CHAPTER XII.
FRIENDS IN NEED.
"Now, papa," said Clara that morning, wrinkling her brows and putting her finger-tips together with the air of an experienced person of business, "I want to have a talk to you about money matters."
"Yes, my dear." He laid down his paper, and looked a question.
"Kindly tell me again, papa, how much money I have in my very own right. You have often told me before, but I always forget figures."
"You have two hundred and fifty pounds a year of your own, under your aunt's will.
"And Ida?"
"Ida has one hundred and fifty."
"Now, I think I can live very well on fifty pounds a year, papa. I am not very extravagant, and I could make my own dresses if I had a sewing- machine."
"Very likely, dear."
"In that case I have two hundred a year which I could do without."
"If it were necessary."
"But it is necessary. Oh, do help me, like a good, dear, kind papa, in this matter, for my whole heart is set upon it. Harold is in sore need of money, and through no fault of his own." With a woman's tact and eloquence, she told the whole story. "Put yourself in my place, papa. What is the money to me? I never think of it from year's end to year's end. But now I know how precious it is. I could not have thought that money could be so valuable. See what I can do with it. It may help to save him. I must have it by to-morrow. Oh, do, do advise me as to what I should do, and how I should get the money."
The Doctor smiled at her eagerness. "You are as anxious to get rid of money as others are to gain it," said he. "In another case I might think it rash, but I believe in your Harold, and I can see that he has had villainous treatment. You will let me deal with the matter."
"You, papa?"
"It can be done best between men. Your capital, Clara, is some five thousand pounds, but it is out on a mortgage, and you could not call it in."
"Oh, dear! oh, dear!"
"But we can still manage. I have as much at my bank. I will advance it to the Denvers as coming from you, and you can repay it to me, or the interest of it, when your money becomes due."
"Oh, that is beautiful! How sweet and kind of you!"
"But there is one obstacle: I do not think that you would ever induce Harold to take this money."
Clara's face fell. "Don't you think so, really?"
"I am sure that he would not."
"Then what are you to do? What horrid things money matters are to arrange!"
"I shall see his father. We can manage it all between us."
"Oh, do, do, papa! And you will do it soon?"
"There is no time like the present. I will go in at once." He scribbled a cheque, put it in an envelope, put on his broad straw hat, and strolled in through the garden to pay his morning call.
It was a singular sight which met his eyes as he entered the sitting- room of the Admiral. A great sea chest stood open in the center, and allround upon the carpet were little piles of jerseys, oil-skins, books, sextant boxes, instruments, and sea-boots. The old seaman sat gravely amidst this lumber, turning it over, and examining it intently; while his wife, with the tears running silently down her ruddy cheeks, sat upon the sofa, her elbows upon her knees and her chin upon her hands, rocking herself slowly backwards and forwards.