"And this, I take it, is one of the times," said Weir dryly. "Nevertheless," and he looked fixedly into the little ferret's face and spoke slowly, "I think you'll understand what I'm going to say. First, it's very well known that you are a mere instrument of the Bulfinches; the bills they place in your hands under the pretense that you have bought them they know to be desperate ones and not easily realized." "I will speak with her father," said Nevens, hopping about. "I cannot hear you. And I do not know you. It's her father who must pay, and it's he who must present himself." "Second," said Weir composedly, "this bill names no definite time for payment; it states no rate of interest; it bears no indorser's name." "Must I be robbed!" cried Nevens. "Am I to be dragooned and my money mishandled because it was loaned generously." "It may have been generosity," said Weir, "but it was old Amos Bulfinch who loaned it, and, having known him, I'm tempted to believe it was something else." "My money!" chattered Nevens, on tiptoe with excitement. "I'll have it. Is there no law to touch such cases? Is there no honesty in the world?" But Weir motioned Anthony to open the door for Mademoiselle Lafargue; and they went out, leaving the little broker still hopping and shrilling his protests. On the sidewalk Weir gravely lifted his tall beaver hat. "Pay no attention to any further communication from this man," he said to the girl. "The note, from Nathaniel Bulfinch's own word, is as I've stated. It need be paid only when your father feels perfectly able to pay it, and it bears no interest whatsoever." He bowed to her and, with a nod to Anthony, went on his way toward Fourth Street. And as Anthony and the girl walked in the opposite direction there was a silence between them. Then the girl said: "That was thoughtful and kind." "Weir is both," said Anthony. "He is a reticent man, with little warmth in his look; but more than once he has shown himself to me as a friend worth having." "I have been holding him wrongly in my mind," said the girl. "I had thought him my enemy." "You once thought I was your enemy," said Anthony, and he smiled. "I've been very foolish," she said. "I've misjudged you all. I thought you selfish, and I thought Captain Weir cold and cruel. Some time since," and she lifted her fine eyes to him with an honesty that thrilled him, "I saw I was wrong in my thoughts of you; and now I see that I have also been unjust to Captain Weir. For that man must be very kindly, indeed, who will go out of his way to serve one who he knows detests him." And Weir's lips, as he went his way down the street, were twisted into a wry smile; and his eyes were also smiling the cunning, purposeful smile of the cat. XXXI