"I don't understand, mother. How is he ruined?"
"The great Norwegian firm with which he traded has failed; and as if that were not enough, rumours are floating to-day that the Central Bank is likely to stop payment to-morrow."
Salome's bewildered expression struck her mother as pathetic. "She is only a child," she was saying to herself; "she does not take it in."
Presently Salome said with a deep-drawn breath, "Has father all his money in the bank, then?"
"All his private fortune; and then, if he has to stop trading as a timber merchant, the loss will be—simply ruin, Salome."
"This house is ours, isn't it?" the girl asked.
"My dear child, ours no longer if it has to be sold to meet the debts—the liabilities, as they are called. But do not say a word to any one to-day. There is just this chance, the rumours about the Central Bank may be false. Your father's partners incline to the hope that it may prove so; but I have no hope, no hope. Oh, your father's face of misery is more than I can bear! At his age, to have everything taken from him!"
"Not everything, mother; he has got you."
"What am I? A poor weak woman, never strong, never fitted for much exertion. What will become of the children?"
"I will do my best, mother," Salome said. "I will do all I can."