She assented, but not with the enthusiasm that had marked her earlier eulogy. She seemed, in fact, to have become a little distrait, and Jack, remarking the fact, suggested a canter.
They met several people whom they knew before they turned homewards, and it was not until they were leaving the Park that any further conversation was possible.
Then very suddenly Chris reined in and spoke. "Jack, before we go back, I want to ask you something."
"Well?" said Jack.
She made a pathetic little gesture towards him, and touched his knee with her riding-switch. Her blue eyes besought him very earnestly. "Jack, we—we are pals, aren't we? Or I couldn't possibly ask it of you. Jack, I—I've been foolish—and extravagant. And—" she became suddenly breathless—"I want twenty pounds—to pay some debts. Jack, could you—would you—"
"You monkey!" said Jack.
"I couldn't help it," she declared piteously. "I've spent a frightful lot
of money lately. I don't know how it goes. It runs away like water. But
I—want to get out of debt, Jack. If you will help me just this once,
I'll pay you back when—when—when I'm married."
"Good heavens, child!" he said. "You shall have it twice over if you like. But why on earth didn't you tell me before? Don't you know it's very naughty to run up debts?"
She nodded. "Yes, I know. But I couldn't help it. There were things I wanted. And London is such an expensive place. You do understand, dear Jack, don't you?"
Jack thought he did. He was, moreover, too fond of his young cousin to treat her with severity. But he considered it his duty to deliver a brief lecture on the dangers of insolvency, to which Chris listened with becoming docility, thanking him with a quick, sweet smile when he had done.