Florence rose. Her feet seemed weighted with lead. She unlocked her drawer, took out the manuscript, and nearly flung it at Edith's head. She restrained herself, however, and stood with it in her hand looking as undecided as a girl could look.
"You tempt me mightily," she said; "why do you tempt me?"
"To get money for what is such splendid work," said Miss Franks, with a gay laugh. "I am glad I tempt you, for you want money, you poor, proud, queer girl. I like you—I like you much, but you must just let me help you over this crisis. Give it to me, my dear."
She nearly snatched the manuscript from Florence, and thrust it into a small leather bag which she wore at her side.
"Tom shall tell you what he thinks of it, and now ta! ta!"
CHAPTER XVIII.
A VESTIGE OF HOPE.
Miss Franks was heard tripping downstairs as fast as her feet could carry her, and Florence covered her face with her hands.