“And Lady Marion herself?” suggested the librarian, with malice.
Rees laughed rather self-consciously.
“Poor girls! They must have some creature to talk to, especially now, for this fright about scarlet fever has caused his lordship to give orders for them to remain shut up here all through the London season.”
“And do you believe that, being as fond of you as his lordship is, that his daughter would not be able to talk him round?”
“I am sure she would not. I know the earl.”
“So do I; and I say he would.”
Rees shrugged his shoulders. He was rather impressed by the tone of quiet conviction of the elder man. After a short pause he said, hesitatingly:
“He might, perhaps, if I had money. But as it is——”
“Ah, that want of money—that fatal, miserable want of money. That’s the pinch; yes, that’s always the pinch,” burst out Amos, with surprising energy. “How many a promising, brilliant young man—and yet not so brilliant as—well, as some I know, either—how many have been wrecked on that shoal! What might I not have done myself in the world, with the moderate abilities I have and with perseverance, if it had not been for that curse, want of money. Yes, there’s the rub.”
There was a pause. The younger man was lost in thought, the elder was watching him. Rees woke out of his reverie with a start, and a laugh which was, perhaps, a shade less light-hearted than usual.