"Norah, what made you do it?" Marion exclaimed when she heard the story. "Surely, it could have been arranged."
"I don't know. It popped into my head when I saw him. It won't do any harm to get some of his rusty dollars into circulation. I almost believe he will do it."
And she was right. Mr. Goodman gave her a check for a thousand dollars, and, moreover, suggested that if Miss Sarah did not need the whole amount at present, he could invest several hundred of it advantageously. And this was the kindest thing Giant Despair had done for many a year. As for Norah's scheme for paying him interest, he only laughed at that.
Poor Miss Sarah was too ill to understand more than that the bond was sold. She was feverishly anxious till she could put the money for his debts into Wayland's hands. After this she grew rapidly worse, and the outcome began to seem doubtful.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTH
WAYLAND
Wayland blamed himself bitterly. He could not forget the touch of those burning fingers pressing the money into his hand. He tried to refuse it, but his aunt whispered: "Take it, dear. It is all right. I shall not be happy till you do." After this he had been sent from the room and not allowed to see her again.
Old Mrs. Leigh, bemoaning Sarah's hard lot and accusing herself of selfishness, unconsciously enlightened him as to the true state of affairs. Wayland sincerely loved his aunt,—the only mother he had ever known,—and he realized with shame how unworthy had been his attitude toward her of late. While she had been struggling to make a home for him and her old aunt, thinking and spending for him till there was nothing left for herself, he, absorbed in his own affairs, had been disdainful and critical, fretted by her habit of laughing at things, annoyed by her style of dress.
And this money. He guessed where it came from. She must have sold a bond left to her by a friend some years ago, which she called her rainy-day legacy. He fiercely promised himself he would pay it back.