This suggestion found no favour at all with Miss Grantham. She fired up at once, saying: “He must know very well that I am nothing of the kind! I don’t want him to be sorry for me. There is no reason why he should be!”
“Well, my love, perhaps he is sorry for me, and I am sure there is plenty of reason for that!”
Miss Grantham got up, kneading her hands together. “It must be paid!” she said.
“Paid?” gasped her aunt. “I can never pay the half of such sum.”
“Yes, yes, we always meant to pay the mortgage, my dear ma’am! It must be done!”
“I call it flying in the face of providence!” said Lady Bellingham, with strong feeling. “With all these other horrid bills of wine, and carriages, and green peas, and candles! I declare Deb, you are enough to try the patience of a saint!”
“Dear Aunt Lizzie, a run of luck, a little economy, and the thing is done!”
“You know we decided that it was impossible to live much cheaply than we do now, my love! Besides, there is Kit exchange to be thought of! Do but consider! If you do not like to write to Ravenscar I am very willing to do it for you.
“Certainly not! I will write to him myself. I will ask him to come to see me, and I will—yes, I will thank him, of course but I will make it plain to him that he shall be paid back every penny.”
“Next you will be wanting to pay him the interest!” said her ladyship.