"Oh! deuce take ceremony," exclaimed Sir Rupert. "See if you can do any thing to assist me. Lord Tremordyn has literally cut me; and Lady Tremordyn is as stingy as the devil. Besides, she and Lady Cecilia have quarrelled; and so there is no hope in that quarter."
"I really cannot assist you any farther—at present," observed Greenwood. "In a short time I shall be enabled to let you into a good thing, as I told you a little while ago: but for the moment—"
"Come, Greenwood," interrupted the baronet; "do not refuse me. I will give you a post-obit on the old lord: he is sure to leave me something handsome at his death."
"Yes—but he may settle it upon your wife in such a manner that you will not be able to touch it."
"Suppose that Lady Cecilia will join me in the security?"
"Insufficient still. Lord Tremordyn may bequeath her ladyship merely a life interest, without power to touch the capital."
"Well—what the devil can I do?" exclaimed the baronet, almost distracted. "Point out some means—lay down some plan—do any thing you like—but don't refuse some assistance."
Mr. Greenwood reflected for some minutes; and this time his thoughtful manner was not affected. It struck him that he might effect a certain arrangement in this instance by which he might get the baronet completely in his power, and lay out some money at an enormous interest at the same time.
"You see," said Mr. Greenwood, "you have not an atom of security to offer me."
"None—none," answered Sir Rupert: "I know of none—if you will not have the post-obit."