urs," snapped Mrs. Tresslyn. "You are certainly
entitled to the interest. You--"

"They are _not_ mine," returned Anne decisively. "Not until Mr. Thorpe is
dead, if you please. I am to have my pay after he has passed away, no
sooner. That was the bargain."

"You did not hesitate to accept some rather expensive pearls if I remember
correctly," said Mrs. Tresslyn bitingly.

"That was his affair, not mine," said Anne coolly. "He despises me so
thoroughly that he thought he could go beyond his contract and tempt me
with this interest we are quarrelling about, mother. He was sure that I
would jump at it as a greedy fish snaps at the bait. But I disappointed
him. I shall never forget the look of surprise,--no, it was wonder,--that
came into his eyes when I flatly refused to take this interest. That was
nearly a year ago. He began to treat me with a little respect after that.
There is scarcely a month goes by that he does not bring up the subject. I
think he has never abandoned the hope that I may give in, after all.
Lately he has taken to chuckling when I make my monthly protest against
accepting this money. He can't believe it of me. He thinks there is
something amusing about what I have been foolish enough to call my sense
of honour. Still, I believe he has a little better opinion of me than he
had at first. And now, mother, once and for all, let us consider the
matter closed. I will not take the interest until the principal is
indisputably mine."

"You are a fool, Anne," said her mother, in her desperation; "a simple,
ridiculous fool. Why shouldn't you take it? It is yours. You can't afford
to throw away ninety thousand dollars. The bank has orders to pay it over
to you, and it is deposited to your account. That ought to settle the
matter. If it isn't yours, may I enquire to whom does it belong?"

"Time enough to decide that, mother," said Anne, so composedly that Mrs.
Tresslyn writhed with exasperation. "I haven't quite decided who is to
have it in the end. You may be sure, however, that I shall give it to some
worthy cause. It shan't be wasted."

"Do you mean to say that you will give it away--give it to charity?"
groaned her mother.

"Certainly."

Words failed Mrs. Tresslyn. She could only stare in utter astonishment at
this incomprehensible creature.

"I may have to ask your advice when the time comes," went on Anne,
complacently. "You must assist me in selecting the most worthy charity,
mother dear."

"I