"What on earth brings about these insolvencies is more than I can
account for. One thing certain I can wash _my_ hands of it. It
is not _our_ extravagance that will cause it."
Mrs. Verne glanced at the surroundings hoping to see much
simplicity, but the elegance of the magnificent suite of apartments
were sadly at variance with her speech.
"And to think of Evelyn's opposition. She is settled and should mind
her own affairs, and judging from what I can see, she will have
enough to do to keep her head up. Montague Arnold is no better than
he ought to be. Well, well! I suppose his money will hold out and
that is all that is required--oh dear, if Sir Arthur had Hubert
Tracy's money."
The letter being finished a servant was despatched with the budget
of mail, and Mrs. Verne took up a pretty design, of Kensington work
that she was fashioning for a table scarf.
"I don't feel like anything to-day," murmured the woman, throwing
the work aside and yawning several times.
"Madge, I'm glad you have come. Where is that novel I saw you
reading yesterday?"
"Rossmoyne, do you mean, mamma?"
"Yes, I glanced over it and think it is fascinating, and I stand
sorely in need of just such a work to-day.
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