"Whatever do you mean by that? Then we do get mumsie's fortune. I said so to Daisy last night. When I want to tease her I call her Dysy."
"I don't think I care to listen to your remarks," said Mr. Debenham. "Your poor mother died in a very terrible way."
"Oh, don't tell me, or I'll shriek," said Daisy. "Hold me, Henny, hold me, Henny; I'll shriek!"
"Silly child," said the lawyer, "have you no self-control? I have spoken to the head-mistress of your school, Mrs. Henderson, and she understands that owing to circumstances you are not to remain here after the summer holidays. That is the wish of your step-father and guardian, the Reverend Patrick O'Brien. You will probably be sent to another school, which I will recommend."
"But our money—the chink," said Daisy; "that's the main thing."
"You get your share, Miss Daisy. Your mother's money is divided into seven portions. Until you come of age, or marry, a certain portion will be spent on your education. After that the capital will be yours to do as you wish with. You each of you have, roughly speaking, about thirteen thousand pounds."
"Is that all?" cried Henrietta. "Why, mumsie said that we were heiresses!"
"You are, to that extent."
"But she said we should have at least fifty thousand between us, and she was going to bring us out in Dublin, and we were going to have no end of larks. What do you mean by saying that we'll have thirteen thousand pounds each?"
"How old are you, Miss Mostyn?"