"With all my heart," said Rachel, who could not avoid the little bit of fun which was here implied. "Not but what the—the people here—would find me any amount of money I chose to ask for. There are people, you see, one does not wish to borrow money from. I take my salary here, but nothing more. The fact is, I have not only taken it, but spent it, and to tell the truth, I have not a shilling to amuse myself with during the dull season. Mr. Moss knows all about it, and has simply asked how much I wanted. 'Nothing,' I replied, 'nothing at all; nothing at all.' And that's how I am situated."
"No debts?"
"Not a dollar. Beyond that I shouldn't have a dollar left to get out of London with." Then she remembered herself,—that it was expedient that she should tell this man something about herself. "I have got a father, you know, and he has to be paid for as well as me. He is the sweetest, kindest, most generous father that a girl ever had, and he could make lots of money for himself, only the police won't let him."
"What do the police do to him?" said Lord Castlewell.
"He is not a burglar, you know, or anything of that kind."
"He is an Irish politician, isn't he?"
"He is very much of a politician; but he is not an Irishman."
"Irish name," suggested the lord.
"Irish name, yes; so are half the names in my country. My father comes from the United States. And he is strongly impressed with the necessity of putting down the horrid injustice with which the poor Irish are treated by the monstrous tyranny of you English aristocrats. You are very nice to look at."
"Thank you, Miss O'Mahony."