"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself," I said. "If you are rich, rich like that, think what good you ought to do with your money; think what grand use you ought to make of it; think of the people who are out of employment, and the poor young people—girls especially—who are so shamefully underpaid, and think of the hospitals that need more funds, and the big, great charities that are crying aloud for more help! If you want to be happy, to use your money right, you ought to give to all of these, and you ought to learn to give with discrimination and judgment. When I lived in the country Aunt Penelope taught me a lot about the right giving of charity, so I can understand. You need not be quite so frightfully rich if you give of your abundance to those who have much less; and if you not only give of your money, but of yourself, of your life, of all, or a greater part of your time, you'll be just awfully happy. People who do that sort of thing invariably are. Aunt Penelope says so, and she ought to know."
"Your Aunt Penelope must be a very wise woman. I should like to meet her; and that is a most brilliant idea. I wonder if it could be carried into effect?"
"Surely there is nothing to prevent it."
"Then, little Heather Grayson, will you help me to carry it into effect?"
"I wish I could; but how can I? I am such a very young girl."
I began to find him less interesting than I had done a minute ago. I pushed a big sofa-pillow between my back and the edge of the sofa; I pined for eleven o'clock on the following day.
"I must make my meaning plain," he said. "I want someone just like you, young, and pure, and innocent, and, I believe, holy—to help me, to live with me, to be my—oh! I want someone whom I could train and—whom I could love."
"A sort of companion," I said, in some amazement; "or, perhaps, you mean an adopted daughter; but then, you see, I am father's daughter, although he has married Lady Helen."
"Ah, poor child!" he said. "I can quite see that you are your father's daughter, although he has married Lady Helen. But tell me—do you really think me old enough to be your father?"
"But, of course—yes, Lord Hawtrey, you are."