“Two thousand dollars,—with interest; with accumulated interest.”
Zelda smiled in relief. She could comprehend two thousand dollars.
“And how much is the house worth?”
“About five thousand, possibly. But there is no market for such property just at present. The trend of real estate is all in another direction.”
“Then they’d better stay there, if no one would want the house. I’m sure we can’t move.”
The old man smiled patronizingly.
“You don’t understand business, my child. It is well that your affairs are in trust. I have lent a good deal of money for you, and I am proud to say that I have never lost a cent, principal or interest.”
“I’m sure you have done the best that could be done for me, but now I’m going to ask a favor. I want to carry this loan, if it has to be carried, personally. I want you to make it over to me, and then take it out of my allowance, or charge it to me in the trusteeship. I suppose I might buy it of you,—that would be more businesslike; but I haven’t more than two hundred dollars. Maybe you’d sell it to me for that, father, as a special favor?”
The old man shook his head and laughed.
“It is to guard you against just such philanthropy that I am your trustee. You had better know nothing of these things, Zee.”