you. Any firing or hiring in the lower ranks should be handled by the supervisors.”

“But shouldn’t I have the final word in case of controversies between employees?”

“That’s debatable. You remember that Moses of biblical history was trying to handle all the controversies between the Hebrews, and his father-in-law convinced Moses that he should observe a chain of command. The company belongs to you, but I’d be mighty careful about meddling in situations between the supervisors and those who work for them.”

Three offices constituted the second floor, which was the main entrance into the building. The customers came first to Celestine’s office, a large room that contained several chairs for customers, her neat computer station and rows of filing cabinets. The room was carpeted and heavy draperies hung at the two windows and muffled the noisy traffic on Broad Street. Benton’s office was to the left, and since he was busy with a customer, Curnutt told Allison she could talk with him later.

Celestine Handley was dark haired with wide cheekbones, and although her skin exhibited some lines of middle age, she was still a beautiful woman. Her dark-green eyes were clear, steadfast, unfaltering, and Allison felt that with this woman’s support, she could take on the mantle that Harrison Page had cast upon her.

Celestine opened the door into the owner’s office, where a large portrait of Harrison Page hung behind the desk. Allison had forgotten what he looked like, for she hadn’t seen him for ten years, but she recognized him immediately, and his resemblance to her mother was startling. The office furniture in the room was worn, but still in good repair. Celestine went behind the desk and opened a drawer. She handed a key ring to Allison.

“Miss Sayre—” she began.

But Allison interrupted. “Please, call me ‘Allison’. Being addressed as ‘Miss Sayre’ makes me feel ancient.” Turning to the attorney, she said, “And you, too, please. That way, I won’t feel such a stranger.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

“Allison,” Celestine started again, a smile lighting her brilliant eyes, “these keys belonged to your uncle. There’s a key here to everything in this building. I don’t know that Mr. Page had any occasion to use them, but it was simply a symbol of his ownership. He could investigate anything he wanted to.” She dropped the large set of keys back into the drawer and handed Allison a ring with two keys on it. “These are the ones you should carry. They open the front and rear entrances and your office door.”

“This will be your office, Allison,” Curnutt said. “Don’t you want to try on the owner’s chair for size?” He smiled at her.

“No, not today,” Allison said, and her facial features felt frozen. Almost as if it were an animate object, the massive leather chair terrified her.

Perhaps sensing Allison’s stress, Celestine said, “Do you have time for a cup of coffee or tea?”

When the attorney assented, Celestine motioned them to a cozy corner of her office. They sat in easy chairs, and Curnutt took up the morning newspaper, placed conveniently for the company’s visitors. He offered Allison a section of the paper, but her mind was too muddled to concentrate on reading.

Celestine opened a nearby louvered door into a small kitchenette. “I have coffee ready, and hot water for tea,” she said, “but we have juice and soft drinks, too.”

Allison wasn’t normally a coffee drinker, but the stress of the day was wearing on her, and she needed a stimulant of some kind. After Celestine served Curnutt and Allison with coffee and placed a fruit tray on the table before them, she prepared a small tray, tapped on Benton’s door and served him and his customer. Allison munched on some grapes, sipped the hot coffee and contemplated the day’s activities. Perhaps the situation wasn’t as bad as she had suspected. She had detected no outright hostility among the employees, and in time, she might win their confidence. Celestine, who displayed all the charm of a hostess in her own home, had done much to put Allison at ease.

While Celestine was busy at her desk and Curnutt was absorbed in the newspaper, Allison reviewed her conversation with Benton Lockhart. She wished that she had brought the album containing the picture of the Benton she’d met in Indianapolis, for, in spite of his denial, she thought he was the same person she had met there. His neatly trimmed whiskers did cover most of his facial features, but one of the things she had most remembered about Benton had been his tawny hair and warm gray eyes.

Let me assure you, Miss Sayre, that I am not the same man you heard speak in that spiritual crusade. That could be interpreted in various ways—it could mean that he was the same person, but his attitude had changed, or it could mean that he had not been there. She couldn’t figure it out And what good would it do her if she did learn the truth? It wouldn’t be wise to delve into the man’s past. If she learned how to manage this firm, it would be with the help of Benton Lockhart; she couldn’t antagonize him.

