“It 's about vesting your two thousand pounds, Julia, which now return about seventy pounds a year, in the coal speculation. That's what I am thinking of. Harding says, that taking a very low estimate of the success, there ought to be a profit on the shares of fifteen per cent. In fact, he said he wouldn't go into it himself for less.”
“Why, George, why did he say this? Is there anything wrong or immoral about coal?”
“Try and be serious for one moment, Ju,” said he, with a slight touch of irritation in his voice. “What Harding evidently meant was, that a speculative enterprise was not to be deemed good if it yielded less. These shrewd men, I believe, never lay out their money without large profit.”
“And, my dear George, why come and consult me about these things? Can you imagine more hopeless ignorance than mine must be on all such questions?”
“You can understand that a sum of money yielding three hundred a year is more profitably employed than when it only returned seventy.”
“Yes; I think my intelligence can rise to that height.”
“And you can estimate, also, what increase of comfort we should have if our present income were to be more than doubled—which it would be in this way.”
“I'd deem it positive affluence, George.”
“That's all I want you to comprehend. The next question is to get Vickars to consent; he is the surviving trustee, and you'll have to write to him, Ju. It will come better from you than me, and say—what you can say with a safe conscience—that we are miserably poor, and that, though we pinch and save in every way we can, there's no reaching the end of the year without a deficit in the budget.”
“I used that unlucky phrase once before, George, and he replied, 'Why don't you cut down the estimates?'”