ur
heads together now to retrieve our losses, and there are many ways in
which that may be done. I want your clear common sense to help me in
the matter."
"Pity you didn't apply to that before," Ezra said sulkily.
"I have suffered for not doing so," the older man answered meekly.
"In considering how to rally under this grievous affliction which has
come upon us, we must remember that our credit is a great resource, and
one upon which we have never drawn. That gives us a broad margin to
help us while we are carrying out our plans for the future."
"What will our credit be worth when this matter leaks out?"
"But it can't leak out. No one suspects it for a moment. They might
imagine that we are suffering from some temporary depression of trade,
but no one could possibly know the sad truth. For Heaven's sake don't
you let it out!"
His son broke into an impatient oath.
A flush came into Girdlestone's sallow cheeks, and his eyes sparkled
angrily.
"Be careful how you speak, Ezra. There are limits to what I will endure
from you, though I make every allowance for your feelings at this sudden
catastrophe, for which I acknowledge myself responsible."
The young man shrugged his shoulders, and drummed his heel against the
ground impatiently.
"I have more than one plan in my head," the merchant said, "by which our
affairs may be re-established on their old footing. If we can once get
sufficient money to satisfy our present creditors, and so tide over this
run of bad luck, the current will set in the other way, and all will go
well. And, first of all, there is one question, my boy, which I should
like to ask you. What do you think of John Harston's daughter?"
"She's right enough," the young man answered brusquely.
"She's a good girl, Ezra--a thoroughly good girl, and a rich girl too,
though her money is a small thing in my eyes compared to her virtue."
Young Girdlestone sneered. "Of course," he said impatiently. "Well, go
on--what about her?"
"Just this, Ezra, that there is no girl in the world whom I should like
better to receive as my daughter-in-law. Ah, you rogue! you could come
round her; you know you could." The old man poked his long bony finger
In the direction of his son's ribs with grim playfulness.
"Oh, that's the idea, is it?" remarked the junior partner, with a very
unpleasant smile.
"Yes, that is one way out of our difficulties. She has forty thousand
pounds, which would be
|