When Anthony entered the study next morning, he found his cousin traversing the floor in great agitation.
"Anthony, you are just the person I wanted to see. My father is, I fear, a ruined man."
Anthony recoiled some steps.
"It is but too true. I have been talking to Johnstone, the steward. The account that he gives of our affairs is most discouraging. My father, it seems, has been living beyond his income for some years. The estates have all been heavily mortgaged to supply the wants of the passing hour, while no provision has been made for the future by their improvident possessor. Creditors are clamorous for their money, and there is no money to answer their demands. Mr. Haydin, the principal mortgagee, threatens to foreclose with my father, if the interest, which has been due upon the mortgage for some years, is not instantly forthcoming. In this desperate exigency I can only think of two expedients, both of which depend entirely upon you."
Anthony had never questioned the state of his uncle's affairs. He had deemed him rich, and this distressing intelligence fell upon him with stunning violence. He begged Godfrey to explain in what manner he could render his uncle the least assistance.
"It is not merely of my father I speak; the service is to us both, but it needs some prefacing."
Then stepping up to the astonished Anthony, he said in a quick abrupt manner—
"Do you love Miss Whitmore?"
"You have taken me by surprise, Godfrey. It is a question which, at this moment, I can scarcely answer."
"If your feelings towards her are of such an indefinite character, it will require no great mental effort to resign her. To me she is an object of passionate regard. A marriage with Miss Whitmore would render me the happiest of men, and retrieve the fallen fortunes of my house. Nor do I think, if you were absent, that she would long remain indifferent to my suit. But if you continue to persevere in trying to win her affections you will drive me mad."