“There are one or two whom I would like to have,” she said, “but they are all living either at home or with relatives. The others I am afraid about. They seem to like to sit up so late and—”
“You are quite right,” he interrupted hastily,—“quite right. You are better alone. But you ought to have a servant.”
She laughed.
“On two pounds fifteen a week?” she asked. “You must remember that I could not even live here, only I have practically no rent to pay.”
He fidgeted for a moment.
“Miss Zoe,” he said, “I am perfectly serious when I tell you that I have money which should go to your brother. Why will you not let me alter your arrangements just a little? I cannot bear to think of you here all alone.”
“It is very kind of you,” she answered doubtfully; “but please, no. Somehow, I think that it would spoil everything if I accepted that sort of help from you. If you have any money of Arthur’s, keep it for a time and I think when you write him—I do not want to seem grasping—but I think if he has any to spare you might suggest that he does give me just a little. I have never had anything from him at all. Perhaps he does not quite understand how hard it is for me.
“I will do that, of course,” Laverick answered, “but I wish you would let me at least pay over a little of what I consider due to you. I will take the responsibility for it. It will come from him and not from me.”
She remained unconvinced.
“I would rather wait,” she said. “If you really want to give me something, I will let you—out of my brother’s money, of course, I mean,” she added. “I haven’t anything saved at all, or I wouldn’t have that. But one day you shall take me out and buy me a dress and hat. You can tell Arthur directly you write to him. I don’t mind that, for sometimes I do feel ashamed—I did the other night to have you sit with me there, and to feel that I was dressed so very differently from all of them.”