The Hermit's Daughter Read Free

mean we have been dipping into that!”
    “How else should we live? Of course we are. I am not a magician.”
    Sally sat dazed, unable to assimilate the situation. “What of the property Papa had in Devon?”
    “It brought three thousand, and that was all spent up immediately after his death, when it was sold. The funeral, you recall, and all the crape we had to buy, and the remove to Brighton ...”
    “Were there not other landed assets? No stocks or bonds, nothing?”
    “We have our bits of jewelry.”
    Sally’s ivory complexion faded to white. “We are paupers, and here we have been living like kings! How did you come to do such a shatter-brained thing? We should have been living in a rented apartment and saving every penny we could.”
    Mrs. Hermitage looked and saw the reincarnation of her husband staring at her from those wrathful green eyes. She answered cajolingly. “But my dear, had we done that, Mellie would never have been presented to Derwent. Depend upon it. It is of the utmost importance to keep up a good front when you are in the suds.”
    “Oh, Mama, that is nonsense and you know it! We could have gone to live with any of our relatives. Uncle Calvin asked us, and Aunt Stepney.”
    Mrs. Hermitage shivered gently in revulsion. “Uncle Calvin lives in Wales, Sal. One does not live in Wales. And Aunt Stepney is a nip-cheese. You would have met no one, and we would have been underfoot, poor relations.”
    “Richer relations than we are now.”
    “Yes, love, but not nearly so well off—in other ways than money, I mean.”
    Sally sat silent, reeling from the shock of these revelations. She alone of the family had some of the Hermit’s sagacity and quick-wittedness and was soon worrying about the real problem. Not Melanie’s dowry and not Lord Derwent, but how they should proceed on seven hundred and fifty pounds per annum.
    “We must move to smaller quarters and be rid of  some of these servants and carriages. Fortunately we have enough clothing to last years.”
    “I knew you would say that. That is exactly why I didn’t like to tell you.”
    “Yes, because you knew you were wrong to squander our life savings, Mama.”
    “We shall retrench after we get Melanie bounced off. You and I might be comfortable in smaller quarters, for no one of any importance will bother with you—us! But with Lord Monstuart coming, we must keep up a good appearance.”
    “He is not coming to inspect our home, Mama, but to see how heavily you are willing to come down to nab Derwent for Mellie. I think we might as well consider Derwent lost and—”
    “Oh, Sal! How unfeeling—you know Mellie’s dear heart is set on him.”
    “Yes, and his on her, for the next day or two. But when Monstuart arrives, he will scotch the plan.”
    “He shan’t!”Mrs. Hermitage said with unusual vehemence. “If necessary we can do as Derwent says and live on our capital till he comes into his own.”
    “He had no notion how poor we are when he said that. He wouldn’t take our life savings, yours and mine as well as Mellie’s. I would have a very poor notion of him if he did.”
    “He would repay every sou; he said so.”
    “Yes, repay it to his wife-—to himself, in other words. He was speaking of Melanie’s dowry. He didn’t know the true situation. When he learns it, he’ll renege.”
    Mrs. Hermitage heaved a sigh of vexation but refused to be utterly despondent. “We have not met Monstuart yet. Let us wait and see what sort of gentleman he is. He might be very biddable. There is no saying.”
    “He is as cunning as may be. He cannot be a sentimental man or he would have come at once when he received Derwent’s message. I even wonder about his morals. This Lady Dennison is obviously someone’s wife.”
    “She might be a widow—or his fiancée.”
    “Yes, if her husband left her well to grass. I wonder he doesn’t angle for Lady Mary himself.”
    “Why, he would be too old for her. Derwent is twenty-three, and