“It is to make no difference; you heard me say so. You wish it; she wishes it. I have promised.”
“I take you at your word. If you had discovered nothing you would have let me go into Matherham with you, and you would have told me the object of your going. Will you now?”
“Yes, if you like, Mr. Brander.” In spite of herself, her tone was more formal than usual. “I am going to get some money to repay a loan from that wretched little Fred Williams.”
“To your father, of course. And I suppose,” he added, glancing at the little parcel she carried in her hand, “you are going to sell some trinkets of your own to do so.”
“To help to do so,” answered Olivia, with a blush and a look of surprise at his perspicacity. “The whole sum is much more than anything of mine could fetch.”
“Will you tell me how much?”
“Thirty pounds!”
“And will you, as a pledge of what you said—that you will forget everything—do for me what I know you would not do for any other man?”
“What is that?”
“Let me lend you the money. I spend nothing. I have a considerable sum saved, and it will do me a pleasure—such a pleasure!” he added, earnestly, below his breath. “It would be a mark of confidence which would prove to me, whatever I may have done wrong—and my conscience is not too clear, I know, you know—prove to me that you have a little compassion, a little kindness, for me still.”