“I will, indeed. I’ll be jolly glad to have help. And you can do as much as you like, before your young enthusiasm wears off.”
“I’ll do it, gladly,” said Patty, and then they discovered that the evening had flown away, and it was bedtime.
As they went upstairs, Mabel followed Patty to her room and sat down for a little good-night chat.
Patty’s eyes were shining with excitement, and as she took off her hair ribbon, and folded it round her hand, she said:
“Even if we don’t find anything, you’ll be no worse off, and it’s such fun to hunt.”
“They didn’t tell you all, Patty,” said Mabel, in a pathetic tone, and Patty turned quickly to her friend.
“Why, what do you mean?”
“I mean this. Of course, we’ve never been rich, and we’ve never been able to do for the place what ought to be done for it; but we have been able to live here. And now—now, if we can’t get any more money, we—we can’t stay here! Oh, Patty!”
Patty’s arms went round Mabel, as the poor child burst into tears.
“Yes,” she said, sobbing, “some of mother’s business interests have failed—it’s all come on lately, I don’t entirely understand it—but, anyway, we may soon have to leave Cromarty, and oh, Patty, how could we live anywhere else? and what’s worse, how could we have any one else living here?”