"Like myself, she is related to others that drag her down," he thought, "and she seems to have no friend or brother to protect or warn her. Even if this over-dressed young fool is her lover, if she could have seen him prostrate on the bar-room floor, she would never look at him again. If she would I would never look at her."
His romantic nature became impressed with the idea that he might become in some sense her unknown knight and protector, and keep her from marrying a man that would sink to what his father was. Therefore he passed the house as often as he could in hope that there might be some opportunity of seeing her.
To poor Edith troubles thickened fast, for, as we have seen, the brunt of everything came on her. Early on the forenoon of Monday the carpenter appeared, asking with a hard, determined tone for his money, adding with satire:
"I suppose it's all right of course. People who want everything done at once must expect to pay promptly."
"Your bill is much too large—much larger than you gave us any reason to suppose it would be," said Edith.
"I've only charged you regular rates, miss, and you put me to no little inconvenience besides."
"That's not the point. It's double the amount you gave us to understand it would be, and if you should deduct the damage caused by your delay it would greatly reduce it. I do not feel willing that this bill should be paid as it stands."
"Very well then," said the man, coolly rising. "You threatened me with a lawyer; I'll let my lawyer settle with you."
"Edith," said Mrs. Allen majestically, "bring my checkbook."
"Don't pay it, mother. He can't make us pay such a bill in view of the fact that he left our roof open in the rain."