"That your grandmother's a money-lender. That's her business—to lend money. The idea of her keeping you in the dark about it! That shows she knows she's doing wrong."
"Is it wrong to lend money, then?" Melina asked. Her face was expressive of astonishment and incredulity. She thought that her grandmother valued money too much to lend it; but, supposing she did lend it, where was the harm?
"It's wrong if too much is charged for it," William Jones explained, amazed at his companion's ignorance. "Ah, I see you don't understand! It's like this—but don't you let on to Mrs. Berryman that I've been talking to you about her affairs. Promise me that."
The little girl gave the required promise without hesitation, and the boy continued:
"When your grandmother lends money, it's to very poor people, and for small amounts, and when they pay it back she makes them give her a great deal more than they borrowed—double sometimes. Now that isn't right, is it?"
"No, indeed," Melina returned, "of course it's not!"
"It's what is called usury," William Jones said, "and the person who does it is a usurer—a wicked person who only cares for making money and robs the poor."
"Oh!" cried Melina, very shocked. She was thinking of the wretched-looking creatures who so frequently called to see Mrs. Berryman, and were interviewed by the old woman in the parlour. She could not doubt but that her companion had spoken the truth.
"Mother says to rob folks of their money, as your grandmother does, is as bad as being a regular pickpocket," William Jones continued; "I heard her talking about it to father only yesterday, and he agreed with her. Really, Melina, your grandmother's a dreadful old woman, and it's no wonder, is it, that people—respectable people, I mean—don't care to have anything to do with her?"
"No," Melina responded, with a choke in her voice. Her face was white and set.