“No,” said Frank warmly; “she promised you, sir, that she would not. I, too, promised you that while my affairs were in such a state I would not hold communication with her. We have kept our words, sir, even as we intend to keep those upon another point. I have neither spoken to nor heard from May for months.”
“Only gone to church to sit and stare at her,” said John Richards quietly.
“It were hard indeed, sir, if that poor gratification were not afforded me,” said Frank. “But now, sir, pray hear me—pray listen to me. Think of the misery you would inflict.”
“Stop now, and hear me,” said the old money-lender quietly, though his lips quivered with pain. “Your name is Frank; now be frank with me. You are at the present time penniless, are you not?”
Frank had hard work to suppress a groan as he bowed his head and thought of how, had he been given time, he could have paid every creditor in full, and had to spare, instead of his poor assets being more than half swallowed up in costs.
“You came here expecting a stormy interview, did you not?”
“I did!” said Frank.
“To be sure! and now I am going to show you that old Grab-all is not so black a devil as he is painted.”
“Good heavens, sir!” cried Frank joyfully.
“Stop a bit—stop a bit—don’t be rash, young man; for perhaps I am not going to favour you in the way you may expect, though I do feel disposed to help you. Now look here: I suppose five hundred pounds would be a great help to you just now?”