With a shrug of her graceful shoulders Kitty turned again to Mrs. Crozier, who intervened hastily, saying, “I did not have a chance of saying to him all I wished. Of course he could not take my money, but there was his own money! I was going to tell him about that, but just then the lawyer, Mr. Burlingame—”
“They all call him ‘Gus’ Burlingame. He doesn’t get the civility of Mr. here in Askatoon,” interposed Kitty.
Mona made an impatient gesture. “If you will listen, I want to tell you about Mr. Crozier’s money. He thinks he has no money, but he has. He has a good deal.”
She paused, and the Young Doctor and Kitty leaned forward eagerly. “Well, but go on,” said Kitty. “If he has money he must have it to-day, and now. Certainly he doesn’t know of it. He thinks he is broke,—dead broke,—and there’d be a hundred and fifty thousand dollars for him if he could put up ten thousand dollars to-night. If I were you I wouldn’t hide it from him any longer.”
Mona got to her feet in anger. “If you would give me a chance to explain, I would do so,” she said, her lips trembling. “Unfortunately, I am in your hands, but please give me credit for some intelligence—and some heart. In any case I shall not be bullied.”
The Young Doctor almost laughed outright, despite the danger of the situation. He was not prepared for Kitty’s reply and the impulsive act that marched with it. In an instant Kitty had caught Mona Crozier’s hand and pressed it warmly. “I was only doing what I’ve seen lawyers do,” she said eagerly. “I’ve got something that I want you to do, and I’ve been trying to work up to it. That’s all. I’m not as mean and bad mannered as you think me. I really do care what happens to him—to you both,” she hastened to add.
Struggling to keep back her tears, and in a low voice, Mona rejoined: “I meant to have told him what I’m going to tell you now. I couldn’t say anything about the money belonging to him till I had told him how it came to be his.”
After a moment’ pause she continued: “He told you all about the race which Flamingo lost, and about that letter.” She pointed to the letter which Kitty still carried in her hand. “Well, that letter was written under the sting of bitter disappointment. I was vain. I was young. I did not understand as I do now. If you were not such good friends—of his—I could not tell you this. It seemed to me that by breaking his pledge he showed he did not care for me; that he thought he could break a sacred pledge to me, and it didn’t matter. I thought it was treating me lightly—to do it so soon after the pledge was given. I was indignant. I felt we weren’t as we might be, and I felt, too, that I must be at fault; but I was so proud that I didn’t want to admit it, I suppose, when he did give me a grievance. It was all so mixed. I was shocked at his breaking his pledge, I was so vexed that our marriage hadn’t been the success it might have been, and I think I was a little mad.”
“That is not the monopoly of only one of your sex,” interposed the Young Doctor dryly. “If I were you I wouldn’t apologise for it. You speak to a sister in like distress.”
Kitty’s eyes flamed up, but she turned her head, as though some licensed libertine of speech had had his say, and looked with friendly eyes at Mona. “Yes, yes—please go on,” she urged.