After Celestine answered the phone a couple of times and searched out some files, which she delivered to Benton’s office, she joined them with a glass of juice in her hand. “I suppose Columbus seems like a small town to you after living in Chicago,” she said.

“I didn’t realize what a large area Chicago covered until I saw it from the airplane when we flew down here a few weeks ago to see Mr. Curnutt. We live in the suburbs and do most of our shopping in the area where we live. We go to downtown Chicago only for special events. But I think Columbus is a fine city, and I’m sure I’ll like living here. Could you advise me about finding a small furnished apartment? I want something fairly close to this business and not too expensive.”

Curnutt laid aside his paper. “Allison, I know it’s difficult for you to comprehend, but you’re a very rich woman now and you don’t have to be conservative in your choice of living quarters. It will be several months before you have complete control of Harrison’s property, but I’ll instruct the bookkeeper here to put you on the payroll, and you’ll receive a bimonthly salary as do the employees. Harrison drew a modest salary, just enough to take care of his expenses, and allowed the rest of the profit to build up the coffers of the company. I would suggest that you do the same for the time being. Do you have any way to anticipate your expenses?”

“I made twenty thousand dollars yearly at my previous job. On that I lived in my own apartment, had a car and saved a little money.”

“We’ll double that amount until you see how much you need.”

Allison pulled at the collar of her blouse, feeling as if her breathing had been hampered. Forty thousand dollars a year! Her father had supported a wife and three children on less than that. Why would a single woman need so much?

“But about your living quarters,” Curnutt continued, “I had assumed that you would live in Harrison’s home, which is yours now.”

“Oh, yes, Allison, you must consider living there,” Celestine insisted. “It’s a wonderful house.”

“Didn’t you say it was a three-story home? I don’t need that much room, and wouldn’t the upkeep be expensive?”

He smiled, and she knew he was amused by her conservatism, but her parents had had no choice but to be conservative; otherwise they couldn’t have supported a family on one salary so Beatrice could stay home and take care of the children. Even with riches at her disposal, it was a habit she wouldn’t lose easily.

“I’m sure your uncle would be pleased with your attitude toward wealth, for he wasn’t a big spender himself, and you’re right, the house is expensive to maintain. Although Harrison didn’t make any stipulation whether you should sell or keep the house, I suggest that you live there for a period of time before you make the decision. It is a largc house, but the caretakers occupy the third floor and take care of cleaning and maintenance, so it shouldn’t be a burden to you.”

“Even sight unseen, I’m willing to take your advice, but I would like to see the house when it’s convenient for you to take me.”

He checked his watch and took his appointment book from his pocket. “We can go right now. I have a dinner appointment at six o’clock, but we have time.” Turning to Celestine, he said, “Please telephone Minerva that we’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

The lawyer traveled on High Street until he turned left on Buttles, drove past Goodale Park to Neil Avenue, where he turned north again. The quiet atmosphere of the area and the Victorian homes on both sides of the street made Allison feel as if she had stepped back in time. Would the Brontë sisters wander out of one of the doors on their way to church? Perhaps Mary Todd Lincoln would be peering from a window, anxiously waiting for her tardy husband. Craning her neck to see each house they passed, Allison was impressed with the asymmetrical brick-and-stucco homes, many massed around a central tower or spire, marked by steeply pitched roofs and narrow arched windows accentuated by hood moldings.

Curnutt drove a couple of blocks before parking the car at street level. He pointed to a massive brick building.

“This surely isn’t it!”

“Harrison Page bought this house about twenty-five years ago. After his wife died, he devoted his time to decorating and furnishing the home as it would have been when it was first built. The house is yours now, and I hope you’ll be pleased with the results of his efforts. Shall we go in?”

“Allow me to sit here for a few minutes and take this all in. Yesterday I thought of a nursery rhyme about an old woman whose appearance was altered, and she kept saying, ‘Lawk a mercy on me, this is none of I!’ I don’t even feel like myself. Nor do I know my own mind. Am I grateful to Uncle Harrison for gifting me with all these material possessions, or should I resent his interference with a life-style that has been sufficient for twenty-four years? Ownership of this house is more daunting than ownership of the publishing company. I don’t know how I can cope with this change in my life.”

