"Yes," said Mrs. Berry, slowly. "But I hardly know that it is right to say that he manages it for me."
"Why not?" asked John, perplexed by his aunt's manner, which seemed to him strange.
"I will tell you, John," said his aunt. "When Mr. Berry died, I thought he owned the stock clear, and had no debts; but day before yesterday Mr. Hall called in, and showed me a note for two thousand dollars, signed by Mr. Berry. I don't suppose the stock is worth more than three thousand. Of course that makes a very great difference in my circumstances. In fact, it will leave me only a thousand dollars, at the utmost, to support my poor children. I don't know what I shall do." And the poor woman, whose nerves had been shaken by her grief, burst into tears.
"Didn't my uncle own this building, then?" asked John.
"No, he never owned it. He hired it at a low rent from Mr. Mansfield, one of the selectmen, and a rich man."
"Can't you keep up the store, aunt? Will not that give income enough to support the family?"
"But for this note, I could. But if I have to pay that, it will leave only a third of the store belonging to me. Then out of the profits I must pay the rent, the wages of a salesman and a boy, before I can get anything for myself. You see, John, there isn't much prospect."
"Yes," said John, thoughtfully. "It doesn't look very bright. You say, aunt, that uncle never mentioned this note to you?"
"He never mentioned a syllable about it."
"Did he generally mention his affairs to you?"