of leaving it shut up from one year’s end to another.”
Her father looked up: proposals of retrenchment always struck him as business—like when they did not affect his own expenditure. “What do you think of that, eh, Tredegar?”
The eminent lawyer drew in his thin lips. “From the point of view of policy, I think unfavourably of it,” he pronounced.
Bessy’s face clouded, and Mrs. Ansell argued gently: “Really, it’s too late to look so far into the future. Remember, my dear, that we are due at the mills tomorrow at ten.”
The reminder that she must rise early had the effect of hastening Mrs. Westmore’s withdrawal, and the two ladies, after an exchange of goodnights, left the men to their cigars.
Mr. Langhope was the first to speak.
“Bessy’s as hopelessly vague about business as I am, Tredegar. Why the deuce Westmore left her everything outright—but he was only a heedless boy himself.”
“Yes. The way he allowed things to go, it’s a wonder there was anything to leave. This Truscomb must be an able fellow.”
“Devoted to Dick’s interests, I’ve always understood.”
[ 37 ]
