"She is in a little trouble about cash at the present moment."
"Not a doubt about it."
"And I have offered to lend her a trifle—£200 or so, just till she can work it off up at the theatre there."
"Then there is one of the ten at any rate," said Mr. O'Mahony.
"Meaning me?" asked the lord.
"Just so. Lending us £200, when neither of us have a shilling in our pocket, is a very good deed. Don't you think so, Rachel?"
"No," said Rachel. "Lord Castlewell is not a fit person to lend me £200 out of his pocket, and I will not have it."
"I did not know," said Mr. O'Mahony.
"You never know anything, you are such a dear, innocent old father."
"There's an end of it then," said he, addressing himself to the lord. He did not look in the least annoyed because his daughter had refused to take the loan, nor had he shown the slightest feeling of any impropriety when there was a question as to her accepting it.