"No," she answered, after a moment, meeting his eyes frankly; "at least, not in the way you mean. The doctor's bills were heavy, and for years father had done business enough to keep the roof over him and no more. So at first there was—well, a pinch. The books will sell, of course; two honest men are already bidding for them—one at Birmingham and the other at Bristol. But meanwhile I must pinch a little or run in debt. I hate debt."
"And afterwards?" Rosewarne broke off sharply, with a glance around the table. "But, excuse me, you have laid for one only."
"If it is your pleasure, Mr. Rosewarne."—
"Say that I claim it as an honour, Miss Hester," he answered, with a mock-serious bow.
She laughed, and ran off to the pantry.
"And afterwards?" he resumed, as they seated themselves.
"Afterwards? Oh, I go back to the teaching. I like it, you know."
He brimmed her glass with champagne, then filled his own. "You saved my life just now, Miss Hester; and life is good to look forward to, even when a very little remains. I drink to your happiness."
"Thank you, sir."
"How old are you?"