“This shabby suit, with half a dollar, constitutes all my worldly possessions.”
“Supposing it to be so, what is that to me?”
“Can’t you help me a little?”
The squire’s mouth tightened, as it always did when there was an attack on his purse-strings. He seldom gave away money, unless he thought it would help him in some way, and he felt even more than usually unwilling to do so at a time when, owing to Harry’s obduracy, he was threatened with a serious loss. No poorer time could have been selected by his cousin for his application than this.
“I can do nothing for you,” he said, coldly.
“I don’t mean you to give me money,” said Brandon. “I only want an advance of thirty or forty dollars, which I will faithfully repay you with interest.”
Squire Turner laughed scornfully.
“What security can you offer?” he asked.
“None at all, except my word.”