Curnutt gave Allison a fond look that she didn’t see, but he was pleased with her, and furthermore, he knew now that Page had made the right decision to convey his estate to this woman, although Curnutt had counseled against the move. In the few hours he had known Allison, he had observed the same qualities in her that had made Harrison Page a respected and wealthy man—determination, loyalty to duty, conservatism and intelligence. He silently thanked God that he had been given the privilege of introducing this young woman to a new world—one in which she would undoubtedly make mistakes, but also one in which he believed she would ultimately triumph.

Allison’s eager eyes took in every detail of the huge house. A brick pathway from the street traversed a small lawn, and two large marble urns stood beside the three stone steps that provided access to a wide porch with a crested roof supported by six round Ionic wooden columns. The porch was surrounded by a wooden railing sustained by elaborately turned balusters. Two slender junipers, their tops projecting above the porch roof, stood like sentries on each side of the steps, and groupings of low evergreens and shrubbery were arranged around their trunks.

The three-storied redbrick house was divided into three sections. On the left was a rounded turret crowned by a conical spire. The middle section was dominated at the second story by a curved leaded glass window in a floral design capped by a stone lintel, and to the right, uncovered by the porch, bay windows marked both the first- and second-floor levels. Several brick chimneys projected like sentinels from the steep gray slate roof. Such a home was worthy of a president or even a king; it couldn’t be hers.

Her eyes shining, she said, “It’s a beautiful building. I’m ready to go in now.”

With all the eagerness of a man playing Santa Claus, Curnutt opened the car door for Allison. Tingling with excitement, a broad smile lighting her face, Allison walked briskly up the steps and stopped before double walnut doors embellished by curvilinear floral designs in clear leaded glass. Above the doors was an oblong leaded window that matched the door panels. Curnutt reached around her and turned the old-fashioned doorbell.

As though she had been waiting, the right door was opened by a tall, angular woman with high cheekbones accentuated by steel gray hair pulled back and tightly wound into a small bun at her nape. Dressed as she was in a trim gray dress, she could easily have stepped out of the Victorian era.

“Welcome, come in,” she said in a pleasing voice that sounded as if she meant it. Behind her hovered a portly man dressed in a flannel shirt and denim overalls.

Allison and Curnutt stepped into the warm, high-ceilinged foyer, which Allison realized was larger than the living and dining room put together of her family’s house back in Chicago. Allison’s eyes were drawn immediately to the spiral stairway with graceful scrolled railings that terminated on a landing on the second floor. A brass chandelier with tiers of crystal pendants hung from a leaf-filigreed ceiling medallion. Burgundy carpeting covered the stair treads, and the foyer floor of darkly varnished hardwood was brightened with two Oriental rugs. The walls were a neutral tone of pale blue.

The foyer was long and narrow, with four steps at the rear of the hall leading to the kitchen area. To the left of the doorway was a massive walnut hall tree, with several hats suspended from the hangers. Facing them was a longcase clock that melodiously chimed the hour.

Sizing up every detail of the house, Allison hadn’t moved since she’d set foot in the hallway. She was brought out of her trance by a gentle tug on her arm.

“Allison, I want you to meet Adra and Minerva McRamey. They’re important fixtures in this house.”

Trying to shake the cobwebs from her head, Allison said, “I’m pleased to meet you. I apologize for being impolite. I’ve never been in this grand a house before.”

She shook hands with both of them, and Adra’s rosy face beamed at her.

“We’re glad to see you, Miss Sayre. Mr. Page was a quiet man, and he never talked about his family. We knew he had a sister somewhere, but we sure didn’t know he had any kin as pretty as you. How come none of you ever visited him? After his wife died, Harrison was lonely, and there was plenty of room in this big house.”

“As far as I know, we never had an invitation to visit him. It always puzzled me why he and Mother weren’t more friendly.”

“We’re glad you’re here now,” Minerva said. “What do you think of the house?”

