Both laughed, and both felt suddenly the incongruity of laughter in that room. Charlotte went back to the chest of drawers whose contents she was ransacking, and continued:
“They say she sits all day counting her fingers and toes and calling them chickens and turkeys, and saying that she has the key of Gurthnamuckla in her pocket, and not a one can get into it without her leave.”
“And are you still on for it?” said Lambert, half reluctantly, as it seemed to Charlotte’s acute ear, “for if you are, now’s your time. I might have put her out of it two years ago for non-payment of rent, and I’ll just take possession and sell off what she has left behind her towards the arrears.”
“On for it? Of course I am. You might know I’m not one to change my mind about a thing I’m set upon. But you’ll have to let me down easy with the fine, Roddy. There isn’t much left in the stocking these times, and one or two of my poor little dabblings in the money-market have rather ‘gone agin me.’”
Lambert thought in a moment of those hundreds that had been lent to him, and stirred uneasily in his chair. “By the way, Charlotte,” he said, trying to speak like a man to whom such things were trifles, “about that money you lent me—I’m afraid I can’t let you have it back for a couple of months or so. Of course, I needn’t tell you, poor Lucy’s money was only settled on me for my life, and now there’s some infernal delay before they can hand even the interest over to me; but, if you don’t mind waiting a bit, I can make it all square for you about the farm, I know.”
He inwardly used a stronger word than infernal as he reflected that if Charlotte had not got that promise about the farm out of him when he was in a hole about money, he might have been able, somehow, to get it himself now.
“Don’t mention that—don’t mention that,” said Charlotte, absolutely blushing a little, “it was a pleasure to me to lend it to you, Roddy; if I never saw it again I’d rather that than that you should put yourself out to pay me before it was convenient to you.” She caught up a dress and shook its folds out with unnecessary vehemence. “I won’t be done all night if I delay this way. Ah! how well I remember this dress! Poor dear Lucy got it for Fanny Waller’s wedding. Who’d ever think she’d have kept it for all those years! Roddy, what stock would you put on Gurthnamuckla?”
“Dry stock,” answered Lambert briefly.
“And how about the young horses? You don’t forget the plan we had about them? You don’t mean to give it up, I hope?”
“Oh, that’s as you please,” replied Lambert. He was very much interested in the project, but he had no intention of letting Charlotte think so.