"George," she said, slowly.
"Well."
"I wish you would try any other scheme but that."
"There is no other scheme! That's so like a woman;—to quarrel with the only plan that is practicable."
"I do not think you ought to take Alice's money."
"My dear Kate, you must allow me to be the best judge of what I ought to do, and what I ought not to do. Alice herself understands the matter perfectly. She knows that I cannot obtain this position, which is as desirable for her as it is for me—"
"And for me as much as for either," said Kate, interrupting him.
"Very well. Alice, I say, knows that I cannot do this without money, and has offered the assistance which I want. I would rather that you should tell her how much I want, and that I want it now, than that I should do so. That is all. If you are half the woman that I take you to be, you will understand this well enough."
Kate did understand it well enough. She was quite awake to the fact that her brother was ashamed of the thing he was about to do,—so much ashamed of it that he was desirous of using her voice instead of his own. "I want you to write to her quite at once," he continued; "since you seem to think that it is not worth while to take the trouble of a journey to London."
"There is no question about the trouble," said Kate. "I would walk to London to get the money for you, if that were all."