“Hoity-toity! Not a beggar? H’m. No money wanted? Ha!” Mopius got up, in all the splendor of his well-clothed portliness. “How about that bill which falls due on the first? Ah, you see, I know. How about that, my Lady of the Horst?”
Ursula rose also. She was not too proud to accept assistance. But of some of our friends we know at once that their seeming favors cannot really be to our advantage. It is only a question of finding out.
“Does everybody in Drum know all about my affairs?” asked Ursula, her pale face turning very red.
“Everybody? Fie! am I everybody? Ursula, I can never forget that you are my own sister Mary’s only child.”
“No,” replied Ursula, “I suppose not.”
“But a good many people do know, undeniably. And that must end. It hurts my feelings. I am not a windbag of a noble. I am a simple gentleman, a hater of shams. I like money to ring clear on the counter, full weight.” Jacóbus patted his waistcoat-pocket. “So, Ursula, this is what I have to propose: Things can’t go on in the present manner, nor can I have my niece sold up. I offer to make you an annual payment of five thousand florins—”
“Uncle Jacóbus!”
Mynheer Mopius smiled with contented deprecation.