“That other,” said Mr Trevithick, beaming at her again, being silently snubbed, and collapsing once more. “As I make it, Miss Gartram,” he continued, in the most stern and business way, “you inherit from my late respected client, your father, the freehold quarry, this residence, also freehold and of great value, while the quarry is almost inexhaustible; the furniture and plate, good debts, etcetera, and five hundred and twenty-seven thousand eight hundred and forty-nine pounds, seven shillings and four-pence, including half-a-sheet of stamps.”
“Indeed?” said Claude, with a sigh.
“What bad news!” said Mary, with preternatural solemnity.
“That is to come, Miss Dillon,” said Trevithick, with a look of triumph which met so sharp a glance that it was turned aside on the instant, and he took refuge in his papers.
“Yes, madam,” he repeated, “that is to come. There is a very serious deficit, Miss Gartram. I find that there should have been five hundred and sixty-eight thousand, eight hundred and forty-nine, seven and four-pence—a deficit, you see, of forty-one thousand pounds—I need not add, a very large sum.”
“Yes,” said Claude quietly.
“Yes,” said Trevithick. “Well, madam, what have you to say?”
“Nothing, Mr Trevithick.”
“But really, my dear madam, I think you ought to say something about this sum, and give me some instructions what to do to recover it.”
Claude shook her head gravely.