“Exactly.”
“I hope you approve of Silverbel, Ogilvie; it is really cheap at the price; and, of course, everyone knows that you have returned a very rich man. It would have been pleasanter for me had you been at home when the purchase was made, but Mrs. Ogilvie was insistent. She had taken a strong fancy to the place. There were several other less expensive country places in the market, but the only one which would please her was Silverbel. I cabled to you, but got no reply. Your wife implored me to act, and I lent her the deposit. The purchase must be completed at the end of October, in about a month from now. I hope you don’t blame me, Ogilvie?”
“I don’t blame you—I understand my wife. It would have been difficult to refuse her. Of course, had you done so matters might have been a little easier for me now. As it is, I will pay you back the deposit. I have my cheque-book with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I should like to write a cheque for you now. I must get this matter put straight, and, Acland, you must find another purchaser.”
“Not really!” cried Mr. Acland. “The place is beautiful, and cheap at the price, and you have come back a rich man.”
“On the contrary, I have returned to England practically a pauper.”
“No!” cried Mr. Acland; “but the report of the Lombard Deeps——”
“Hush, you will know all soon. It is sufficient for you at present to receive the news in all confidence that I am a ruined man. Not that it matters. There will be a trifle for my wife—nothing else concerns me. May I fill in this cheque?”
“You can do so, of course,” replied Acland. “I shall receive the money in full sooner or later from the other purchaser, and then you can have it back.”