“Mary, give me the baby, and cut him some bread and spread it thin,” said the superintendent in quiet despair.
“Most high-minded and condescending lady,” exclaimed MacDaly, in a burst of ostentatious generosity, “I will pay you nobly for your entertainment. If you or your worthy and estimable helpmate, Mary, could change this money——” and bowing elegantly he held out to her the bill that he had just received.
She pounced upon it. “Ten dollars! Derrick MacDaly, where did you get this?”
He informed her that it was a present.
“Now, I’ll not believe that,” she said firmly, “till you tell me where it came from.”
In great dejection of spirit at the conceit which had made him show his gift to her, he mentioned Colonel Armour’s name.
“It was kind in him to give it to you,” said the matron quietly pocketing it; “and I am sure he expected you to make good use of it. I shall give it to Miss Turner to buy you some new clothes.”
MacDaly immediately went down upon his knees, begging and praying her to restore the money to him.
“I will do nothing of the sort,” she said. “You would drink it away; and if I buy you clothes you’ll keep them; for that much may be said in your favor, MacDaly, however drunk you are, you never allow anyone to cheat you out of your clothing. Get up and take your food.”
MacDaly ate the bread and drank the waters of affliction that evening. He would not be able to go to town again the next day and have a jollification as he had planned to do, and with melancholy tears dropping down his cheeks, he sat watching Mary tidy her kitchen and afterward put on her hat and jacket to go for a stroll with her soldier lover, who was waiting for her by the Pavilion entrance.