“Remember,” said Lady Nancy gently, “that Pope published his Iliad by subscription, Mr. Burns.”
He remained silent a moment, then after a little struggle with his obstinate pride, he answered with a touch of bitterness in his voice, “I realize that I am in no position to despise any means to add to my income or to leave my family better provided for after I am gone. I will take your advice and will at once speak to my dear friend Aiken about it. He will aid me.”
The door opened and Jean entered the room. She had heard all the good news, and having met both the Duke and Lady Nancy while sojourning at Glencairn Castle a few years before, she felt she ought to thank them for their good offices in Robert’s behalf.
Lady Nancy and the Duke greeted her warmly, asked after the health of the children, expressed pleasure in seeing her again, and soon put her at her ease, for the sudden thought of her hasty marriage to Robert and the attendant slanderous gossip at first made her feel and appear self-conscious and restrained.
“I was just telling Robert,” said the old Duke, “that he must go at once to the seashore.” She looked at her husband, and her wistful expression did not escape the keen eyes of Lady Nancy.
“If he only could go at once,” faltered Jean, “I am sure the water would effect a cure, but——”
Nancy gave her father a significant look, which clearly said, “They have no money, father.” At least, so he interpreted it, aided by his own shrewd guess at the state of affairs.
“By the way, Robert,” he said jocularly, “can you swallow your pride sufficiently to accept a month’s salary in advance?” He pulled out a large, well-filled wallet and opened it.
“We do not need it, my lord,” answered Robert firmly and a trifle coldly. “I am expecting——” Here Jean hurriedly interrupted him, knowing what he was about to say.
“Oh, Robert!” she cried contritely, “I forget to tell you that the Posty left no letter.”