“You professed to be my friend, and were willing to accommodate me.”
“Circumstances alter cases. I have different information now.”
“What information have you?” I demanded.
“I am not at liberty to say. I never betray any man’s confidence. You are living beyond your means. I am willing to do anything that’s fair, but I must have the money or the security.”
“I’ll see you after bank hours to-day.”
“Perhaps you will,” said he, leaving the bank very abruptly.
Who had been talking to this man? I never knew, but I am forced to acknowledge now, what I did not believe then, that his information was correct. I was vexed and disconcerted, and as the forenoon wore away, and my wrath abated, I concluded to give him the mortgage on my household furniture. This matter was so absorbing that I hardly thought of the four hundred dollars I owed the bank till the memorandum I had put in the drawer attracted my attention. I do not know why I tore it up and threw it into the waste-basket, but I did so.
Mr. Bristlebach was very gentle towards me; so was the cashier; and I was confident that no one suspected my cash was four hundred short. The late inquiry into the condition of my department, instead of securing the bank, had opened the way for my first irregularity. I went on with my duties until about one o’clock, when I was not a little astonished to see Biddy come into the bank. My heart rose into my mouth. I was afraid that something had happened to Lilian, and that she was dead or very sick. But Biddy only handed me a note, instead of making the scene I had anticipated.
The note appeared to have been very hastily written, and was not in Lilian’s usually careful style. My name was scrawled hastily on the envelope. It occurred to me that Smith might have disappointed her, but I feared something worse than this. I tore open the note. The letter covered two pages, and it was evidently written under great excitement. I was alarmed, and hardly dared to read it, lest it should inform me that one of her family was dead.
I did read it, and it went on to tell me that, while she was away at Smith’s, a deputy sheriff had come to the house and attached all the furniture, and left a man there who called himself a “keeper.” She had talked with this man, and he had told her Mr. Buckleton was the person who had caused the goods to be attached. These were the material statements of the letter, to which Lilian added that the matter was “horrid;” that she never felt so strangely before in her life. She wanted to know if I really owed Mr. Buckleton a thousand dollars.