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"I suppose you know how hard it is to borrow money now," said Mr. Crowl, in a depressing manner, "especially in cases like this. I don't believe you'd get a dollar anywhere else in town. Even where everything is good and promising, we usually get a bonus on such a loan. The best I could do would be to let you have three hundred and sixty on such a mortgage." "Then give me my deed.
"What has happened?" she said, starting up. He stared at her almost stupidly for a moment. Then he said, in a stony voice: "The worst that ever can happen to me in this or any world. If the lightning had burned me to a cinder, I could not be more utterly bereft of all that tends to make a good man. Edith Allen has sold herself to old Crowl.
Crowl sat meekly eating his supper of bread and cheese, with his head bandaged, while Denzil Cantercot told him the story of how he had rescued Tom Mortlake. He had been among the first to scale the height, and had never budged from Tom's side or from the forefront of the battle till he had seen him safely outside and into a by-street.
The security is good, and I'm not willing to pay more than seven per cent." Old Crowl looked a moment at her resolute face, beautiful even in its pallor and pain, and a new thought seemed to strike him. "Well, well," said he, with an awkward show of gallantry, "one can't do business with a pretty girl as with a man. You shall make your own terms."
But Crowl had no idea who the visitor was, even when told his name. He was rather pleased to meet one of Denzil's high-class friends, and welcomed him warmly. Probably he was some famous editor, which would account for his name stirring vague recollections. "We were just talking of poor Mr. Constant's portrait, Mr.
"She being young and a great beauty, full seventy year before, had married Squire Crowl, of Applewale. But he was a widower, and had a son about nine years old. "There never was tale or tidings of this boy after one mornin'. No one could say where he went to.
'What the deuce is the matter with him? exclaimed Crowl, throwing the door open. 'Hark! Is there any noise above? The guests rose in great confusion, and, looking in each other's faces with much perplexity and some fear, stretched their necks forward, and listened attentively.
Mr Crowl, with a look of some contempt, was about to enter a general protest against the payment of rates or taxes, under any circumstances, when he was checked by a timely whisper from Kenwigs, and several frowns and winks from Mrs K., which providentially stopped him.
It was his son, the ald lady's grandson, Squire Chevenix Crowl, that owned the estates at the time I came to Applewale. "There was a deal o' talk lang before my aunt's time about it; and 'twas said the step-mother knew more than she was like to let out. And she managed her husband, the ald squire, wi' her white-heft and flatteries.
Well, I told them it was to wait on Dame Arabella Crowl, of Applewale House, near by Lexhoe. "'Ho, then, says one of them, 'you'll not be long there! "And I looked at him as much as to say 'Why not? for I had spoken out when I told them where I was goin', as if 'twas something clever I hed to say.
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