"And unfortunately it costs considerable money."
"Haven't you got enough money to pay your fare out there?"
"No, aunt; it is very expensive living in New York, and I was unable
to save anything from my salary."
"How much does it cost to go out there?"
"About two hundred and fifty dollars."
"That's a good deal of money."
"So it is; but it will be a great deal better to pay it than to lose
so good a place."
"I hope," said the old lady, sharply, "you don't expect me to pay
your expenses out there."
"My dear aunt," said Ferdinand, hastily, "how can you suspect such a
thing?"
"Then what do you propose to do?" asked the spinster, somewhat
relieved.
"I wanted to ask your advice."
"Sell your ring. It's worth over six hundred dollars."
"Very true; but I should hardly like to part with it. I'll tell you
what I have thought of. It cost six hundred and fifty dollars. I
will give it as security to any one who will lend me five hundred
dollars, with permission to sell it if I fail to pay up the note in
six months. By the way, aunt, why can't you accommodate me in this
matter? You will lose nothing, and I will pay handsome interest."
"How do you know I have the money?"
"I don't know; but I think you must have. But, although I am your
nephew, I wouldn't think of asking you to lend me money without
security. Business is business, so I say.
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