“Let us have a few days.”
“Oh, we should have that in the ordinary course of business. The legal formalities would take them some little time. But I must go, Clara, I must not seem to shirk. My place now must be at my offices.”
“Yes, dear, you are right. God bless you and guard you! I shall be here in The Wilderness, but all day I shall be by your office table at Throgmorton Street in spirit, and if ever you should be sad you will hear my little whisper in your ear, and know that there is one client whom you will never be able to get rid of—never as long as we both live, dear.”
CHAPTER XII. FRIENDS IN NEED.
“Now, papa,” said Clara that morning, wrinkling her brows and putting her finger-tips together with the air of an experienced person of business, “I want to have a talk to you about money matters.”
“Yes, my dear.” He laid down his paper, and looked a question.
“Kindly tell me again, papa, how much money I have in my very own right. You have often told me before, but I always forget figures.”
“You have two hundred and fifty pounds a year of your own, under your aunt's will.
“And Ida?”