"I've come down to look out for some
work--modelling, or anything I can get hold of. I shall begin a round of
the manufacturers this afternoon. We shall stay here till I can find
furnished rooms, or a cheap house. It's all up with sculpture now, you
know."
"Why! I thought you were doing excellently. That medal--"
"Yes. In reputation. But it was just now that I wanted money for a big
job, and--and--well, I couldn't have it. So there you are. Seven years
wasted. But, of course, it was better to cut the loss. I never pretend
that things aren't what they are. Mind you, I'm not blaming you, uncle.
You're no doubt hard up like other people."
"But--but," Samuel began stammering again. "Why didn't you come straight
to me--instead of here?"
George put on a confidential look.
"The fact is," said he, "Mary wouldn't. She's vexed. You know how women
are. They never understand things--especially money."
"Vexed with me?"
"Yes."
"But why?" Again Samuel felt like a culprit.
"I fancy it must be something you said in your letter concerning
champagne."
"It was only what I read about you in a paper."
"I suppose so.
Pages:
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425