“Well, I am afraid that alone it would not be wise for me to purchase it. But then one cannot get over the fact that you are an heiress—excuse my being unromantic and practical—and we are presumably not going to live on my income only. And so, if the house and its grounds should suit us, I was wondering whether you would feel disposed——”
“Oh, my dear child, how you do beat about the bush! Of course I’ll help buy the place if we like it. Why shouldn’t I? There’s heaps of money, and there’s no earthly reason why we shouldn’t use it.”
“But will the trustees let you have it?”
“I’m not of age for another year, but the trustees have discretionary power. At least, Mr. Shelf has, and he never thwarts me in anything. I believe he’d do anything for me. He is really the kindest man. If you like, Hamilton, I’ll see him about it before he goes out to-morrow morning.”
“I think that will be best, dear. You see, in the present state of the offer, one has to rush things.”
“How much am I to ask him for?”
“Fifteen thousand pounds would do. I can manage the rest.”
“Oh, he’ll let me have that without any trouble at all. I’m sure of it. And if the other trustee was awkward, he’d advance it to me for the year out of his own pocket. Listen, there’s the music going again. Aren’t you going to dance with me to-night, Hamilton?”
“Ye-es, a waltz, or anything like that. But they’re playing that abominable barn-dance. I think it’s idiotic. Makes such a show of one’s self. Let’s sit it out here.”