"What a name! Your valet, I suppose?" asked Tristram.
"And secretary. That is, he answers my duns."
"And so spares you the blues?"
"Punning again, Tristram," said Rosalie. "And you profess not to consider word-plays respectable."
"Right, always right, Rosalie."
The party passed inside, and the Marches were escorted to their rooms, while Harry went in quest of Indigo. When he returned he found his mother alone in the front room. She seemed to be awaiting him.
"The rubies, mother?"
"They were mine. Sit down, Harry. I must speak with you."
Her manner was sad, and Harry thought in the strong light her face looked careworn.
"We are very much pressed for money—temporarily, of course. As soon as your uncle's estate is settled our income will be larger than ever; and even without that, Mr. Hodgkins has hopes——"