"Not the whole amount. Lang told me he was five-and-twenty pounds short, so I sent him to town to get the cheque changed, and gave him what he required."
"I must see Lang about this the first thing to-morrow," Rupert remarked. "Dolly, give me your money and let me keep it."
She gathered up the notes and gold and handed them to him. He counted both over. "Why, Dolly," he said, "there is only thirty pounds left."
She laughed, in reply, that frank guileless laugh which never rings out save when a woman has concealed nothing—has nothing she wishes to conceal.
"Oh! I paid off such a number of worries yesterday. Of course, had there been enough to get rid of even one of our distinguished visitors, I should have done so, but as there was not, I killed such a host of gnats. See," and going to her desk she produced a perfect packet of receipts. "I am so thankful those little things are settled," she went on, "if I had kept the money it would only have gone somehow—not this 'how,' I am quite certain."
"Will nothing teach her common sense?" but even as he thought, Dolly's eyes suddenly uplifted surprised his—her brown eyes looking out from a very white face and a confused mass of dark hair.
"What is the matter," she inquired; "of what are you thinking?"
"Of you," he answered; "I wish you were more prudent."
"I wish I were—perhaps I shall be some day," she said humbly.