Mildred made no answer to his remark about the money. In fact, after an unusually fatiguing night with her mother, she was too weary to speak, and sat leaning her head on her hand, only moving to respond to the call of "Cash!" at the desk window. How good the money looked, Mildred thought, as she slipped the notes between her fingers! Over and again she had the sum she needed in her hands--if conscience was not in the way. "Yes," thought Milly, "that is how temptation steps in." * * * * * Deborah was standing in the kitchen window the next evening when Mildred came down from her mother's room, asking her to relieve her for ten minutes. "My 'business' woman is coming in the gate, Debby," she said, with a nervous laugh; "but it will be her last visit, and after she goes away I will tell you all about her." Deborah went up stairs a little mollified, and Mildred prepared to confront her "Shylock." "Here I am," said Mrs. Robbins, shaking out her skirts, and sitting down as soon as she entered the bare little parlor, "and here I'm likely to remain, for I know what I mean to _have_ instead of money if you don't pay me; and I know," added the woman, with her insolent laugh--"I know you haven't it, for old Mr. Hardman refused to lend it to you yesterday." Mildred flushed, but she returned the woman's bold stare with a look of quiet dignity. "You are mistaken, Mrs. Robbins," she said, producing a roll of bills. "Here is your money. Will you be kind enough to give me a receipt as quickly as possible?" The peddler stared, but she could offer no further remonstrance. There were the bills, fresh enough, and genuine. She took the money in her hands, counted it over and again, and then, with angry reluctance, and a glance at the ornaments in the room, which showed what she had "meant to have," she wrote her receipt and departed.... * * * * * "And that's the whole story, Deborah," whispered Milly, an hour later, as she and the good old woman sat over the fire in Mrs. Lee's room. "It's nearly killed me this winter--but I _can't possibly tell you_ where or how I got the money. I scarcely like to think of it myself," and Mildred rose with the air Debby knew very well, and which plainly said, "You'll hear no more." "Well," said Deborah, "I won't ask if I'm bid not. I only hope no trouble'll come of it." "Trouble!" said Milly, rather sharply. Deborah did not know how tired and ill she felt, and, indeed, poor Milly was very near a hearty burst of crying. She was relieved of one anxiety, she thought, as she lay down to sleep in her mother's room; but had she not burdened herself with another?