Harriet had started with her request, so she went bravely on: 

“I’ll just tell you the whole story, Charlie,” she declared, “so you will see what an awful predicament I am in.  I know you won’t tell Father, and you may be able to help me out.  I owe Madame Louise, my dressmaker, five hundred dollars!  She has threatened to bring suit against me at the end of a week unless I pay her what I owe before that time.  Would you lend me the money, Charlie?  I am awfully ashamed to ask you.  But I could pay you back in a little while.”

Harriet’s voice dropped almost to a whisper, she was so embarrassed.  Her companion must have heard her, for he was sitting beside her in the automobile, but he made no answer.

Poor Harriet sat very still for a moment overcome with humiliation.  She had trampled upon her pride and self-respect in making her request, and she had begun to realize more fully how very unwise she had been in asking such a favor of this young man.  Yet it had really never dawned on the girl that Charlie Meyers could refuse her request.  When he did not answer, she began to feel afraid.  Harriet could not have spoken again for the world.  Her usually haughty head was bent low, and her lids dropped over her eyes in which the tears of humiliation were beginning to gather.

“Look here, Harriet,” protested the young man at last.  “Five hundred dollars is a good deal of money even for me to lend.  What arrangements do you want to make about paying it back?”

“Why, Charlie!” Harriet exclaimed.  “You can have the interest on the money, if you like.  I never thought of that.”

“You can pay me back the interest if you wish,” Charlie replied sullenly.  “But you know, Harriet, that I like you an awful lot, and for a long time I’ve been wanting you to marry me.  But you’ve always refused me.  Now if you’ll promise to marry me, I’ll let you have the money.  But if you won’t, why you can’t have it—­that’s all!  I am not going to lend my good money to you, and then have you go your way and perhaps not have anything more to do with me for weeks.  I tell you, Harriet, I like you an awful lot and you know it; but I am not going to be made a fool of, and you might as well find it out right now.”

Harriet was so angry she simply could not speak for a few minutes.  The enormity of her mistake swept over her.  But silence was her best weapon, for Charlie Meyers began to feel ashamed.  He was dimly aware that he had insulted Harriet, and he really did care for her as much as he was capable of caring for any one.

“I didn’t mean to make you angry, Harriet,” he apologized in a half frightened voice.  “I don’t see why you can’t care for me anyhow.  I’ve asked you to marry me over and over again.  And I can just tell you, you won’t have to worry over debts to dressmakers ever again, if you marry me.  I’ve got an awful lot of money.”