Miss Sandford's time was now her own; she was accountable to no
supervisor. Her brother was a cipher. He did not venture to intrude upon
her, except at seasons when she was at leisure, and in a humor to be
bored by him. Perhaps she looked back regretfully, but, as far as could
be told by her manner, she carried herself proudly, with the air of one
who says,--
"Better reign in hell than serve in heaven."
The observant reader has doubtless wondered before this, that Mr.
Sandford did not, in his emergency, apply to his old clerk, Fletcher,
for the money in exchange for the peculiar obligation of which mention
has been made. It is presuming too much upon Mr. Sandford's stupidity
to suppose that the idea had not frequently occurred to him. But he was
satisfied that Fletcher was one of the few who were making money in this
time of general distress, and that with every day's acquisition the
paper became more valuable; therefore, as it was his last trump, he
preferred to play it when it would sweep the board; and he was willing
to live in any way until the proper time came. Not so easy was Fletcher.
Several times he attempted to pay the claim, so that he could once more
hold his head erect as a free man.
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