"A moment's reflection might convince you, Mrs. Dare, that to pay this money would be fruitless waste. The instant this procedure gets wind—and in all probability it has already done so—other claims, as pressing, will be enforced."
"Tradespeople must wait," she answered, with irritation.
"Wait for what?" asked Mr. Ashley. "Do you expect to drop into a fortune?"
Wait for what, indeed? For complete ruin? There was nothing else to wait for. Mrs. Dare sat beating her foot against the carpet.
"Mr. Dare has grown useless," she said. "What he says one minute, he forgets the next; he is almost in a state of imbecility. I have no one to consult with, and therefore I come to you. Indeed, you must help me."
"But I do not see what I can do for you," rejoined Mr. Ashley. "As to paying your debts, it is—it is—in fact, it is not to be thought of. I have my own payments to make, my expenses to keep up. I could not do it, Mrs. Dare."
She paused again, playing nervously with her bonnet strings. "Will you go back with me, and see what you can make of Mr. Dare? Perhaps between you something may be arranged. I don't understand things."
"I cannot go back with you," replied Mr. Ashley. "I must attend the meeting which takes place this morning at the Guildhall."
"In your official capacity," remarked Mrs. Dare in not at all a pleasant tone of voice. "I forgot that you preside at it. How very grand you have become!"
"Very grand indeed, I think, considering the lowly estimation in which you held the glove manufacturer, Thomas Ashley," he answered, with a good-humoured laugh. "I will call upon your husband in the course of the day, Mrs. Dare."