Mrs. Little wrote at once to Mr. Raby for her money.
Instead of lending the trust-money hastily, Raby submitted the proposal to his solicitor, and that gentleman soon discovered the vaunted security was a second mortgage, with interest overdue on the first; and so he told Guy, who then merely remarked, “I expected as much. When had a tradesman any sense of honor in money matters? This one would cheat his very wife and child.”
He declined the proposal, in two words, “Rotten security!”
Then Mr. James Little found another security that looked very plausible, and primed his wife with arguments, and she implored Guy to call and talk it over with them both.
He came that very afternoon, and brought his father's will.
Then Edith offered the security, and tried to convey to the trustee her full belief that it was undeniable.
Guy picked terrible holes in it, and read their father's will, confining the funds to consols, or a first mortgage on land. “You take the money on these conditions: it is almost as improper of you to wish to evade them, as it would be of me to assist you. And then there is your child; I am hound in honor not to risk his little fortune. See, here's my signature to that.”
“My child!” cried Edith. “When he comes of age, I'll go on my knees to him and say, 'My darling, I borrowed your money to save your father's credit.' And my darling will throw his arms round me, and forgive me.”
“Simpleton!” said Guy. “And how about your daughters and their husbands? And their husbands' solicitors? Will they throw their arms round your neck, and break forth into twaddle? No! I have made inquiries. Your husband's affairs are desperate. I won't throw your money into his well; and you will both live to thank me for seeing clearer than you do, and saving this L1900 for you and yours.”
James Little had writhed in his chair for some time: he now cried out wildly,