"It is against the rule. Besides I couldn't get it in time."
"There is a lady in Lexington Avenue owing me four dollars for sewing, but when I went there today I heard that she was out of town."
"It is very provoking to be kept out of your money when you need it so much. If we only had a little money ahead, we could get along well. Something must be done, but I don't know what."
"You might go round to Cousin Ferguson."
"I hate to ask a favor of that man, mother."
"You remember that your poor father owned a small tract of land in Colorado. When Robert Ferguson went out three months since I asked him to look after it, and ascertain whether it was of any value. As I have heard nothing from him, I am afraid it is worthless."
"I will go and ask him, mother. That is a matter of business, and I don't mind speaking to him on that subject. I will go at once."
"Perhaps he may be willing to advance a few dollars on it."
"At any rate I will go."
Robert Ferguson lived in a plain brick house on East Thirty-Ninth Street. He was a down-town merchant, and in possession of a snug competence. Mrs. Fenton was his own cousin, but he had never offered to help her in any way, though he was quite aware of the fact that she was struggling hard to support her little family. He had a son Raymond who was by no means as plain in his tastes as his father, but had developed a tendency to extravagance which augured ill for his future. He had never cared to cultivate the acquaintance of his poor cousins, and whenever he met Fred treated him with ill-concealed contempt.