"Yer can't fool this child again, now, I tell yer. Why don't he pay me? _that's_ what I want to know. I _will_ go up." The man stepped forward, as if to ascend the stairs. "Please don't, Mr. Gilsum," said the girl, in a sweet, pleading tone, laying a red and toilworn little hand softly on his arm. "Papa will pay you next week. He will, believe me, sir." "So you told me last week," growled Mr. Gilsum, "and the week before that. It's all humbug. Why don't he pay me now? _that's_ what I want to know." Again he put a foot forward, and was again restrained by the hand of the little girl. "I have tried very hard to earn money, Mr. Gilsum," said the musical and plaintive voice, _but_ have been disappointed. Next week I am sure I will have some for you." "Pshaw!" ejaculated the man, pulling the greasy cap over his eyes in a spirit of savage determination. "I can't waste time talking. I _will_ find out why he don't pay me now." The inexorable Mr. Gilsum pushed aside the feeble hand of the little girl, and was about to go up the stairs in good earnest, when Marcus Wilkeson, who had lingered near the door to catch the exact purport of the conversation, called out to him: "Hallo, my friend! what's the row?" Mr. Gilsum stopped, and, turning, said snappishly: "None of yer business. Unless," he prudently added, "yer a friend of the comical old chap up stairs, and want to pay his debts." "I am a friend, and I will pay them," rejoined Marcus, speaking from the impulse of the moment. Since he had become rich, and could afford the luxury, he frequently spoke and acted upon impulse, without regard to consequences. Mr. Gilsum's face suddenly changed from an aspect of moroseness to one of bewitching amiability. He stood in the doorway, and said: "It's only a matter of ten shillings, sir, for brass and screws, and little odds and ends from my shop--the locksmith's shop over in the next street--you may remember it, sir. I'm sure I don't want to be hard on the gentleman." To cut short explanations, which he hated, Marcus paid the locksmith his ten shillings, and suggested that he need not wait longer. The locksmith, having received the money, thought it incumbent upon him to apologize and explain still further, till Marcus took hold of the door, as if to close it, when he accepted the hint, and departed, mumbling an apology as he went. The young girl, who had looked on in amazement, turned a pair of soft blue eyes toward the face of the stranger, and said: "Papa will thank you very much, sir."