"That's too bad! Abel is a mean, conceited little upstart, who don't treat me half decent, though he would more than once have gone without a meal but for the help I gave his mother."
"Has Mrs. Lane refused to loan you money to rebuild your shop?"
"Yes; she won't think of it. She says I must have been careless, or the fire wouldn't have happened. It hasn't done much good to come to Portville. The only pleasure I've got out of it is meeting you."
"Thank you, Mr. Crane. I wish your sister were more like you."
"I'm a rough man, Gerald. There ain't much polish about me, but nobody can charge me with being mean and ungrateful. Some time I hope you'll come and see me."
"Thank you, Mr. Crane. It may come about some day. Is there no one in your town who will lend you money to rebuild your shop?"
"No; there ain't much money in Hillsdale. It's just a common country town, and the people are mostly farmers. I don't know what to do." And a look of sadness overspread his rugged countenance.
"You are no worse off than I am, Mr. Crane. I have lost an indulgent father, and am left dependent upon a woman I cannot like or respect."
"It does seem hard."
"But I have faith that some time things will come out for the best."