“What's the annuity,—how much?” cried Curtis, hastily.
“What sum would you yourself feel sufficient, sir? He empowered me to consult your own wishes and expectations on the subject.”
“If I was to say a thousand a-year, for instance?” said Curtis, slowly.
“I'm certain he would not object, sir.”
“Perhaps if I said two, he 'd comply?”
“Two thousand pounds a-year is a large income for a single man,” replied Crowther, sententiously.
“So it is; but I could spend it. I spent eight thousand a-year once in my life, and when my estate was short of three! and that 's what comes of it;” and he gave the settle-bed a rude kick as he spoke. “Would he give two? That's the question, Crowther: would he give two?”
“I do not feel myself competent to close with that offer, Mr. Curtis; but if you really think that such a sum is necessary—”
“I do,—I know it; I could n't do with a shilling less; in fact, I'd find myself restricted enough with that. Whenever I had to think about money, it was hateful to me. Tell him two is the lowest, the very lowest, I 'd accept of; and if he wishes to treat me handsomely, he may exceed it. You 're not to judge of my habits, sir, from what you see here,” added he, fiercely; “this is not what I have been accustomed to. You don't know the number of people who look up to me for bread. My father's table was laid for thirty every day, and it had been well for us if as many more were not fed at our cost elsewhere.”
“I have often heard tell of Meagh-valley House and its hospitalities,” said Crowther, blandly.