“Yes; for the note which I gave Mr. Sharp. I had not the money to pay it, so they carried off my machine for security.”
“Is it possible he has been so cruel and unfeeling?” exclaimed Helen, indignantly.
“Do not blame him, my child. I am convinced that it is far from his intention to trouble or distress us. But he parted with the note a day or two since, as he himself told me, on the express condition that it should not be presented for payment, and this stipulation has been disregarded.”
“And how large was this note, papa?”
“For three hundred dollars.”
“Three hundred! I thought it was only two hundred that were lent you.”
“That was my own impression,” said Mr. Ford, with an air of perplexity. “But you know,” he continued, with a melancholy smile, “that I have no head for business. I have been so occupied in other ways. It is quite possible that I have made a mistake.”
“I am afraid,” said Helen, gravely, “that Mr. Sharp is not so much your friend as you imagine.”
“Not my friend, Helen? He offered to lend me this money voluntarily, without any expectation of immediate return. I am certain that when he hears of this affair, he will hasten to make it right.”
“Perhaps I do him wrong,” said Helen, thoughtfully, “and indeed I do not know what good it would do him to annoy us. But, papa, there is one thing I haven’t told you,—a piece of great good news. I have had my salary doubled at the theatre. I shall earn twelve dollars a week. Think of that, papa.”