"That is more than I have had for years," gasped Mrs. Wittleworth.
"Very well; I will give you a check for that sum; or I will invest it for you in the best paying stocks I can find."
"You are too good! I did not expect this!" exclaimed the poor woman, wiping the tears from her eyes.
"I shall do no more than my duty—what I ought to have done before," replied the banker, magnanimously. "And, by the way, it would be as well for you to sign a paper, so as to set this business at rest, and prevent Fitz from annoying me," said the banker, as he took down his check-book, and shuffled the papers about the desk with assumed indifference.
"What paper am I to sign?" asked Mrs. Wittleworth, beginning to open her eyes.
"I mean a quitclaim deed on the block of stores; but of course that has nothing to do with the ten thousand dollars I am to pay you."
Mrs. Wittleworth knew what a quitclaim deed was. It was a deed by which she relinquished all her right, title, and interest in the block of stores.
"I think I will not sign it to-day, Mr. Checkynshaw," said she, rather fearfully.
The banker urged her in vain. Fitz had warned her against such a step, and she had more confidence in Fitz's judgment at that moment than ever before.
"Very well; I will have the deed drawn, and fill out the check ready for you the next time you call," added the banker, more disappointed than his manner indicated.