“Ay? how can that be? You see, I’ve been a bit of a fool again, and put my name to a bill, and now it comes to paying; and your mother has got to part with her savings, that’s the worst of it, and even they won’t quite make things even. We wanted a hundred and ten pounds: your mother has ninety-two, and I have none to spare in the bank; and she thinks that you have some savings.”

“Oh yes; I have more than four-and-twenty pounds. I thought you would come, father, so I put it in my bag. See! beautiful white notes and gold.”

Mary took out the folded money from her reticule and put it into her father’s hand.

“Well, but how⁠—we only want eighteen⁠—here, put the rest back, child⁠—but how did you know about it?” said Caleb, who, in his unconquerable indifference to money, was beginning to be chiefly concerned about the relation the affair might have to Mary’s affections.

“Fred told me this morning.”

“Ah! Did he come on purpose?”