But Arthur was heavy at heart in the midst of it. “Do you owe much money, Hamish?” he inquired, after they had left the boys, and were walking soberly along, under the quiet elm-trees.
“More than I can pay, old fellow, just at present,” was the answer.
“But is it much, Hamish?”
“No, it is not much, taking it in the abstract. Quite a trifling sum.”
Arthur caught at the word “trifling;” it seemed to dissipate his fears. Had he been alarming himself for nothing! “Is it ten pounds, Hamish?”
“Ten pounds!” repeated Hamish, in a tone of mockery. “That would be little indeed.”
“Is it fifty?”
“I dare say it may be. A pound here and a pound there, and a few pounds elsewhere—yes, taking it altogether, I expect it would be fifty.”
“And how much more?” thought Arthur to himself. “You said it was a trifling sum, Hamish!”
“Well, fifty pounds is not a large sum. Though, of course, we estimate sums, like other things, by comparison. You can understand now, why I was not sanguine with regard to Constance’s hopeful project of helping my father to get to the German baths. I, the eldest, who ought to be the first to assist in it, am the least likely to do so. I don’t know how I managed to get into debt,” mused Hamish. “It came upon me imperceptibly; it did, indeed. I depended so entirely upon that money falling to us, that I grew careless, and would often order things which I was not in need of. Arthur, since that news came, I have felt overwhelmed with worry and botheration.”