'Positive; besides, he never knows what money he has paid, or what receipts he has had, or what the amount of his mortgages was.'
'Simpson, again, I think he is sharper since his father's death. He was regularly frightened when he found what a sum he owed me; and if I hadn't got into a passion, and threatened to call him out for doubting my honour, I believe he would have checked our bill.'
'Can't you get more money on your house in town?'
'No; I have tried Levi and Jacobs, and they won't advance any more without better security.'
'Your mother; surely she would help you, if you were to make up a good story.'
'No; I ran down to see her the other day, and she had taken offence because she chose to think I had neglected her, and was as obstinate as an old mule. I believe she is getting stingy, too, and says she will keep her money as long as she lives, and then I may do what I like with it.'
'What is she worth?'
'Well, I should say by this time, she must have as good as six or seven hundred a-year. She hasn't lived up to her income, and what she has doled out to me now and then, hasn't touched the principal. She must have from fifteen to twenty thousand pounds one way and another.'
'Ask her to come and visit you; take her about and make much of her, and then seize upon her in an unwary moment. Borrow the money, and say you will pay it back, which you know, you will be able to do, if you have any luck.'
'That's a bright idea. The old soul has always been hankering to come to London. Give me a pen and ink directly. Let me see; I know how she likes me to begin. "Dear and honoured mother." Faugh! shall we go on in the ancient style? "I hope this will find you well, as it leaves me at present." I only wish it would find her—well—I think that will do. I have told her that Netta and I will be delighted to see her, etc., etc. And Netta hates her, too.'