women stepping in between near relatives. Charles Pettican is my cousin, and he is not ashamed to acknowledge it; why should he? I have always maintained myself respectable, and always shall."
"Mother," said Mehalah, interrupting this watery wash of vain twaddle, "you should not have borrowed the money of George De Witt. That was the beginning of the mischief?"
"Beginning of what mischief?"
"The beginning of our trouble."
"No, it was not; Abraham's carelessness was the beginning."
"But, mother, I repeat it, you did wrong in not producing your hidden store instead of borrowing."
"I did not borrow. I never asked George De Witt for his money; he proposed to let us have it himself."
"That is indeed true; but you should have at once refused to take it, and said it was unnecessary for us to be indebted to him, as you had the sum sufficient laid by."
"That is all very well, Mehalah, but when a generous offer is made me, why should I not accept it? Because there's still some milk of yesterday in the pan, do you decline to milk the cow to-day? I was glad of the opportunity of keeping my little savings untouched. Besides, I always thought George would make you his wife."
"I thought so too," said Mehalah in a low tone, and her face became sad and blank as before; she went off into a dream, but presently recovered herself and said, "Then, when Mrs. De Witt asked for her money, why did you not produce it, and free us of her insults and annoyance?"
"I did not want to part with my money. And it has turned out well. If I had done as you say, we should not have revived old acquaintance, and obtained the valuable assistance of Charles Pettican."
"He did not assist us."
"He did as far as he was able. He would have given us the money, had not untoward circumstances intervened. He as good as let us have the twenty pounds. That is something to be proud of—to be helped by a man whose name is honoured at the bank—at the Colchester Bank."
"But, mother, you have given me inexpressible pain!"
