Heiress

“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.

Chapter Three (#ulink_3f7ecc95-01da-537b-bc48-84d9ee3cfd9b)

When she reached her room, Allison kicked off her shoes, dropped down in the lounge chair and pulled the lever to elevate her feet. She welcomed this evening alone to sort out her thoughts and impressions. Right now, her mind was a hodgepodge of crystal chandeliers, opulent furniture, cut crystal, chintz wall hangings and leaded-glass windows. How could she get past all that glitter and grapple with the real issues that confronted her?

It would be easy to succumb to the worries and frustrations of coping with Page Publishing Company, working with an investment broker to keep from losing her uncle’s money and supervising numerous employees, as well as living in a fabulous home that plunged her mentally into the nineteenth century. To be so overwhelmed, in fact, that she could forget about the important things in life. At this point, she was more worried about losing her identity and her purpose in life by becoming Miss New Rich than she was about managing a million-dollar business.

God, she prayed aloud, I can’t cope with this alone. Show me how I can bring myself down to earth when I tend to lose sight of my eternal destiny.

Allison reached for the Bible on the table beside her and turned on the table lamp. For the next hour, she pored over the Scriptures, searching for the doctrines she must heed to stay on the right path, and she was amazed at the abundance of Bible passages that dealt with her immediate concern—how she could balance an abundance of worldly goods with the riches of God’s blessings.

“Remember the Lord your God, for it is He who gives you the ability to produce wealth.”

Had her uncle followed this precept? Did he recognize the power of God in his life? How she wished she knew more about her benefactor.

“Cast but a glance at riches, and they are gone, for they will surely sprout wings.”

A good proverb to remember. Though she desired to be heavenly minded, if she didn’t keep her feet solidly on the earth and tend to important matters of business, her riches would certainly take wing.

“The abundance of a rich man permits him no sleep.”

How true! She hadn’t enjoyed a restful night’s sleep since she had learned about her inheritance.

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth.”

Ah! There was the principle that concerned her. The rich young ruler had been told to sell all he had and give the proceeds to the poor as a prerequisite for discipleship. Did that principle apply to Allison Sayre, too? She had wanted to sell everything, but legally she couldn’t. She tried to think of rich people who had also been faithful followers, and she considered many wealthy entrepreneurs such as the Carnegies and the Penneys who gave vast sums for benevolent purposes. Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea had both been rich, yet they weren’t told to give up their wealth. Apparently there was a need for rich people in God’s kingdom, but it wasn’t easy she surmised when she read, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God.”

I’m getting discouraged, God—all I can find are warnings to those who are rich. I gained this wealth through noeffort of my own. I don’t even want the responsibility of so many riches, but since I do have it, can’t You give me some assurance that it was Your providence that brought me where I am now? Surely there are some Scriptures to encourage me.

Looking a little further, Allison came upon the passage “For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what he does not have.” She suspected that Paul had written those words to people who were poor, but couldn’t it apply to her, as well? She was willing to use her riches to advance God’s kingdom and to benefit others. Shouldn’t that count for something? Her greatest comfort came when she read Paul’s admonition in his letter to the Ephesians: “work, doing something useful with his own hands that he may have something to share with those in need.” She had often fretted in the past when she lacked the funds to contribute abundantly to worthy causes—missionaries in foreign countries, those afflicted by natural disasters, the plight of the poor in the city of Chicago. Now she would have money to give to charitable causes. What would she do with the opportunity?

Deciding that she must stop anticipating the future and deal with individual problems as they arose, Allison read one more verse: “I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.” Did she need any more assurance than that? She closed the Bible and prepared to go for the evening meal. After the tasty lunch she had eaten and the pie Minerva had served a few hours ago, Allison didn’t want a large meal. Rather than eat in the dining room downstairs, she leafed through the visitor’s guide on the desk and decided to go to a pizza house a few blocks away.

She freshened her makeup, drew a comb through her shoulder-length hair and telephoned the concierge to order a taxi for her. The elevators were crowded and the taxi was waiting by the time she got downstairs, but within ten minutes she was entering the restaurant. While she was studying the menu on the wall behind the counter, she heard her name.

“How are you tonight, Miss Sayre?”

Benton Lockhart was standing in line behind her.

“I’m fine, but puzzling over what to order. I’ve eaten more today than I usually do, and I’m not very hungry.”

“You might want to try the buffet, which features a variety of pizza, several salads and a small selection of desserts. You can choose as much or as little as you want. That’s what I have when I eat here.”

Taking his advice, Allison ordered the buffet, and as she paid the cashier, wondering if she should be so bold, she said, “If you’re dining alone, Mr. Lockhart, would you mind if I join you? Perhaps we could talk a bit about Page Publishing after we’ve finished.”