Evarts muttered, like a dog under a
whip, that he didn't want to wake her up.

"You must not," said Ellen. "Now here is the watch and chain. I
suppose that will do as well as your money if you cannot afford to
wait for my father to pay you. My father will pay you in time. He
has never borrowed anything of any man which he has not meant to pay
back, and will not pay back. If you cannot afford to wait, take the
watch and chain."

The man looked at her stupefied.

"Here," said Ellen; "take it."

"I don't want your watch an' chain," muttered Evarts.

"You have either got to take them or wait for your money," said
Ellen.

"I'll wait," said Evarts. He was looking at the girl's face with
mingled sentiments of pity, admiration, and terror.

"Very well, then," said Ellen. "I will promise you, and my father
will, that you shall have your money in time, but how long do you
want to wait?"

"I'll wait any time. I ain't in any straits for the money, if I get
it in the end," said Evarts.

"You will get it in the end," said Ellen. Evarts turned to Andrew.

"Look here, give me your note for six months," said he, "and we'll
call it all right."

"All right," said Andrew, again.

"If you are not satisfied with that," said Ellen, with a tone as if
she were conferring inestimable benefits, so proud it was, "you can
take the watch and chain. It is not hurt in the least. Here." She
was fairly insolent. Evarts regarded her with a mixture of
admiration and terror. He told somebody the next day that Andrew
Brewster had a stepper of a daughter, but he did not give his
reasons for the statement. He had a sense of honor, and he had been
in love with a girl as young before he married his wife, who had
been a widow older than he, worth ten thousand dollars from her
first husband. He could no more have taken the girl's watch and
chain than he would have killed her.

"I'm quite satisfied," he replied to her, making a repellant
motion towards the watch and dangling chain glittering in the
electric-light.

"Very well, then," said Ellen, and she threw the chain over her
neck.

"You just bring that I O U to the shop to-mor-mor," said Evarts to
Andrew; then, with a "Good-evening," he was off. They heard him hail
an electric-car passing, and that, although he never took a car, but
walked to save the fare. He had been often heard to say that he for
one did not support the street railroad.

After he had gone, Ellen turned to her father