"Of course I will!" He tried to laugh. "Yes, it was money, Aunt Magda. You see, I knew we were going to be invited to the Hulsons' to-morrow; and Nora needed a new dress—and there were other expenses——
"Miles Ingestre, for instance?" she suggested bitterly.
"It was another mouth to feed," he admitted. "Nora's father doesn't understand that we are not rich. He hears that we invite and are invited, and so he thinks—naturally enough—that we can afford to keep Miles for a few months. And Nora does not quite understand either; so I sold Bruno to smooth things over."
He did not tell her what she none the less guessed—that many of Wolff's scanty gold pieces had found their way into his guest's pockets by means of the simple formula, "I'll pay you back as soon as the pater's cheque arrives." Which event had, so far, never taken place.
Frau von Arnim rose and, going to her writing-table, drew out a thick envelope, which she put in his hands.
"It is our gift to you," she said. "I have been keeping it for—for any time when you might want a little extra, and I should like you to have it now. Perhaps you could get Bruno back."
"I can't!" he protested almost angrily. "Do you think I do not know what you have already given up for my sake—your friends, your home, your comfort?"
"And do you not know that all has no value for me compared to the one thing?" she answered, looking him steadily in the face. "I want you to remember that, should any greater trouble come, any sacrifice would be gladly borne rather than disgrace."
"Disgrace!" he echoed, with a stern contraction of the brows. "Of what are you afraid, Aunt Magda?"
"I do not know. I only wanted your promise that you would always come to me. As to this little gift"—her tone became lighter—"it would be an insult to our relationship to refuse it. I cannot allow my nephew to ride to war on an old charger. Surely you will allow me to throw this sop to the family pride?"