"Oh no,—no, of course not, I—I understand, it was—just a—business transaction."
"Ah!—that's it,—a business transaction!" nodded Adam, "So you'll put the money a one side to help pay off the mortgage, eh, Miss Anthea?"
"Yes."
"If the 'ops comes up to what they promise to come up to,—you'll be able to get rid of Old Grimes—for good an' all, Miss Anthea."
"Yes, Adam."
"An' you be quite easy in your mind, now, Miss Anthea—about keepin' the money?"
"Quite!—Thank you, Adam—for—telling me. You can go now."
"Why then—Good-night! Miss Anthea, mam,—the mortgage is as good as paid,—there ain't no such 'ops nowhere near so good as our'n be. An'—you're quite free o' care, an' 'appy 'earted, Miss Anthea?"
"Quite—Oh quite, Adam!"
But when Adam's heavy tread had died away,—when she was all alone, she behaved rather strangely for one so free of care, and happy-hearted. Something bright and glistening splashed upon the paper before her, the pencil slipped from her fingers, and, with a sudden, choking cry, she swayed forward, and hid her face in her hands.