“Oh, there can be little doubt about that—for women, at least. I am not in the least sorry for the butchers and bakers—they have their trade—or for our house-maids, which is the same thing; but you and I, Lucy. If anything were to happen, if we were to lose all our money, what should we do?”
“I should not be afraid,” said Lucy, quietly, “for you know I was born poor, but to have a great deal of money, and not know how to employ it—that was always what papa said. He gave me a great many directions; but I don’t know if I understood them, and sometimes I do not feel sure whether he understood. Life is different here and at the Terrace, Lady Randolph.”
“Very different, my dear; but you need not bewilder your poor little head just yet. You will be older, you will have more experience before you have any occasion to trouble yourself about the employment of your money. I have no doubt all the investments are excellent—your father had a good business head.”
“It was not about investments I was thinking,” Lucy said. “I have no power over them.”
“Nor over anything else, fortunately, at your present age,” Lady Randolph said, with a smile. “We may all be very thankful for that; for I fear, unless you are very unlike other girls, that you would throw a good deal of it away.” Lucy did not smile, or take any notice of this pleasantry. Her next remark was very serious. “Don’t you think,” she said, “that it is very wrong for me to be so rich, when others are so poor?”
“A little Radical,” cried Lady Randolph, with a laugh. “Why, Lucy, I never thought a proper little woman like you would entertain such revolutionary sentiments.”
“You see,” said Lucy, very gravely, “it is upon me the burden falls; every one feels most what is most hard upon themselves.”
Lady Randolph laughed again, but this time with a puzzled air.
“Hard upon you!” she said. “My dear, half the girls in England—and the men, too—would give their heads to have half so much reason to complain.”
“Men, perhaps, might understand better, Lady Randolph; but it is altogether very strange. Papa must have known a great deal better; but he did nothing himself. All that he wanted, so far as I can make out, was to make more and more money; and then left the use of it—the spending of it—to a girl that knows nothing. I never took much thought of this while he was living, but I feel very bewildered now.”