"People who owe money must pay it some time, Fleming," suggested Lady Eleanor.
"Yes—ah, yes, my lady, some time," admitted Fleming, "but not all at once. It seems as if the people my lord owes money to had joined together and resolved to drop upon him in a heap. There's a man in possession in Bury Street, my lady."
"A man in possession!" repeated Lady Eleanor, as if she scarcely understood.
"Yes, a bailiff, my lady, sitting there in his lordship's sitting-room; and I daresn't throw him out of the window."
Lady Eleanor looked down.
"And—and Lord Yorke, Fleming—I suppose he is in great trouble about this?"
Fleming hesitated.
"Well, my lady, he is in great trouble; but if you mean is he cut up about this money matter, I can't say that he is. He don't seem to care one bit about it, and takes it as cool and indifferent as if—well, as if nothing mattered. But he is in great trouble for all that, and he has been for weeks past—"
He hesitated.
Lady Eleanor looked up.