Of course the announcement that it concerned himself alone, only made my lady the more inquisitive to hear it. She peremptorily ordered Roland to disclose it to her.
But Roland could be as peremptory as she, and he declined, in positive terms, to explain further.
“It would not afford you any pleasure, mother,” he said, “and I should not have mentioned it but as an additional reason why I must be off.”
“You unhappy boy! You have been doing something dreadful!”
“It’s not over-good,” acknowledged Roland. “Perhaps I’ll write you word all about it from London. I’ve not smothered William Yorke, or set old Galloway’s office on fire, and those respected gentlemen are my two bêtes noires. So don’t look so scared, mother.”
“Roland!” uttered Lady Augusta, as the fact struck her, “if you go off in this manner, all the money that was paid with you to Mr. Galloway will be lost! I might as well have sent it down the gutter.”
“So I said at the time,” answered cool Roland. “Never mind that, mother. What’s that paltry hundred or two, compared with the millions I shall make? And as to these folks that I owe money to—”
“They’ll be coming upon me,” interposed Lady Augusta. “Heaven knows, I have enough to pay.”
“They will do nothing of the sort,” said Roland. “You have no legal right to pay my debts. Not one of them but has been contracted since I was of age. If they come to you, tell them so.”
“Roland, Lord Carrick gave you money once or twice when he was here,” resumed Lady Augusta, “I know he did. What have you done with it all?”