"And have you quarrelled with all the Ball family?" the young lady asked, putting great emphasis on the word all.
"I did not say that I had quarrelled with any of them," said Miss Mackenzie.
"Oh! I beg pardon. I thought as you came away so sudden like, and as you didn't see any of them since, you know—"
"It is a matter of no importance whatever," said Miss Mackenzie.
"No: none in the least," said Miss Colza. And in this way they made up their minds to hate each other.
But what did the woman mean by talking in this way of all the Balls, as though a quarrel with one of the family was a thing of more importance than a quarrel with any of the others? Could she know, or could she even guess, anything of John Ball and of the offer he had made? But this mystery was soon cleared up in Margaret's mind, when, at Mrs Mackenzie's request, they two went upstairs into that lady's bedroom for a little private conversation.
The conversation was desired for purposes appertaining solely to the convenience of the widow. She wanted some money, and then, with tears in her eyes, she demanded to know what was to be done. Miss Colza paid her eighteen shillings a week for board and lodging, and that was now two weeks in arrear; and one bedroom was let to a young man employed in the oilcloth factory, at seven shillings a week.
"And the rent is ninety pounds, and the taxes twenty-two," said Mrs Mackenzie, with her handkerchief up to her eyes; "and there's the taxman come now for seven pound ten, and where I'm to get it, unless I coined my blood, I don't know."
Margaret gave her two sovereigns which she had in her purse, and promised to send her a cheque for the amount of the taxes due. Then she told as much as she could tell of that proposal as to the interest of the money due from the firm in the New Road.
"If it could only be made certain," said the widow, who had fallen much from her high ideas since Margaret had last seen her. Things were greatly changed in that house since the day on which the dinner, à la Russe, had been given under the auspices of Mr Grandairs. "If it can only be made certain. They still keep his name up in the firm. There it is as plain as life over the place of business"—she would not even yet call it a shop—"Rubb and Mackenzie; and yet they won't let me know anything as to how matters are going on. I went there the other day, and they would tell me nothing. And as for Samuel Rubb, he hasn't been here this last fortnight, and I've got no one to see me righted. If you were to ask Mr Slow, wouldn't he be able to see me righted?"