“Have you offered any for publication?”
“No; I have neither stamps nor courage.”
“May I keep this?” asked Margaret, referring to the one she had just read.
“Certainly, if you like it.”
“I do, very much; and now let me see the contract and receipts.”
Margaret found that the original bill and contract called for one hundred and fifty dollars, but that the expense of making mortgage and the interest had been compounded until, although one hundred and seventy-five dollars had been paid, it still called for a balance of five dollars, which remaining unpaid, permitted foreclosure and forcible seizure of the furniture.
“A Shylock’s bond!” exclaimed Margaret indignantly. “It is so manifestly unjust that I feel sure there is a law somewhere to cover it.”
“We knew at the time the goods were bought that it was an unjust contract, but we had no money to pay down, and what could we do? It is just the way the world takes advantage of necessity. The trite maxim that ‘sentiment and business have nothing in common’ you’ll hear on the lips of every man in trade.”
“We shall hear how justice agrees with business, then,” said Margaret, rising. “I should like to put the bitter dose of equitable payment for these crimes against common humanity, between the teeth of these sharks. At any rate, if there is no justice for such despicable creatures it is time it was known.”
“Humanity has a grand defender in you,” said the sick woman, looking admiringly at Margaret’s flushed cheeks and flashing eyes.