“God forbid!” he said, hardly able, on finding her so close to him, to control his voice. “But we may be, Betty.” “And what then?” She clasped him more closely to her. “Might not worse things happen to us? Might you not die and I be left alone? Or might I not die, and you lose me? Or Clement? You are pleased with Clement, father, aren’t you? He may not be as clever as—as some people. But you know he’s there when you want him. Suppose you lost us?” “True, child. But you don’t know what poverty is—after wealth, Betty—how narrowing, how irksome, how it galls at every point! You don’t know what it is to live on two or three pounds a week, in two or three rooms!” “They will bring us the closer together,” said Betty. “And to be looked down upon by those who have been your equals, and shunned by those who have been your friends!” “Nice friends! We shall do better without them!” “And things will be said of me, things it will be hard to listen to!” “They won’t say them to me,” said Betty. “Or look out for my nails, ma’am! Besides, they won’t be true, and who cares, father! Lizzie Clough said yesterday I’d a cast in one eye, but does it worry me? Not a scrap. And we’ll shut the door on our two or three rooms and let them—go hang! As long as we are together we can face anything, father—we can live on two pounds or two shillings or two pence. And consider! You might never have known what Clement was, how lively, how brave, how”—with a funny little laugh—“like me,” hugging him to her, “if this had not happened—that’s not going to happen after all.” He sighed. He dealt with figures, she with fancy. “I hope not,” he said. “At any rate I’ve two good children, and if it does come to the worst——” “We’ll lock ourselves in and our false friends out!” she said; and for a moment after that she was silent. Then, “Tell me, father, why did Mr. Rodd take that money—when you need all that you can get together, and he knows it? For he’s taking the plate to Birmingham to pledge, isn’t he? So he must know it.” “He is, if——” “If it comes to the worst? I know. Then why did he take his money, when he knew how things stood?” “Why did he take his own when we offered it?” the banker replied. “Why shouldn’t he, child? It was his own, and business is business. He would have been very foolish if he had not taken it. He’s not a man who can afford to lose it.” “Oh!” said Betty. And for some minutes she said no more. Then she roused herself, poked the fire, and rang for the lamp. CHAPTER XXVII