“They shall have a jolly picking that pick out thee!” growled Aunt Rachel.
“Or to have open door of full many honourable houses,—and good credit, that there is not a craftsman in London that should not count it honour to serve me with such goods as I might choose?” pursued Jack.
“A mighty barren honour, Jack, on thine own showing.”
“Jack!” interposed Sir Thomas, who had seemed deep in thought for a minute, “tell me honestly,—of this five thousand pound, if so be, how much was lost at the dice?”
“Why, Sir!—you did not count I should reckon my debts of honour?”
Sir Thomas groaned within himself.
“Debts of honour!” cried Rachel. “What, be there a parcel more?”
“These be trade-debts, Aunt!” said Jack, with an injured air,—“debts that I can defray or leave, as it may stand with conveniency. My debts of honour must be paid, of course!—I looked to your bounty, Sir, for that. They be not much—but a light thousand or twelve hundred pound, I take it.”
That is to say, about 15,000 pounds to 18,000 pounds.
“Jack!” said his father, “dost remember thou hast two sisters yet unwed?”