“Yes, Dr. Kent; I don't want any of his charity, and I'll tell him so.”
“I am afraid, Herbert, that you are giving way to your pride.”
“But isn't it a proper pride, doctor?”
“I hardly know what to say, Herbert. You must remember, however, that, as you are left quite unprovided for, even this small sum may be of use to you.”
“It isn't the smallness of the sum that I mind,” said Herbert. “If Uncle Benjamin had written a kind letter, or showed the least feeling in it for me, or for—for mother [his voice faltered a moment], I would have accepted it thankfully. But I couldn't accept money thrown at me in that way. He didn't want to give it to me, I am sure, and wouldn't if he hadn't felt obliged to.”
Dr. Kent paced the room thoughtfully. He respected Herbert's feelings, but he saw that it was not wise for him to indulge them. He was in a dependent situation, and it was to be feared that he would have much to suffer in time to come from the coldness and selfishness of the world.
“I will tell you what to do, Herbert,” he said, after a while. “You can accept this money as a loan, and repay it when you are able.”
“With interest?”
“Yes, with interest, if you prefer it.”
“I shall be willing to accept it on those terms,” said Herbert; “but I want my uncle to understand it.”