class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="[46]"/> writ. He assured me the money was going by the next post," Mr. Standish went on blankly.

"He's an old cheat," said Meg, with scornful directness of speech.

"What is to be done? I have no money, Meg," said the young man, with a wretched flicker of a smile.

"Pawn your watch and chain—they're real gold; they're big and heavy; they'll raise the money," said Meg, with her usual unhesitancy.

The journalist flushed red. "I can't, Meg!" He drew the watch out of his pocket. It was a large hunting watch, that had been presented to the rector, his father. Inside the lid the names of the donors were inscribed in minute characters. "I can't, Meg," he repeated, looking at it and shaking his head. "A token of affectionate gratitude, a testimonial to his faithful work—I can't place it where there are so many associations that are disgraceful. It would be degradation——"

"Not a bit of it!" said Meg with fearless rapidity, as he rose and walked up and down the attic. "You'll get it back soon. You'll work hard to get it out. If you don't pawn it you'll have to let that man in," nodding in the direction of the staircase. "He'll sit in your room. You'll be able to do no work with him there, smelling of gin, and his red face looking at you. He'll take the silver ink-bottle—and the books. Pawn your watch, and if you work hard you'll get it out soon."

"Wise, practical Meg," said Mr. Standish, scarcely able to repress a smile, moving irresolutely about the little room.

"Give it to me! I'll pawn it for you," rejoined Meg, intent and business-like. "I've been there before. Last time Mrs. Browne put the silver teapot up the spout I went for her. She was tipsy; she could not go. The man knows me. He'll give me the money."

"I have not the heart to do it Meg—I have not the heart," said Mr. Standish, hesitating as the child approached.

"It's better than having the man inside your room, sitting on your green velvet armchair or the chintz sofa, taking the silver ink-bottle and the books, and preventing your working," continued Meg, pressing her advantage; and as Mr. Standish began slowly to unloose the chain, her deft fingers came to the rescue and helped him.

He looked down at the eager, determined child-face. "How good you are to me, Meg; how good!" he said, the words rushing almost unconsciously to his lips.