"I don't think you have much to grumble at," said Violet Lancing.
Camilla looked up at her and frowned slightly, then she smiled.
"Let us get it over," she said. "I can see that you have come here to scold to-day."
"Horace has been waiting to hear from you as you promised," said Mrs. Horace, stiffly. "You had your quarter's allowance quite six weeks ago, and you have never written."
Camilla frowned again, this time sharply; she was shielding her face with her two hands. She had expected the usual tirade; not this. So Horace had given her away! How mean of him! She had never supposed that he would have confided in Violet.
"I am so sorry," she began, and then she stopped with a quick sigh. She was so weary, so unutterably weary of this kind of thing! There came upon her a reckless sort of feeling to speak out frankly, and send this woman to the uttermost ends of the earth, or to perdition; the latter for choice.
"I don't think you know what it means to us," said Violet Lancing, getting agitated. "If Horace had told me about your letter when it came in the summer, I should never have permitted him to lend you that money. I only found it out by chance the other day, and I must say I am surprised, Camilla, that you should have gone to Horace for help. You know perfectly well that we have the hardest work to get along on what we have. I suppose you think grandpa does a lot for us," ... here the speaker laughed shortly. "As he almost ruined himself over Ned, you see, he has no money to give to any of the rest of the family!"
"And naturally Ned's widow and children are eating him out of house and home," Camilla said. She had grown pale. Except on occasions like this she never spoke her dead husband's name.
"I am not grumbling about that, Camilla. You have a right to be provided for, especially as Ned treated you so badly. But you ought to manage better, and I can only repeat that you have no right to borrow from us. Horace advanced you a hundred pounds last August, and you promised faithfully to give it back to him when grandpa sent you your quarter's cheque. A hundred pounds is not a hundred pence," said Mrs. Horace, sententiously; "it isn't to be picked up every day."
Camilla got up and kicked the stool away.