“Were you, though? What is it?”
“Well, you see, Elbraham, living, as I do, a woman’s life, I am so ignorant of business matters.”
“Of course you are,” he responded. “Want to make your will?”
“No, no, no, no! horrid man! How can you?” she cried, whipping him playfully with her sunshade. “I want you to tell me what it means when a gentleman is short of money and he goes to somebody to get a bill discounted.”
“Simplest thing in the world. If the paper’s good,” said Elbraham, “discount accordingly. I never touch bills now.”
“No?” she said sweetly; “but then you are so rich. But that is it, Elbraham—if the paper’s good, discount accordingly? What do you call it—the bill? Well, it is easy to have it on the very best note-paper.”
“Haw, haw, haw! bless your ladyship’s innocence!” cried Elbraham, with a hoarse laugh. “By paper being good I mean that the man who signs his name is substantial—can pay up when it comes to maturity.”
“Oh!” said Lady Littletown, drawing out the interjection in a singularly long way, “I see now. And that is how a gentleman raises money, is it?”
“Yes, that’s it,” said Elbraham, eyeing her ladyship curiously.
“Would not a lady do?” asked Lady Littletown.