“Nay, Madam! do you forget that you paid me first—that I owe unto you mine own self and my very life? From the time we came hither I have seen pretty clearly which way Aubrey was going; and having failed to stay him, methought my next duty was to save all I could, that you should not at some after-time be cumbered with his debts. Mr Rookwood’s and Patrick’s, whereof I knew, have I discharged; and the other, for which I have a sufficiency, will I deal withal to-morrow, so that you can tell Aubrey he is not a penny in debt—”
“Save to thee, my darling boy.”
“There are no debts between brothers, Madam, or should not be.”
“Hans, thou downright angel, do forgive me!” burst from Temperance.
“Dear Mrs Temperance, I should make a very poor angel; but I will forgive you with all mine heart when I know wherefore I should do it.”
“Why, lad, here have I been, like an old curmudgeon as I am, well-nigh setting thee down as a penny-father, because I knew not what thou didst with thy money. It was plain as a pikestaff what Aubrey did with his, for he set it all out on his back; but thy habit is alway plain and decent, and whither thy crowns went could I never tell. Eh, but I am sorry I misjudged thee thus! ’tis a lesson for me, and shall be my life long. I do believe thou art the best lad ever trod shoe-leather.”
“Well, ’tis a very proper deed, Hans, and I am glad to see in you so right a feeling,” said Mrs Louvaine.
“The Lord bless thee, my boy!” added Lady Louvaine, with emotion. “But how may I suffer thee to pay Aubrey’s debts?”
“I scarce see how you shall set about to help it, Madam,” said Hans with a little laugh of pleasure. “I thank God I have just enough to pay all.”
“And leave thyself bare, my boy?” said Edith.