All these reflections passed through Ethel's mind while Mr. Beckford and his friend were concluding their bargains in the outer room. As they turned to go out, Ethel had made up her mind what to do.
"Mr. Beckford," said she, going to the door, "will you please to come here?"
Mr. Beckford did as she desired.
"You paid me too much money last night," she continued, hastily producing her piece, as though afraid her courage might fail. "You gave me this quarter-eagle instead of a quarter of a dollar, and I did not see it till I got home."
She placed the coin in his hand, feeling as much relieved as though she had dropped a burden of a hundred pounds.
"Oh yes," said Mr. Beckford, putting the gold piece in his pocket and producing the proper change, "I missed it last evening, and intended to call in the course of the day and inquire about it, for I felt quite sure I must have paid it to you."
Ethel felt as though a pit of destruction had yawned at her feet and closed again. "Oh, if he had come after it and I had spent it," said she to herself, "what would have become of me?"
"I am much obliged to you for saving me the walk, however," Mr. Beckford continued. "What do you see here that pleases you?"
"Oh, this chair, sir," answered Ethel, blushing more and more, but feeling immensely relieved in the midst of her shame; "it used to be my mother's, and I was wishing I could buy it back, but I shall not have money enough to do that and get the other things that I want."
Mr. Beckford was slow of speech, but quick of sight and apprehension; he had wondered at Ethel's confusion, and now at once the whole matter came to his mind.