Aikin could not but suspect, looking for a smaller sum, he gave him a five-dollar note, with the air of one who is conferring an astounding obligation. Aikin expressed neither surprise nor gratitude; but, quietly putting up the note, he said, "You know, Finley, money is not the most important thing I had to ask. I want you to go to the police-office with me. You are a great merchant, and your name is well known in the city; I am nobody, and it may be necessary for me to get my statement endorsed. Come, it is not five minutes' walk for you."
"Why, bless you, man, don't you see I'm going out! there's my wife coming down stairs now."
"Let her go in the carriage—you can follow her."
"Oh! that's impossible—she would not go alone into a party for the world."
"Can she not wait till your return?"
"No; it is not' reasonable to ask it—it's late now—and—and—"
"Good night; I have wasted my time here," said Aibin, cutting short Finley's excuses, and leaving him trying to silence his conscience by dwelling on the five dollars he had given—by fretting at the deused folly of going out when people were tired and wanted to go to bed—and by joining in his wife's vituperation against Nancy and all her tribe.
