'I am going home.'
'Home! what do you mean by home?'
'I mean whatever you associate with rest and fragrance and holiness, with love and innocence and happiness. Some find this ideal in a family. I have never had any experience of home in this sense; the only family I have been with was that of the Trampleasures, and that in no way comes up to my ideal. I will not say more about that. No! what I mean by home is that which I know—the convent of the Sacré Coeur.'
Trecarrel rubbed his chin musingly, and then pulled his moustache. 'If you become a nun, what is to become of Welltown? You are, I presume, well off. Herring had no brothers and sisters, and that falls to you I suppose. Are you thinking of selling John Herring's property, of calling in all your available funds, and bestowing everything on the convent and the bears of Paris?'
'I have not this thought. Orange and her mother will reside at Welltown and manage the estate, and let me have the money I need.'
'And who will check their accounts—who look after your interests?'
'Orange will send me what I want. I do not require much.'
'What did my poor friend John Herring die worth? That is—how much has come to you, Mirelle?'
'I do not know the value of the Welltown estate.'
'But I do,' said Trecarrel, sharply. 'Six hundred nett, on the outside. Is that all?'