“But we can still manage. I have as much at my bank. I will advance it to the Denvers as coming from you, and you can repay it to me, or the interest of it, when your money becomes due.”
“Oh, that is beautiful! How sweet and kind of you!”
“But there is one obstacle: I do not think that you would ever induce Harold to take this money.”
Clara's face fell. “Don't you think so, really?”
“I am sure that he would not.”
“Then what are you to do? What horrid things money matters are to arrange!”
“I shall see his father. We can manage it all between us.”
“Oh, do, do, papa! And you will do it soon?”
“There is no time like the present. I will go in at once.” He scribbled a cheque, put it in an envelope, put on his broad straw hat, and strolled in through the garden to pay his morning call.
It was a singular sight which met his eyes as he entered the sitting-room of the Admiral. A great sea chest stood open in the center, and all round upon the carpet were little piles of jerseys, oil-skins, books, sextant boxes, instruments, and sea-boots. The old seaman sat gravely amidst this lumber, turning it over, and examining it intently; while his wife, with the tears running silently down her ruddy cheeks, sat upon the sofa, her elbows upon her knees and her chin upon her hands, rocking herself slowly backwards and forwards.