“You are rich, you are your own mistress, and you have a right to do as you please, my dear young lady, whatever the world may say,” assented Mr Jabez, tapping the lid of his snuff-box, which seemed as if it would not keep out of his hand.
“The fact is, Mr Rowle,” continued Miss Carr, “there is a gentleman—a friend of Antony Grace here, who is struggling to perfect a new invention—a great invention.”
Mr Jabez bowed, gazing at her animated countenance with open admiration the while.
“To perfect this invention, money is wanted.”
“Exactly,” said Mr Jabez, tapping his box softly. “Money is always useful.”
“I wish this gentleman to have that money—as much as is necessary.”
“You are rich; you are your own mistress; you have a right to do as you please, my dear young lady, whatever the world may say,” said Mr Jabez, harping upon her words once more. “It is easily settled. Give it him.”
“No,” said Miss Carr, speaking with animation, “it is not easy. You forget what I say. This inventor is a gentleman.”
“And would be too proud to take the money?” said Mr Jabez quickly.
“Yes,” said Miss Carr. “He would not stoop to be under such an obligation. He would feel insulted—that he was lowering himself. I wish to help him,” she said excitedly. “I would do anything to help him; but my hands are tied.”