"True, but every one knows I was banished from court, and nothing will satisfy them that I am in favor again but to see my name in the _Court News’_ account of the queen’s levee. I can not get there without money, and for that I look to you, who have stood my friend before. Now listen," she went on quickly, laying her little dimpled hand on his arm, in her eagerness to interrupt the impending expostulation. "I am going to be married—oh, yes, I know what you would say—’tis not the first time by several, and I am still the Widow Brooke! This time, however, you may consider it final; within a month, I wed Sir Geoffrey Beaudesert." The money-lender started. "Sir Geoffrey Beaudesert!" he exclaimed. "Your creditors, my lady Viscountess, will scarce be pleased at this hearing, and may find cause to remind you that there are lodgings for ladies in the Fleet and Queen’s Bench. Sir Geoffrey is a member of Parliament, and can not be arrested for his own debts, let alone his wife’s." "Arrested! Do you mean to suggest that Sir Geoffrey can not, or will not, pay my debts?" she cried angrily. "He may be willing; indeed, who could doubt that any man would esteem it an honor to pay the debts of Lady Prudence Brooke? But that he is able, is quite another matter, and you may take my word for it, that Sir Geoffrey Beaudesert couldn’t pay his own debts, if every acre he owned was free, instead of mortgaged, lock, stock and barrel." "You are maligning a gentleman, sir!" she exclaimed, losing all control of her temper. "I will tell him how you have lied to me, and he will have his servants beat you within an inch of your life! Sir Geoffrey a bankrupt!—his estates mortgaged!—was ever such a slander? He is a man of substance, I tell you. I have visited him in his ancestral domain, where he entertained me royally. He is lord of the manor, and has the retinue of a duke—no man in Yorkshire is more highly respected—he is M.F.H. and might be Sheriff of his Riding an’ he chose!" She began to subside a little, though still angry, and looking, it must be owned, transcendently lovely in her excitement, with cheeks like damask roses, and flashing sapphire eyes. "Good Mr. Aarons, why did you give me such a scare?" she went on, with a ring of almost entreaty in her tone. "Tell me you were joking. What can you know about Sir Geoffrey’s estate? He hath borrowed of you, mayhap; who has not? But since he has come into his patrimony—" "His patrimony, Lady Prudence? His father was one of King James’ most devoted followers, and one of the most lavish while a guinea could be raised to prove his loyalty. Sir Geoffrey can not cut a tree in his ’ancestral domain,’ and you may be sure there was a bailiff or two wearing his livery among the ducal retinue that dazzled your ladyship."