Angela, sitting beside Mrs. Alexander, made the most of her opportunity. She managed to ferret out just how much money Dodo would inherit, and what Mrs. Alexander might be persuaded to do for an acceptable husband for the girl. So cleverly was this information secured that the informer failed to realize she was being “put through the third degree.”
Angela was a sweet pretty girl but had experienced so many unpleasant sacrifices since her father’s tremendous losses that she had grown callous to all higher feelings. Her sole ambition, now, was to secure her future either by Jimmy’s marriage to money, or by her own escape from the bondage of poverty by marriage.
She fully realized that most desirable young men in England were in the same position as her father and brother, hence she had not much choice of escape that way. But with Jimmy—upon him rested the salvation of the family and its debts.
Mr. Fabian was still talking “antiques” when the cars reached Gloucester, so Jimmy steered through, by way of side streets, and then drove through the famous cotswolds, on the way to Worcester.
A few miles this side of Worcester, Polly spied a very old-looking house standing under a group of giant trees which must have been hundreds of years old.
“Oh, I just know there will be old pieces in that place!” exclaimed she, leaning forward eagerly.
“Stop, Jimmy! Oh, do make him stop, Prof!” cried Eleanor.
“Do!” added Dodo. “We are almost in Worcester, anyway, so a few minutes more won’t matter.”
“Everyone is so tired with the drive, I don’t see why we must halt again,” complained Mrs. Alexander, impatiently.
“Suppose your car drives on, then, and we will stop to inquire if we can secure any old things,” suggested Mr. Fabian.