"The state of your affairs is not generally known," persisted the lawyer, "and a wife with a handsome dowry would mean getting back the deeds."
"No petticoats for me," I replied angrily.
"But if the petticoats mean comfort and freedom from money cares, would you not be wise to put aside your prejudice against them?"
"Anything but that," I cried, remembering Amelia Boscawen.
"Retrenchment or a wife," persisted the lawyer.
"Neither," I cried, angry that directly I came into my heritage I should find myself in such a fix.
The lawyer sighed.
"From whom did my father borrow?" I asked presently.
"Peter Trevisa," he replied.