"I thought so too; perhaps there are a lot more. I never had the courage to add them all up."
"Unless one can pay them there's not much point in doing so," said Fritz, with indifference; then, partly out of curiosity, partly from real interest, he asked, "What other debts have you then, father?"
"All over the place; the bills are turning grey with age, and some indeed are really primeval."
"In that case a lot of them are no longer valid."
"But Fritz," cried Hildegarde, "you surely wouldn't take advantage of that? The tradesmen must have their money."
"Very easy to say that, but where is it to come from?" objected the major. "I haven't any money—at any rate, not for the moment."
"Have you any bills or I O U's out?" inquired Fritz. "You must not be offended with me for asking you this, but I have been to a certain extent your business agent to-day. I should like to have a clear idea of how matters stand."
"No," his father assured him, "I have never given any of these, but I am indebted to all my friends; one for four thousand (£250), another three thousand (£150), a third a thousand (£50), and so on."
"Oh, well, you need not grow grey because of these; whoever lends money to a friend knows perfectly well in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand he will not get it back again. And I really see absolutely no reason why you should be the exception. Whoever lent you money knew perfectly well he would not see it again."
"Yes, yes, that is all very well," grumbled the old major, "but the people only lent me the money because I told them of Hildegarde's prospective engagement."