But it was not successful.
“I don’t, because you’re a girl, and you’d begin to think things were your duty. Girls always kick up a fuss when they think things are their duty,” he said crisply. “But you may tell Dave that he ought to attend to things, and he’ll know what you mean. I haven’t any money. Father keeps me so short. I’m treated as if I were a baby. I’ve money in the bank that was my mother’s, but I can’t touch it until I’m of age.”
“If it’s a question of money, why Dave’s pockets are not overflowing,” I said a little sharply.
He struggled up and stared at me, and the hollows around his eyes seemed to grow deeper.
“I’m afraid that’s the trouble,” he half whispered hoarsely, for the nurse was at the door. “And, Bathsheba, I’m afraid something dreadful will happen. You—you can’t help thinking an awful lot of the first thing you ever owned, especially when it’s a colt——” He stopped short with a sudden sense that he was betraying himself, and sank back upon his pillows drawing his breath in gasps.
“You—go—away!” he cried fiercely. “I don’t want you here, prying and spying! You needn’t think you can find out anything by me, I’m far too sharp for you! And I don’t want your jelly or your pity any more than I do your prying. There’s only one nice thing about any of you girls, and that is that you are Dave’s sisters!
“But I’m—I’m afraid Dave has gone back on me! You tell him, Bathsheba, that he mustn’t.” His anxiety was again overbearing his resentment and prudence.
Poor boy! His nervous system was certainly weakened, I thought, with a thrill of pity. And yet I did not relent in my purpose of discovering the secret that was injuring Dave.
“Tell him that he must—must get the money some way and go and see where it is!” he said imploringly.
I stood beside him and stroked his hair, my heart divided between real pity and my purpose.