"The money wasn't bad, after all mamma," she said, when the man had departed; "they didn't make the slightest objection to taking it at the grocery. I believe you were right, and that the pawnbroker did not want to give up the watch, so took that way to get rid of me. But I will have it next week, and I shall have a policeman to go with me to get it."
"Did you tell the grocer anything about the trouble you have had?" the invalid inquired.
"No, mamma; I simply offered the coin in payment for what I bought, and he took it without a word," Edith replied, but flushing slightly, for she felt a trifle guilty about passing the money after what had occurred.
"I almost wish you had," said her mother.
"I thought I would, at first, but—I knew we must have something to eat, and fuel to keep us warm between now and Monday, and so I allowed the grocer to take it upon his own responsibility," the young girl responded, with a desperate little glitter in her lovely eyes.
Her companion made no reply, although there was a shade of anxiety upon her wan face.
Edith, removing her things, bustled about, and soon had a cheerful fire and an appetizing meal prepared.
Her spirits appeared to rise with the temperature of the room, and she chatted cheerfully while about her work, telling a number of interesting incidents that had occurred in connection with her employment during the week.
"Now come, mamma," she remarked, at length; "let me help you into your chair and wheel you up to the table, for supper is ready, and I am sure you will enjoy these delicious oysters, which I have cooked as you like them best."
Mother and daughter were chatting pleasantly, enjoying their meal, when the door of their room was thrown rudely open and two men strode into their presence.