And then it occurred to him that he had still just enough money to solve the present problem. If that expression of the wish to emigrate had been sincere, he might free his cousin by offering him the loan of, say two hundred pounds. It would, in any case, be interesting to see whether or not he would accept the chance if it were given to him. But he knew, even as the will to help Hubert rose up in him, that he was afraid.
Old Kenyon would surely find out who had advanced that money and then he would.... Arthur was not quite sure what he would do, but he feared the consequences. He might be turned out of Hartling; he would certainly lose any hope of that future remuneration for which he was now working.
The thought of making an offer flashed through his mind and was rejected. He must, at least, have his three months.
"Oh! cheer up, old man," he advised the gloomy Hubert with an assumption of hopefulness. "Things are never as bad as you think they're going to be. Something will happen, right enough."
"There's only one thing that'll help me," Hubert muttered, as they once more continued their walk.
"And that's bound to happen sooner or later," Arthur returned. "I dare say you won't have to wait much longer."
Hubert gave a little snort of impatience. "Jolly fine," he said; "but the pater, for instance, has been practically waiting all his life."
Arthur was stirred to candour. "In a way," he said, "but I don't suppose it has worried him much."
"Hasn't it? You ask him," retorted Hubert.