"I don't think you'll regret it. A good book will give you pleasure for a long time."
"That's so. Well, here's the money;" and the shoemaker drew out five dollars from a leather pocket-book. "Can you give me the change?"
"With pleasure."
Walter was all the more pleased at effecting this sale because it was unexpected. He had expected to sell a book at the great house he had just called at, but thought that the price of the book might deter the shoemaker, whose income probably was not large. He thought he would like to know the name of the lady with whom he had such an unpleasant experience.
"Can you tell me," he inquired, "who lives in that large house a little way up the street?"
"You didn't sell a book there, did you?" asked the shoemaker, laughing.
"No, but I got an offer of two dollars for one."
"That's just like Mrs. Belknap," returned the other. "She has the name of being the meanest woman for miles around."
"It can't be for want of money. She lives in a nice house."
"Oh, she's rich enough,—the richest woman in town. When her husband was alive—old Squire Belknap—she wasn't quite so scrimping, for he was free-handed and liberal himself; but now she's a widow, she shows out her meanness. So she offered you two dollars?"