"Then give me my deed. The security is good, and I'm not willing to pay more than seven per cent."
Old Crowl looked a moment at her resolute face, beautiful even in its pallor and pain, and a new thought seemed to strike him.
"Well, well," said he, with an awkward show of gallantry, "one can't do business with a pretty girl as with a man. You shall make your own terms."
"I wish to make no terms whatever," said Edith, frigidly. "I only expect what is right and just."
"And I'm the man that'll do what's right and just when appealed to by the fair unfortunate," said Mr. Crowl, with a wave of his hand.
Edith's only response to this sentiment was a frown, and an impatient tapping of the floor with her foot.
"Now, see how I trust you," he continued, filling out a check. "There is the money. I'll draw up the papers, and you may sign them at your leisure. Only just put your name to this receipt, which gives the nature of our transaction;" and, in a scrawling hand, he soon stated the case.
It was with strong misgivings that Edith took the money and gave her signature, but she did not see what else to do, and she was already very weary.
"You may call again the first time you are in the village, and by that time I'll have things fixed up. You see now what it is to have a friend in need."
Edith's only reply was a bow, and she hastened to the bank. The cashier looked curiously at her, and as he saw Crowl's check, smiled a little significant smile which she did not like; but, at her request, he placed the amount, and what was left from the second sale of jewelry, to her credit, and gave her a small check-book.