“Without the money needed to maintain their position as marquis and marchioness of Crossley?”
I nodded assent.
“He has only about five thousand—twenty-five thousand of our money—a year. That is ridiculous for a marquis. He has to keep all his houses closed and run as economically as possible. Even then they cost him nearly seventy-five thousand dollars a year to maintain.”
“And he has only twenty-five thousand!”
“I meant twenty-five thousand over and above. He has that to live on. And, poor fellow, he is dropping every year deeper and deeper into debt. So much is expected of a marquis.”
“But not honesty, apparently,” said I.
“You mustn’t judge these people by our commercial standards,” she gently rebuked.
“I forgot,” said I penitently.
“And the poor fellow does love Margot so!”
“Um,” said I. “Have you ever happened to hear of a Miss Townley—Jupey Townley?”