“Six hundred a year has its charms all the same,” said Lufton, getting up and strolling out of the room.
“If Mark really be in any difficulty,” he said, later in the evening, “we must put him on his legs.”
“You mean, pay his debts?”
“Yes; he has no debts except these acceptances of Sowerby’s.”
“How much will it be, Ludovic?”
“A thousand pounds, perhaps, more or less. I’ll find the money, mother; only I shan’t be able to pay you quite as soon as I intended.” Whereupon his mother got up, and throwing her arms round his neck declared that she would never forgive him if he ever said a word more about her little present to him. I suppose there is no pleasure a mother can have more attractive than giving away her money to an only son.
Lucy’s name was first mentioned at breakfast the next morning. Lord Lufton had made up his mind to attack his mother on the subject early in the morning—before he went up to the parsonage; but as matters turned out Miss Robarts’ doings were necessarily brought under discussion without reference to Lord Lufton’s special aspirations regarding her. The fact of Mrs. Crawley’s illness had been mentioned, and Lady Lufton had stated how it had come to pass that all the Crawleys’ children were at the parsonage.
“I must say that Fanny has behaved excellently,” said Lady Lufton. “It was just what might have been expected from her. And indeed,” she added, speaking in an embarrassed tone, “so has Miss Robarts. Miss Robarts has remained at Hogglestock and nursed Mrs. Crawley through the whole.”
“Remained at Hogglestock—through the fever!” exclaimed his lordship.
“Yes, indeed,” said Lady Lufton.