“Very well,” said Lucille haughtily, and she opened her purse and placed the schedule of debts on the dominie's desk. She arose and David also. “I'll tell you plainly, Mr. Dean, that I think you are foolish.”
“Not foolish but, perhaps, reluctant to accept personal charity,” said Dean.
Lucille was not stupid, but she looked into his eyes some time before she spoke.
“Oh, it is that way, is it!” she said cheerfully, “Yes, I understand! But that is quite beside the point I had in mind. I did not want you to feel that at all! Of course you would feel that! It is quite right. But we can arrange all that very easily, Mr. Dean; we can make it a loan—there is no reason why you should not accept a loan as well as any other man. I'll lend you the money—temporarily—and when your increase of salary comes you can pay it back. With interest, if you wish.”
“If I could make the payments quarterly, on my salary days—” hesitated David.
“Certainly!” cooed Lucille, delighted to have won her point. “It can be that way.”
“I should like the transaction to be regular; a note with interest. Seven per cent is usual, I believe.”
“Certainly. You see,” she beamed, “how easy it is for reasonable people to arrange things when they understand what they are trying to get at! And now I must go; you are starved. I will come again this afternoon; I will bring you the money and the note. You see we are quite businesslike, Mr. Dean. Well, I have to be; I manage my own affairs. I'll just run in a moment to see 'Thusia before I go. And—I almost forgot it—congratulations!”
“Congratulations?”
“Alice! She told me! I am so glad!”