“You are kind, and I am glad to think I have found a friend when I need one most. But I could not accept stolen money. It would be as bad as if I, too, were a thief.”
“I am not a thief! That is, I won’t be any more.”
“And you will give up your plan of robbing my uncle?”
“Yes, I will; though I don’t know what my guv’nor will say. He’ll half murder me, I expect. He’ll be sure to cut up rough.”
“Do right, Dodger, whatever happens. Promise me that you will never steal again?”
“There’s my hand, miss—I promise. Nobody ever talked to me like you. I never thought much about bein’ respectable, and growin’ up to be somebody, but if you take an interest in me, I’ll try hard to do right.”
At this moment, Mr. Linden, clad in a long morning gown, and holding a candle in his hand, entered the room, and started in astonishment when he saw Florence clasping the hand of one whose appearance led him to stamp as a young rough.
“Shameless girl!” he exclaimed, in stern reproof. “So this is the company you keep when you think I am out of the way!”
Chapter VI.
A Tempest.
The charge was so strange and unexpected that Florence was overwhelmed. She could only murmur: