‘Absurd or not, I am going to run the risk,’ answered Beatrix, with a firmness that frightened Mr. Scratchell. In a twelvemonth I shall be of age to do what I like with my money, without consulting anybody. You may just as well make yourself agreeable while I am in your power, and let me have my own way.’ Mr. Scratchell hesitated, sorely perplexed. To make himself disagreeable to Beatrix, even in the endeavour to protect her interests, might be fatal. Women are such self-willed, unreasonable creatures, he argued within himself. If he thwarted her in this ridiculous whim, she might resent his conduct all her life. In a year, as she had reminded him, she would be sole mistress of her fortune. She might dismiss him from his agency, which would be simple and unmitigated ruin. He was as dependent upon the Harefield estate for sustenance as a barnacle on a ship’s bottom. In a word he could not afford to offend her. ‘You have another trustee to consult,’ he suggested. ‘Mr. Dulcimer? Oh, I know he will consent.’ ‘Because he’s a fool.’ ‘No, because he’s a generous-minded man, and would like to see Sir Kenrick’s estate set free.’ ‘Humph!’ muttered the lawyer. ‘It’s a foolish business altogether. And pray where is the money to come from?’ ‘Have I not stocks or shares, or something that can be turned into money immediately?’ ‘Yes, you have a nice little fortune in consols and railway debentures. We might scrape up about thirty thousand that way, perhaps.’ ‘Then you can mortgage the Lincolnshire estate for the other twenty thousand.’ ‘Mortgage one estate--your own--to set free your husband’s! Was there ever anything so preposterous?’ ‘I take a warm interest in one estate, and no interest in the other,’ answered Beatrix. ‘What is the good of property if one cannot do what one likes with it?’ ‘My dear Miss Harefield, that is the spendthrift’s argument.’ ‘I am no spendthrift, but I want to gratify myself in this one matter. Now, dear Mr. Scratchell, pray be agreeable. Go up to London this afternoon--see Sir Kenrick’s bankers--sell out the stocks and shares and things--raise the twenty thousand on the Lincolnshire land--and get everything done by this day week.’ ‘Impossible, my dear young lady.’ ‘Nothing is impossible to a clever family solicitor; you can do the preliminary act by deposit of my deeds. Remember, Mr. Scratchell, if you accomplish this thing for me, I shall always consider myself deeply bound to you. It is a favour I shall never forget.’ ‘I don’t think I shall be serving you well in this business.’ ‘You will be doing what I wish. I’ll run and put on my bonnet, and we’ll go at once to Mr. Dulcimer to get his consent. You must catch the two o’clock train from Great Yafford. My carriage can drive you over.’