"Not far from it, I'm afraid. Now don't make a fuss. I rely on you to break the news of the mines to him before Mr. Bullard arrives this morning. Mr. Bullard will give him the details, no doubt. Another thing; you must persuade Mr. Bullard to get rid of that debt we have mentioned. He has his own difficulties at present, I should imagine, but he is not the man to be beaten by a sum like twenty-five thousand pounds. We cannot have scandal—disgrace. You have done much for your father already—that I freely admit—but at this crisis you must do more.—My smelling salts are behind you."
Doris had swayed, but she recovered herself, though her face was white and desperate.
"Mother, that money you have—"
"I'm afraid you are going to be shocked, Doris, but I had better tell you at once that the money is mine."
"Yours!" It was a shock, a dreadful shock, and yet Doris had come to her mother's room full of ghastly apprehensions. "Oh, but you can't mean it!"
"My dear girl, can I be franker? Call it anything you like, theft, if you fancy the word; but the money is mine. I decline to go into the gutter for any one."
"But—dear God!—don't you realise what your keeping it will mean to father? Yes, you do! You know too well—"
"I have shown you a way out of that difficulty. Mr. Bullard will do anything you ask—"
"And what am I to say to father?"
"Nothing!—unless you wish to kill him. For Heaven's sake, take a reasonable view of the matter. A year hence your father will probably bless me for what I have done. A thousand a year is always something. As for Mr. Craig, he will have helped even more practically than he thought. Of course, your taste in accepting money from one man while engaged to another is open to question."