“Has the little reptile been worrying you about the money he lent you?”
“Reptile!” echoed Mr. Denison, trying to evade the question. “That is a strong word for a young lady to use, my dear. Not but what I have been disappointed in that young fellow. He seemed such a generous, open-hearted lad that I own he induced me to break my rule and allow him to accommodate me in a little difficulty I was in—”
“And are you out of the difficulty, papa?”
“Well, my dear, I am, in a sense out of that one. But difficulties have such a way of clinging together; where they’ve been once they come again.”
“And this wretched creature has been worrying you, then?”
“Well, he spoke to me about you in such a way that I was mad with myself for having allowed him to oblige me.”
“I think I can free you from that obligation, papa,” said she, gently. “Only you mustn’t ask where the money came from.”
“What?” cried he in astonishment. “My dear child, you are dreaming. I owe him thirty pounds.”
“Look here.”
She opened her little packet, and unfolded before him six five pound notes.