"I wish we could do something about it," said Jennie, one day where the three children were sitting in a row on the warm sands.
"About what?" asked Dorothy.
"About Miss Eloise. You know she told us about the mortgage on their little house. I asked papa to [55]tell me what a mortgage was. At first I thought it was something that had been built on and that had to be lifted off in some way, but it isn't that at all; it is money that has to be paid before they can own the house all themselves. I asked papa if he couldn't give them the money, but he said it would never do to offer it, for both Miss Eloise and Miss Newman were very proud and would much rather earn the money themselves even if it took a long time."
"But Miss Eloise can't earn money; she is an invalid," put in Edna.
"I know, but I wish she could: Papa said I needn't worry about it, as the mortgage was not so very big, and the money they had to pay on it every year did not amount to such a great deal, but I know from what Miss Eloise said that she would like it to be paid; she said she would feel ever so much more comfortable."
"Oh, dear, how in the world can anyone ever understand about such things as interest and mortgages and all that?" said Dorothy. "I don't believe I ever shall get through fractions, let alone interest."
"You see," Jennie went on, "Miss Eloise isn't like a Home for the Friendless or anything like that, or we could have a bazar for her."
"Of course she isn't a Friendless," said Edna with indignation.
[56] "That's just what I said she wasn't, and that is what makes it hard to do things. I am so fond of her that I would like to have her get anything she wants."
"She tells the most lovely stories," said Edna thoughtfully, "but the trouble is, she hasn't the strength to write them down."