"Her father--whoever he may be--is not in Europe then?" slightingly spoke madam, stooping to root up mercilessly a handful of blue-bells.
"Her father lives over yonder. That's why the young lady has to go out to him."
Madam tossed away the rifled flowers and raised her head to its customary haughty height. The danger had passed. "Over yonder" meant, as she knew, some far-off antipodes. She flung aside the girl and the interlude from her recollections, just as ruthlessly as she had flung the blue-bells.
"I want some money, Mr. North."
Mr. North went into a flutter at once. "I--I have none by me, madam."
"Then give me a cheque."
"Nor cheque either. I don't happen to have a signed cheque in the house, and Richard is gone for the day."
"What have I repeatedly told you--that you must keep money by you; and cheques too," was her stern answer. "Why does Richard always sign the cheques? Why can't you sign them?"
She had asked the same thing fifty times, and he had never been goaded to give the true answer.
"I have not signed a cheque since Thomas Gass died, except on my own private account, madam; no, nor for long before it. My account is overdrawn. I shan't have a stiver in the bank until next quarter-day."