"I leave that to you," replied he.
"The gold is pure," returned the man, "but it is very thin; I cannot give more than three guineas. Though the workmanship is fine, it is not in the fashion of England, and will be of no benefit to me till melted."
"You may have it," said Thaddeus, hardly able to articulate, while the gift of his mother was passing into a stranger's hand.
The man directly paid him down the money, and the count, with a bursting heart, darted out of the shop.
Mrs. Robson was shutting up the windows of her little parlor, when he hastily passed her and glided up the stairs. Hardly believing her senses, she hastened after him, and just got into the room as he drank off a glass of water.
"Good lack! sir, where has your honor been? I thought you were all the while in the house, and I would not come near, though I was very uneasy; and there has been poor William crying himself blind, because you desired to be left alone."
Thaddeus was unprepared to make an answer. He was in hopes to have gotten in as he had stolen out, undiscovered; for he determined not to agitate her too kind mind by the history of his loss. He would not allow her to know anything of his embarrassments, from a sentiment of justice, as well as from that sensitive pride which all his sufferings and philosophy could not wholly subdue.
"I have been taking a walk, Mrs. Robson."
"Dear heart! I thought when you staggered back, and looked so ill, after you brought in William, you had over-walked yourself."
"No; I fancy my fears had a little discomposed me; and I hoped that more air might do me good; I tried it, and it has: but I am grieved for having alarmed you."