“If the rest of the house is anything like this foyer, I want to keep it.” She gave Thomas Curnutt an anxious look. “That is, if you think I can afford it. The taxes and upkeep on a building of this size must be horrendous.”

“Nothing you can’t afford if you want to live here. Let’s continue our tour. The living room, originally called the parlor, and dining room are to the left. Harrison spent a great deal of time and money furnishing these rooms with genuine antique pieces of the period. Even the lamps and vases and such are antiques,” he added.

A fireplace fronted with gray marble, with a slab of matching marble as a mantel, over which hung a lighted picture of a woman in formal dress of the Victorian era, was the focal point when one entered the room. A brown leather sofa and two soft armchairs upholstered in flowery chintz were grouped around a large oval coffee table placed on an Oriental rug. A delicate brass chandelier with a few crystal prisms hung from a ceiling medallion over the coffee table. A nineteenth-century wooden bench covered with needlepoint was to their right, and a grand piano stood along the wall that looked out on the street.

“This room seems as if it has never been used.”

“Mr. Page didn’t entertain much, and he spent all his time in the office across the hall,” Minerva said. Motioning to the adjoining room, she added, “He did like his meals served in the dining room.”

She led them into the dining room, designed with a fireplace identical to the one in the parlor; a portrait of a wigged Victorian gentleman hung over it. A glittering crystal chandelier shed a soft glow over an oval oak table covered with an ecru crocheted tablecloth. Eight cane-back chairs stood around the table, a hutch displayed a set of English bone china and a corner cupboard contained a dazzling array of deeply cut crystal. A garish tree-of-life wallpaper accented the wall above the dark three-foot wainscoting.

Opposite the parlor and dining room was Harrison’s office, masculine and overwhelming with its dark wooden furniture, walnut paneling and parqueted floor.

“This could do with a bit of bright color,” Allison said.

“I agree with you, Miss,” Minerva said, “but Mr. Page was a rather somber man. You’ll like the library next door.”

“Oh, yes,” Allison said when she entered the library, as bright as the noonday sun. A glazed chintz lounge stood between two windows hung with balloon curtains. A needlepoint rug covered the floor. Two wicker chairs were upholstered with the same chintz as the lounge and a floral-patterned fabric was draped over the bay window, which looked out to a landscaped garden area. Several needlepoint cushions were displayed throughout the room, and the seats of many small chairs were upholstered with a variety of patterns, ranging from small-scaled flowers with muted backgrounds to a few that portrayed parrots and other tropical birds in bright floral settings.

“Who has done all this handwork?” Allison said, admiring a cushion that had a lifelike representation of a macaw. She appreciated the many hours of painstaking work that had gone into the crocheted doilies and other finely done handwork in the house because her mother always had a needlepoint project under way.

“I’ve done a lot of the crocheting, but Mrs. Page did the intricate work,” Minerva said. “Being an invalid, she devoted most of her time to creating with her needle.”

Noting that there was a desk and chair in one corner of the library, Allison decided this was where she would spend most of her time, rather than in the more formal rooms.

The kitchen had all the modern conveniences—waste disposal, microwave, dishwasher—and Allison clapped her hands in joy when she saw the rounded dinette adjacent to the kitchen. Located in the turret, the dining area was lighted by three curved windows accentuated by airy lace curtains. A round pedestal oak table placed on a ceramic tile floor had four matching chairs around it. A potted African violet bloomed profusely in the middle of the table, and other plants stood on the window ledge.

Allison drew back the curtains and looked out on a high laurel hedge that hid the house next door. Two white iron benches were grouped around an oval matching table, and a tall Greek statue overlooked the scene.

“Oh, what a lovely place! When we look out our kitchen window at home, we see the house next door.” Donald’s house, she thought quickly and pushed the memory aside. “I’ll love having my meals here.”

“Do you have time for a serving of banana cream pie?” Minerva asked.

“I am in a hurry,” Curnutt said, “but I’ll never turn down your pie.”

They sat in the dinette alcove, and while they waited to be served, Allison said, “This is the most fabulous home I’ve ever seen. I’ll try it for several months anyway. It may prove too much for me, and I may feel lost here. Our whole home in Chicago isn’t a quarter this large. It scares me in a way, but I do feel at home already.”

