“I don’t do things by halves,” said Miss Carlaw with a little touch of pride. “I said I would look after the boy, and I’ve done it. But what has all this to do with you—or with what you have to say?”
“Everything, my dear sister, everything. I suppose—forgive the question, but it is necessary—I imagine he has a large personal income?”
“He has,” replied the old woman shortly. “A thousand a year.”
Mr. Robert Carlaw lifted his hands in amazement. “A thousand a year! Incredible! And even that does not satisfy him.”
“Not satisfy him! What do you mean?”
“To put the matter plainly, my dear Charlotte, circumstances which I need not detail took me recently into a certain quarter of the city. I may state—not without a blush, for I’m still a gentleman—that my condition of life is such that I am compelled sometimes to resort to various shifts by which to raise money. You have not had to do that; fortune has been kinder to you than to others. In this case I had gone to visit a money-lender. Do I pain you?”
“Go on,” said Miss Carlaw quietly. She had backed away from him a little and was standing beside the fireplace, with one hand reaching up and resting on the high mantelshelf.
“Imagine my surprise, my distress, when I met in such a place your nephew, Comethup Willis!”
“Comethup at a money-lender’s! Either you’re mad or you think I am, brother Bob. Or have you suddenly gone blind, like your sister?”
“Alas! my dear Charlotte, I was never more wide-awake in my life, and never did I speak in more sober earnestness. I said nothing to the young man at the time, but the money-lender being a friend, I carefully and cautiously questioned him. And then I discovered the whole disgraceful business.” Mr. Robert Carlaw rose to his feet and began to pace excitedly about the room.