“No, no! I only said it would clear me for the moment.”
“I misunderstood you, then, sadly; and such mistakes involve my own honour. Pardon me, Frank; don’t ask my aid in future. You see, with the best intentions, I only compromise myself.”
“If you forsake me, I may as well go and throw myself into the river,” said Frank, in a tone of despair; “and sooner or later, my father must know my necessities. The Jews threaten to go to him already; and the longer the delay, the more terrible the explanation.”
“I don’t see why your father should ever learn the state of your affairs; and it seems to me that you could pay off these usurers, and get rid of these bills, by raising money on comparatively easy terms—”
“How?” cried Frank, eagerly.
“Why, the Casino property is entailed on you, and you might obtain a sum upon that, not to be paid till the property becomes yours.”
“At my poor father’s death? Oh, no, no! I cannot bear the idea of this cold-blooded calculation on a father’s death. I know it is not uncommon; I know other fellows who have done it, but they never had parents so kind as mine; and even in them it shocked and revolted me. The contemplating a father’s death, and profiting by the contemplation it seems a kind of parricide: it is not natural, Randal. Besides, don’t you remember what the Governor said,—he actually wept while he said it,—‘Never calculate on my death; I could not bear that.’ Oh, Randal, don’t speak of it!”
“I respect your sentiments; but still, all the post-orbits you could raise could not shorten Mr. Hazeldean’s life by a day. However, dismiss that idea; we must think of some other device. Ha, Frank! you are a handsome fellow, and your expectations are great—why don’t you marry some woman with money?”
“Pooh!” exclaimed Frank, colouring. “You know, Randal, that there is but one woman in the world I can ever think of; and I love her so devotedly, that, though I was as gay as most men before, I really feel as if the rest of her sex had lost every charm. I was passing through the street now—merely to look up at her windows.”
“You speak of Madame di Negra? I have just left her. Certainly, she is two or three years older than you; but if you can get over that misfortune, why not marry her?”