“Oh—I took a little liberty with our friend Mr. Buxton’s name; and wrote it down to a receipt—that was all.”
Mrs. Browne’s face showed that the light came but slowly into her mind.
“But that’s forgery—is not it?” asked she at length, in terror.
“People call it so,” said Edward; “I call it borrowing from an old friend, who was always willing to lend.”
“Does he know?—is he angry?” asked Mrs. Browne.
“Yes, he knows; and he blusters a deal. He was working himself up grandly at first. Maggie! I was getting rarely frightened, I can tell you.”
“Has he been here?” said Mrs. Browne, in bewildered fright.
“Oh, yes! he and Maggie have been having a long talk, while I was hid in the china-closet. I would not go over that half-hour again for any money. However, he and Maggie came to terms, at last.”
“No, Edward, we did not!” said Maggie, in a low quivering voice.
“Very nearly. She’s to give up her engagement, and then he will let me off.”