“I am settled in life, father,” said Claude firmly. “I do not intend to leave you.”
“Thank you, my darling. Very good and filial of you,” said Gartram, taking and holding her hand. “One moment, the room is very warm; I’ll open the window.”
“Let me open it, dear,” said Claude; and she went and threw open the French window, returning directly to sit down, her countenance growing a little hard.
“Now, then, child, we may as well understand each other at once.”
“Yes, papa, if you wish it.”
“Well, my darling, I began life as a very poor man. I had a good name, but I was a pauper.”
“Not so bad as that, papa?”
“Worse. The worst kind of pauper—a gentleman without an income, and with no means of making one. But there, you know what I have done; and I can say now that, thanks to my determined industry, I have honourably made a great fortune. Well, you don’t look pleased.”
“No, dear; I often think you would have been happier without the money.”
“Silly child! You have had your every wish gratified, and do not know the value of a fortune. Some day you will. Well, my dear, I am growing old.”