“I suppose it does not,” returned Katherine, sadly.  “Still, if you could help us with a loan at this trying time it might be the saving of our fortunes, and both my mother and myself would do our best to repay you.”

“That’s but indifferent security,” said the miser with a sardonic grin.

“I feel sure that my mother’s novel will succeed.  It is a beautiful story—­and you know how some of the best books have been rejected—­and when it is taken they will give her at least a hundred pounds for it!” cried Katherine, eagerly.

“Good Lord! a hundred pounds for trashy scribblings.”

“They are not trash, sir,” returned Katherine, with spirit.

“And what sum do you want on this first-class security?” he asked.

“Oh, thirty or forty pounds!” she said, her heart beating with wild anxiety.

“Thirty pounds!  Why, that is a fortune!”

“It would be to us,” said Katherine, fighting bravely against a desperate inclination to cry.

“And all you have to offer in exchange is a mortgage on an unpublished novel?”

“We have nothing in the world but the furniture,” she replied, with a slight sob.

“Furniture!” repeated Mr. Liddell, sharply.  “How much?—­how many rooms have you?”

“A drawing-room and dining-room, my mother’s study, and four bedrooms, besides—­”

“Well!” exclaimed Liddell, interrupting her, “you’ll have a hundred pounds’ worth in it, and I dare say it cost you two.  Now you have shown you have some knowledge of the value of money, and you have served me well at this uncomfortable crisis.  I’ll tell you what I will do; I’ll write to my solicitor to go and see you, at the address you have told me, to-morrow.  He shall find out if you are speaking the truth, and look at your goods and chattels.  If he reports favorably I will do something for you, on the security of the furniture.  You haven’t given a bill of sale to any one else, I suppose?”

“A bill of sale?—­I do not know what you mean.”

“Ah! perhaps not.”  He rose and hobbled to his writing-table, where he began to write.  “What’s your address?” he asked.  Katherine told him.  Presently he finished and turned to her.  “Put this in the post.  Look at it.  Mr. Newton, my solicitor, will take it with him when he calls, to-morrow or next day.  No!” suddenly.  “I will send the girl with it to the pillar, and you shall stay till she returns.  You may or you may not be honest; but I will never trust any one again.”

“As you like,” returned Katherine, overjoyed not to be utterly refused.  “And before I go, do let me try and find some one to be with you.  It is dreadful to think of your being alone in this large house with only that poor little girl! and she is inclined to run away!  I think her mother is coming here; let me stay till she comes.”

“I don’t want any one,” said the old man, fiercely.  “I am hale and strong; the child can do all I want.  You got some food for her I see.  The strength of that meat will last till to-morrow.  Then you must come to hear what I decide, and you can do what I want, if you are my niece!”