“What in the world do you mean?” Florence coloured.
“I see he has not told you,” she said. “He ought to. It was not right of him to leave it to me. But I will tell you: I don’t really mind.”
“Oh—do speak out, child! You keep me so frightfully in suspense I can scarcely endure myself.”
“Well,” said Florence, “you would not care to keep us for nothing, would you?”
“Nothing! nothing! What does the girl mean? Why, surely you are rich? I gave Major Reid to understand yesterday that your yearly income must run into four figures. We were divided as to the amount, but I thought fifteen hundred a year each. Florence, what are you alluding to?”
Florence turned very white.
“It is awful only to be cared for because one has money,” she said. “Well, there is one person who cares for me quite independently of that. And now I will tell you the truth. I have not any money—that is, I have a few pounds. Mr Timmins gave me ten pounds yesterday, and I shall have a few more pounds before all our affairs are wound up, but something quite inconsiderable. I am as poor as a church mouse, and so is Brenda. Our money was spent on our education. Now it is finished, all used up. We are penniless. Now—now—you know all about us.”
Florence stood up as she spoke and extended her arms wide as though to emphasise her own words.
“We are penniless,” she repeated. “Now you know.”
Mrs Fortescue was absolutely silent for a minute. Then she uttered a violent ejaculation and, turning round on her heel, left the room. She slammed—absolutely slammed the door after her. Florence sat very still after she had gone.