Edith started to her feet in mingled indignation and alarm, then grew deadly pale when she observed that one of the intruders was an officer, and the other the grocer of whom she had made her recent purchases.
"What is the meaning of this intrusion?" she demanded, trying in vain to keep her tones steady and her heart from sinking with a terrible dread.
"There! Mr. Officer; that is the girl who passed the counterfeit money at my store," the grocer exclaimed, his face crimson with anger.
Edith uttered a smothered cry of anguish, then sank weakly back into her chair, as the man went forward to her side, laid his hand upon her shoulder, and remarked:
"You are my prisoner, miss."
CHAPTER II.
A STANCH FRIEND MAKES A VAIN APPEAL.
Beautiful Edith Allandale and her gentle, refined mother had been suddenly hurled from affluence down into the very depths of poverty.
Only two years previous to the opening of our story the world had been as bright to them as to any of the petted favorites of fortune who dwell in the luxurious palaces on Fifth avenue.