'Forgive me if I say you talk like the bigger child,' Fleetwood said lightly, not ungenially; for the features he looked on were museful, a picture in their one expression.
Her answer chilled him. 'It is true, my lord. I will not detain you.
I would beg to be supplied with money.'
He was like the leaves of a frosted plant, in his crisp curling inward:— he had been so genial.
'You have come to say good-bye, that an opportunity to—as you put it— beg for money. I am not sure of your having learnt yet the right disposal of money.'
'I beg, my lord, to have two thousand pounds a year allowed me.'
'Ten—and it's a task to spend the sum on a single household—shall be
alloted to your expenditure at Esslemont;—stables, bills, et caetera.
You can entertain. My steward Leddings will undertake the management.
You will not be troubled with payings.'
Her head acknowledged the graciousness.—'I would have two thousand pounds and live where I please.'
'Pardon me: the two, for a lady living where she pleases, exceeds the required amount.'
'I will accept a smaller sum, my lord.'
'Money!-it seems a singular demand when all supplies are furnished.'