"It's hard upon a poor man," said he, "as earns every farthing with
the sweat of his brow. However, there's no help for it. You must
take back your shawl, my man; Lizzle must go on with her cloak for
a while. And yon figs for the little ones--I promised them to 'em-
-I'll take them; but the 'bacco, and the other things" -
"I will give you five sovereigns for your note, my good man," said
Miss Matty. "I think there is some great mistake about it, for I
am one of the shareholders, and I'm sure they would have told me if
things had not been going on right."
The shopman whispered a word or two across the table to Miss Matty.
She looked at him with a dubious air.
"Perhaps so," said she. "But I don't pretend to understand
business; I only know that if it is going to fail, and if honest
people are to lose their money because they have taken our notes--I
can't explain myself," said she, suddenly becoming aware that she
had got into a long sentence with four people for audience; "only I
would rather exchange my gold for the note, if you please," turning
to the farmer, "and then you can take your wife the shawl. It is
only going without my gown a few days longer," she continued,
speaking to me. "Then, I have no doubt, everything will be cleared
up."
"But if it is cleared up the wrong way?" said I.
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