‘O Frank, how clever of you!’
‘It is only fifty pounds.’
‘Never mind, dear, it is a beginning.’
‘That is what I feel. It is the foundation-stone of our fortunes. And so I want Her Majesty to lay it—mustn’t wrinkle your brow though—that is not allowed.’
‘But it is a great responsibility, Frank.’
‘Yes, we must not lose it.’
‘No, dear, we must not lose it. Suppose we invest it in one of those modern fifty-guinea pianos. Our dear old Broadwood was an excellent piano when I was a girl, but it is getting so squeaky in the upper notes. Perhaps they would allow us something for it.’
He shook his head.
‘I know that we want one very badly, dear. And such a musician as you are should have the best instrument that money can buy. I promise you that when we have a little to turn round on, you shall have a beauty. But in the meantime we must not buy anything with this money—I mean nothing for ourselves—we must invest it. We cannot tell what might happen. I might fall ill. I might die.’
‘O Frank, how horrid you are this morning!’