"Who paid you the money?" the officer demanded.
"A lawyer for whom I have been copying—Mr. Royal Bryant; his office is at No. —— Broadway."
"Then you'll have to appeal to him. But of course it's too late now to find him at his office. Where does he live?"
"I do not know," sighed Edith, dejectedly. "I have only been with him one week, and did not once hear him mention his residence."
"That's a pity, miss," returned the officer, in a gentler tone, for he began to be moved by her beauty and distress. The condition of the invalid, who had fallen back weak and faint in her chair when he entered, also appealed to him.
"Unless you can prove your story true, and make up the grocer's loss to him, I shall be obliged to lock you up to await your examination."
Edith's face lighted hopefully.
"Do you mean that if I could pay Mr. Pincher I need not be arrested?" she eagerly inquired.
"Yes; the man only wants his money."
"Then he shall have it," Edith joyfully exclaimed. "I will give him back the change he gave me, then I will go to Mr. Bryant the first thing Monday morning and tell him about the gold-piece, when I am sure he will make it all right, and I can pay Mr. Pincher for what I bought to-night."