Ch. 6 - Seamstress

FOR some weeks Christie rested and refreshed herself by making her
room gay and comfortable with the gifts lavished on her by the
Carrols, and by sharing with others the money which Harry had
smuggled into her possession after she had steadily refused to take
one penny more than the sum agreed upon when she first went to them.

She took infinite satisfaction in sending one hundred dollars to
Uncle Enos, for she had accepted what he gave her as a loan, and set
her heart on repaying every fraction of it. Another hundred she gave
to Hepsey, who found her out and came to report her trials and
tribulations. The good soul had ventured South and tried to buy her
mother. But "ole missis" would not let her go at any price, and the
faithful chattel would not run away. Sorely disappointed, Hepsey had
been obliged to submit; but her trip was not a failure, for she
liberated several brothers and sent them triumphantly to Canada.

"You must take it, Hepsey, for I could not rest happy if I put it
away to lie idle while you can save men and women from torment with
it. I'd give it if it was my last penny, for I can help in no other
way; and if I need money, I can always earn it, thank God!" said
Christie, as Hepsey hesitated to take so much from a fellow-worker.

The thought of that investment lay warm at Christie's heart, and
never woke a regret, for well she knew that every dollar of it would
be blessed, since shares in the Underground Railroad pay splendid
dividends that never fail.

Another portion of her fortune, as she called Harry's gift, was
bestowed in wedding presents upon Lucy, who at length succeeded in
winning the heart of the owner of the "heavenly eyes" and
"distracting legs;" and, having gained her point, married him with
dramatic celerity, and went West to follow the fortunes of her lord.

The old theatre was to be demolished and the company scattered, so a
farewell festival was held, and Christie went to it, feeling more
solitary than ever as she bade her old friends a long good-bye.

The rest of the money burned in her pocket, but she prudently put it
by for a rainy day, and fell to work again when her brief vacation
was over.

Hearing of a chance for a good needle-woman in a large and
well-conducted mantua-making establishment, she secured it as a
temporary thing, for she wanted to divert her mind from that last
sad experience by entirely different employment and surroundings.
She liked to return at night to her own little home, solitary and
simple as it was, and felt a great repugnance to accept any place
where she would be mixed up with family affairs again.

So day after day she went to her seat in the workroom where a dozen