“Do not always come forward in their place. Just so! And I am to understand that you are deputed by these various charities and organisations to plead their cause and collect subscriptions?”
Nan cleared her throat vigorously. It was the only way she could think of by which to gain time, and decide how to evade the question.
“They are most grateful for all they can get. The committee would send you an acknowledgment of your subscription. It would be better to send it direct, instead of giving it to me. I just wish to call your attention—to tell you particulars and enlist your interest—”
“Just so!” said Mr Vanburgh again; and Nan fancied that there was a slight softening in the watching eyes. “Just so. And for what special charity do you wish to plead to-day?”
“For the Home for Incurables!”
“Ah!” The word came with a hiss from between closed teeth. “Indeed! You choose your object well, madam! I congratulate you on your discretion. The cause is truly fitting.”
She had made a false move this time, there was no doubt about it, for the old man’s voice was sharp with displeasure; but blundering Nan could not even now imagine wherein lay the offence.
She gaped at him, with a stammering—
“Fitting! Why fitting? I don’t understand what you mean!”
“Only that being incurable myself, I need your charity every whit as much as those for whom you come asking help—”