“About how much do you think is owing to us?” pursued Mrs. Ludgate.
“I can’t tell, ma’am.”
“I wish then you’d settle accounts to-morrow, that I might have some ready money.”
The lady seemed to take it for granted that her having ready money would be the necessary and immediate consequence of settling accounts with Allen; her husband could have set her right in this particular, and could have informed her that not a farthing was due to him; that, on the contrary, he had taken up money in advance, on the next half year’s expected profits; but Mr. Ludgate was ashamed to let his wife know the real state of his affairs: indeed, he was afraid to look them in the face himself. “Here’s the boy coming back!” cried he, after watching for some time in silence at the window.
Leonard went to the street-door to meet him; and Belle followed close, crying, “Well! I hope Allen has sent me the money?”
“I don’t know,” said the breathless boy. “I have a letter for my master, here, that was written ready, by good luck, afore I got there.”
Leonard snatched the letter; and his wife waited to see whether the money was enclosed.
“The rascal has sent me no money, I see, but a letter, and an account as long as my arm.”
“No money!” cried Belle; “that’s using us very oddly and ill, indeed; and I wonder you submit to such conduct! I declare I won’t bear it! Go back, I say, Jack; go, run this minute, and tell Allen he must come up himself; for I, Mrs. Ludgate, wants to speak with him.”
“No, my dear, no; nonsense! don’t go, Jack. What signifies your sending to speak with Allen? What can you do? How can you settle accounts with him? What should women know of business? I wish women would never meddle with things they don’t understand.”