Trove sat in thoughtful silence, and, presently, Allen went out of
doors. The woman got her savings and brought them to her son.
"There is twenty-three dollars, an' it may help you," she whispered.
"No, mother; I can't take it," said the young man. "I owe you more
now than I can ever pay. I shall have to sell the mare. It's a
great trial to me, but--but I suppose honour is better than horses."
"Well, I've a surprise for you," said she, bringing a roll of cloth
from the bedroom. "Those two old maids spun the wool, and I wove
it, and, see, it's all been fulled."
"You're as good as gold, mother, and so are they. It's grand to
wear in the country, but I'm going away and ought to have an extra
good suit. I'd like to look as fine as any of the village boys,
and they don't wear homespun. But I'll have plenty of use for it."
Next day he walked to Jericho Mills and paid the doctor. He went
on to Milldam, buying there a handsome new outfit of clothing.
Then he called to see the President of the bank--that one which had
set the dogs of the law on him.
"You know I put three thousand dollars in the bank of
Hillsborough," said Trove, when he sat facing the official.
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