“I’m infernally sorry for you, Annabel,” he said, when he had cooled down a little. “As you know, what with Charles’s cursed extravagance, to say nothing of my lady’s, I have nothing at command.”
“I never supposed, for one moment, that you would have, Haredale,” said his sister, emphatically. “Nor am I reduced to beggary. I can lessen my expenses. But if I do so, what can I do for Amethyst? Her life would be cut down to the narrowest limits. I could not possibly introduce her in London, which seems to me essential, in her position—all I had saved for the purpose is gone. I cannot tell you what it would cost me to resign the charge which I undertook. But of course you must decide for her as you think best.”
“It’s deuced bad luck,” said Lord Haredale. “You see, I got my lady down to Cleverley, on the plea that she could come up for two or three weeks when you had Amethyst in town. But as to a London house, and bringing the girl out ourselves, it’s impossible.”
“In that case, she might wait another year; we might manage to keep her at school a year longer?” said Miss Haredale, anxiously.
“Ay, but you see,” said Lord Haredale, “her mother tells me she’s going to be a beauty.”
“Yes, she is,” said Miss Haredale, dejectedly.
“That alters the question. She might make a good match. You know my lady won’t be jealous of her, and keep her back. That never was her way. She treated Blanche like a sister—dressed her up to the nines on every occasion—though she wasn’t her own child.”
“If I thought that Blanche’s story—” began Miss Haredale, vehemently.
“Blanche was a fool,” said Lord Haredale, “she was born so. Perhaps Amethyst ain’t.”
“Amethyst is a good, high-minded girl, with plenty of sense. But she’s as innocent as a child, and how do I know how she may turn out? Oh, Haredale, I came to tell you my trouble, and to offer her back, because I had promised that she should be brought out this year, and I felt that it was due to the family. I do care for the old name, Haredale, but I believe I am a worldly-minded woman. Let her grow a bit older, and then we shall see. Down with me, she’ll be as fresh as a rose at twenty.”