When Minerva brought the pie and a beverage, Curnutt pulled out the extra chairs and said, “Sit down, Minerva, and you, too, Adra. You should be involved in any plans we make for this house.”

Adra declined pie, but drank a cup of coffee.

“First of all, Allison, when do you want to move in?” the attorney said.

“Why not tomorrow? I don’t see any reason to pay for a hotel room when this house is standing empty.”

Minerva nodded approvingly.

The attorney turned to the McRameys. “I assume that you’re willing to stay with Allison under the same arrangements you had with Harrison.”

“More than willing,” Adra said. “We like it here.”

“What are the arrangements?” Allison asked.

“They are paid a salary of one thousand dollars a month, which is all they can earn and still draw their Social Security, but they have free room and board, so it’s a good deal for them. In return for this compensation, Adra takes care of the outdoor work and does general maintenance work. Minerva is the housekeeper, and she did Harrison’s cooking.”

“That sounds like more of a bargain for me than for you,” Allison said. “This house is too large for one woman to take care of. You should have additional help.”

“A cleaning service comes in twice each year to wash the windows and give everything a thorough cleaning,” Minerva said, “but I manage well enough the rest of the time, though you’re sweet to be concerned.”

Curnutt looked at his watch. “Let’s see the rest of the house. I don’t want to be late for my appointment.”

They climbed the wide stairway, Allison in the lead, with the three adults trailing her, each eager to point out interesting things about the house.

Mrs. Page had occupied the turret bedroom and Allison liked it best. A white delicately scrolled iron bed with paleblue dust ruffle was covered with a handmade quilt. The small desk, rocking chair, bookshelves, nightstand, dressing table and a storage chest at the foot of the bed were all white wicker. The rocking chair was cushioned with a delicate fabric, and richly ruffled curtains enlivened the windows that overlooked the back lawn.

“And my own private bathroom, too,” Allison exclaimed when she saw the room with modern pastel-blue fixtures. “This is a suite any woman would enjoy, and it looks like paradise to me.”

Two other bathrooms and four bedrooms were located on the second floor. The third floor, occupied by the McRameys, was reached by a narrow stairway that opened from the kitchen or through a small door from the second floor.

“Those steps are steep to climb several times a day, aren’t they?” Allison said as she scanned them.

“I don’t mind the walking,” Minerva said, “but there’s a service elevator that Mr. Page put in several years ago for his wife’s convenience, so we don’t have to walk if we don’t want to.”

“There’s a full-sized basement for utility purposes,” Adra offered.

“I’ve seen enough for one day. I’m so excited now that I probably won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

Allison glanced around the upper hall one more time, and Curnutt looked at his watch as the hall clock struck five times.

“For the present, just plan on preparing my dinner,” Allison said to Minerva. “I’ll take care of my own breakfast and pack a lunch to take to work with me. I’m used to looking after myself. And if it’s all right, I’ll move in tomorrow morning. I will have lots of unpacking to do, and that will give me two days before I go to work on Monday.”

“Which room should I prepare for you, Miss Sayre?”

“I want the one previously occupied by Aunt Sarah. And will both of you call me ‘Allison’? I want to consider you friends rather than employees, for I have a feeling I’m going to need all the friends I can find before this first year is over.”

Curnutt and Allison rode in silence back to the hotel, and when he stopped his car in front of the entrance, he asked, “Do you want me to help you move?”

“No, that isn’t necessary. I didn’t unpack my car, and Adra can help me when I get to the house.”

“I’ll check with you tomorrow to see how you’re adjusting. I hope you can sleep tonight.”

“I doubt that I will. Right now, I’ve been elevated to the heights, but I’m levelheaded enough to know that only a little jolt can topple me to the other extreme.”

He patted her on the hand. “Allison, you’ll be fine. I predict that within a year you’ll know as much about Page Publishing as Harrison did.”

His encouragement was welcome, for while she didn’t feel as desolate and afraid as she had this morning, Allison knew she was heading into an uphill marathon.