Mr. Hinchford's face assumed that perplexed look to which it had become prone of late years. Still he was not likely to be very much troubled—it was only about Mattie!
"I am going away from here," Mattie explained in a hurried manner; "Mr. Wesden will tell you the whole story, and it's not to my credit, looking at it in his light. You'll believe it, perhaps?" she added wistfully.
"Mr. Wesden is not accustomed to exaggeration, Mattie; but I will not believe anything that is wrong of you."
"I hope you will not, however proof may seem to go against me," was the sad remark; "he thinks I'm wrong, and I dare not explain part, and cannot explain the rest, and so I'm going away this morning.
"This morning!"
Mr. Hinchford took a good haul of his stock at this.
"He don't wish me to stop, and I would not if he did," said Mattie, proudly, "so we are both of one mind about my going. And now, sir," holding out both hands to him, "try and think the best of me—never mind the desk this morning, that was nothing, remember—do think well of one who will never forget you, and all the kindness you have shown me since I have been here."
"Mattie, let me go down, and see if I can't set all this straight," said the old gentleman, moved by Mattie's appeal.
"It could not be done, sir," said Mattie in reply; "you're very kind, but I know how much better it is to go. Why, sir, I have a great hope that they'll think better of me when I am gone!"
"But—but——"