"No, dear," he returned, gently, "I have not spent it all. I am keeping twelve hundred pounds for a rainy day. I thought that would be only right. But, Joa, there are only two bills left, and most of the things owing were for Tristram."
"Tristram!" in a startled voice. "Are you sure of that?"
"Yes—things that he wanted at Oxford and that father ordered; but three or four hundred will clear off the whole account."
"Thorold," returned his sister, plaintively—and now she was actually crying—"you do not expect me to help with my money?"
"No, of course not. What an idea!" he replied, hastily; but all the same he felt vaguely surprised. All these years Joanna had stinted herself of comforts, had scraped and saved and pared down every unnecessary expense with ungrudging cheerfulness, and with all her grumblings and worries she had never said one word of blame on this score. And now she was hugging her small fortune almost jealously.
"I am very sorry, dear, but I cannot give you my money," she went on quickly. "It is my own money, you know. Dear Cousin Rupert left it to me. I have helped you as well as I could all these years, but I must keep this for my very own."
"Of course you shall keep it," returned her brother; for Joanna was growing quite excited. "I suppose you will put it into the London & County Bank."
"Yes, that will be best; and then I can get it out easily."
"The consols would be better, perhaps," he continued, musingly; "and you would get more interest. Or you might buy some of those shares that Doreen was mentioning."
"No, no. I prefer the London & County," returned Joanna, obstinately. "Let me do what I like with my own money."