Craven."
"Oh, no! my dear, I don't forget Mr. Craven, or his clerks either,"
responded Miss Blake, as, still cloaked and bonneted, she tore open Mr.
Craven's envelope.
"I am to take back an answer, I think," said I.
"You are, I see," she answered. "He's getting mighty particular, is
William Craven. I suppose he thinks I am going to cheat him out of his
paltry ten pounds. Ten pounds, indeed! and what is that, I should like
to know, to us in our present straits! Why, I had more than twice ten
yesterday from a man on whom we have no claim--none whatever--who,
without asking, offered it in our need."
"Aunt," said Miss Elmsdale, warningly.
"If you will kindly give me your acknowledgment, Miss Blake, I should
like to be getting back to Buckingham Street," I said. "Mr. Craven will
wonder at my absence."
"Not a bit of it," retorted Miss Blake. "You and Mr. Craven understand
each other, or I am very much mistaken; but here is the receipt, and
good day to you."
I should have merely bowed my farewell, but that Miss Elmsdale stood up
valiantly.
"Good-bye, Mr. Patterson," she said, holding out her dainty hand, and
letting it lie in mine while she spoke. "I am very much obliged to you.
I can never forget what you have done and dared in our interests.
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