“I would not. Paul, Kitty is a lady.”
“And the other?”
“Oh, there’s no use speaking; you are daft on the subject of that girl.”
“Well, at least,” said Mr. Wyndham, “Peggy had the grace not to ask for money for her Christmas present.”
“Who has asked for money?”
“Look at the list, my dear; the name is plain enough—Kitty Merrydew. See what she writes: ‘A little money would be a great boon.’”
“Poor child!” said Mrs. Wyndham. “Yes, of course, I’m sorry she has done this, but I fear she is really badly off, and yet she does not look poor; she dresses quite beautifully and with such taste.”
Wyndham took back the paper and slipped it into his pocket. “Miss Merrydew need not wait until Wednesday for her present,” he said, and presently he left his wife alone.
At tea-time a flat envelope, addressed to Miss Merrydew, lay on her plate. She opened it to see a five-pound note. She coloured with a mixture of anger and relief; she knew she had done a horribly low-down thing to ask for money, and all the reward she had got was five pounds. Her dreams had pictured twenty, perhaps thirty. When she saw Mr. Wyndham next she tried to thank him, but he pooh-poohed her words and left her abruptly, calling to Peggy to come out with him as he did so.
It had been arranged that Kitty must leave the Wyndhams’ in the course of a few days; she could stay until the last day of the old year, but not longer; then her room would be required for other guests. Now what was she to do? The Dodds had taken very little notice of her the night before when they came to see the charades, and Kitty had received on the following morning a long letter from Aunt Gloriana, in which she expressed satisfaction at her niece being in a nice, rich house.