"Are you aware of the amount of this claim?" asked the banker, nervously.
"I don't know, exactly."
"I suppose not," said Mr. Checkynshaw, pausing to reflect. "I don't wish to bring Marguerite home till her education is completed, and this thing may cause me some annoyance."
"I'm sure I don't want to annoy you," pleaded Mrs. Wittleworth.
"Perhaps you do not; but Fitz does. If you refuse to be a party to this suit, of course he can do nothing. He has no rights yet in the premises himself, and he is under age."
"I think myself the matter ought to be settled up somehow or other," replied Mrs. Wittleworth, timidly. "I am so poor I can hardly keep soul and body together, and Fitz has lost his place."
"I will give him his place, at ten dollars a week. I will see that you have a good house, properly furnished, and a sufficient income to live on. If I had known that you were so badly off, I should have done something for you before. Why didn't you come to me?"
"I don't like to ask favors; besides, we have been able to get along till times came on so hard this winter that I couldn't get any work."
"I don't wish to be bothered with this thing, and be compelled to go to France in the middle of the winter after Marguerite. Fitz saw that he could annoy me, and he has taken this means to vent his spite upon me. But the suit depends upon you. He can do nothing without you. Mr. Choate will have nothing to do with it. He doesn't take cases of this kind; but Fitz can find some unprincipled lawyer who will undertake the case, and compel me to derange my plans."
"Could you show me some letters from Marguerite, or some bill you have paid for her board or tuition?"