“He has had enough excitement for one day,” Mollie said; “let him be quiet to-night. To-morrow morning we will send up mother’s letter for him to read, and ask to see him as soon as possible after breakfast. That will give him time to think over the situation and decide what to do. He must guess that we will want to return home, but if he wishes to keep us he can easily do so. Oh, to think that with a few strokes of the pen he could make us all happy again! I don’t know how much money the pater needs, but it would probably be the tiniest sum out of Uncle Bernard’s great fortune. Suppose he offered to send a cheque—suppose he gave us a cheque to send, and all was peace and joy again! He could—he might—oh, surely he will! What is the use of being rich if one can’t help people in trouble?”
But Ruth sighed and shook her head.
“Rich people have not much patience with failures, and the poor old pater has not the gift of success. I am afraid Uncle Bernard will be more inclined to blame than to help.” And as events proved she was right.
Mr Farrell sent word that he would be at liberty at ten o’clock in the sitting-room adjoining his bedroom, and the first few minutes of the interview proved that his attitude towards the family trouble was one of scornful impatience rather than sympathy. He was apparently quite unprepared for the girls, determination, and would not at first believe in its sincerity.
“You are surely joking,” he said scathingly. “If your parents are in such straits as you describe, how do you propose to help them by giving them two more people to keep and feed? It appears to me that your room would be more valuable than your company.”
Ruth flushed painfully.
“We hope to be able to help, not to hinder. When a child like Trix has already found work, we ought not to lag behind. It would be impossible to go on living in the lap of luxury, wearing fine clothes, eating fine meals, being waited upon hand and foot, while our own people are in actual need.”
“Unless—” interrupted Mollie, and then stopped short, while Mr Farrell turned sharply towards her.
“Unless what? Finish your sentence, if you please.”
“Unless you will help them for us!” gasped Mollie, crimson, but daring. “It would be so easy for you to lend the pater what he needs, and he would promise to pay you back—we would all promise! We would work night and day until it was made up.”