ther say that there was a good-sized mortgage on the place, and Dr. Bennett had instantly added: "Now, don't you say anything about that, Mabel," but ever after that, Mabel had kept her eyes open during her visits to Mrs. Crane, hoping to get a glimpse of the dreadful large-sized thing that was not to be mentioned.
On one occasion she thought she saw light. Mrs. Crane had expressed a fear that a wandering pole-cat had made a home under her woodshed.
"Is mortgage another name for pole-cat?" Mabel had asked a little later.
"No," imaginative Jean had replied, "a mortgage is more like a great, lean, hungry, grey wolf waiting just around the corner to eat you up. Don't ever use the word before Mrs. Crane; she has one."
"Where does she keep it?" demanded Mabel, agog with interest.
"I promised not to talk about it," said Jean, "and I won't."
