"Nothing of the kind, dear mamma," said Mrs. Arnold, placing her hand caressingly upon her mother's shoulder "it is thus that I have proved the true worth of Mr. Tracy's character—he not only spoke of the matter but intimated in a delicate manner that now he could sue more boldly for Madge's hand—be in a position to place dear papa on a surer footing than, he ever was."
"It is indeed a great blessing to know that we have such true friends," said Mrs. Verne in a tone that showed her heart was not with the subject.
Poor Mrs. Verne!
She had, since her arrival in England, changed her views as regards a son-in-law.
Her heart was set on the baronet and she wished that the merciless Evelyn would have expatiated on his riches instead of those of former friends.
"I can never have what I want," sighed the anxious mother as she sought her boudoir to write a letter in answer to the one which lay upon the Indian cabinet opposite.
"What on earth brings about these insolvencies is more than I can account for. One thing certain I can wash my hands of it. It is not our extravagance that will cause it."
Mrs. Verne glanced at the surroundings hoping to see much simplicity, but the elegance of the magnificent suite of apartments were sadly at variance with her speech.
"And to think of Evelyn's opposition. She is settled and should mind her own affairs, and judging from what I can see, she will have enough to do to keep her head up. Montague Arnold is no better than he ought to be. Well, well! I suppose his money will hold out and that is all that is required—oh dear, if Sir Arthur had Hubert Tracy's money."
The letter being finished a servant was despatched with the budget of mail, and Mrs. Verne took up a pretty design, of Kensington work that she was fashioning for a table scarf.