“That’s very good of you,” said the other; “—we’ll talk about it later. But meantime, tell me what the apartment costs.”
And then Montague encountered his first full charge of New York dynamite. “Six hundred dollars a week,” said Oliver.
He started as if his brother had struck him. “Six hundred dollars a week!” he gasped.
“Yes,” said the other, quietly.
It was fully a minute before he could find his breath. “Brother,” he exclaimed, “you’re mad!”
“It is a very good bargain,” smiled the other; “I have some influence with them.”
Again there was a pause, while Montague groped for words. “Oliver,” he exclaimed, “I can’t believe you! How could you think that we could pay such a price?”
“I didn’t think it,” said Oliver; “I told you I expected to pay it myself.”
“But how could we let you pay it for us?” cried the other. “Can you fancy that I will ever earn enough to pay such a price?”
“Of course you will,” said Oliver. “Don’t be foolish, Allan—you’ll find it’s easy enough to make money in New York. Leave it to me, and wait awhile.”