But, although he laughed, her master uttered no articulate sound until she had ended her statement, by which time his amusement had changed to admiration. Another minute still passed, however, before he knew what answer to make.
“But, my good girl,” he began, “I do not see that you have anything to blame yourself for—at least, not anything worth blaming yourself about. After so long a time, the money found was certainly your own, and you could do what you pleased with it.”
“But, sir, I did not wait at all to see how it had happened, or whether it might not be claimed. I believe, indeed, that I hurried away at once, lest anyone should know I had it. I ran to spend it at once, so for whatever happened afterward I was to blame. Then, when it was too late, I learned that the money was yours!”
“What did you do with it, if I may ask?” said the master.
“I gave it to a school-fellow of mine who had married a helpless sort of husband and was in want of food.”
“I am afraid you did not help them much by that,” murmured the banker.
“Please, sir, I knew no other way to help them; and the money seemed to have been given me for them. I soon came to know better, and have been sorry ever since. I knew that I had no right to give it away as soon as I knew whose it was.”
She ceased, but still held out the note to him.
Mr. Macintosh stood again silent, and made no movement toward taking it.
“Please, sir, take the money, and forgive me,” pleaded Annie. “And please, sir, please do not say anything about it to anybody. Even my mother does not know.”