“Eighty thousand pounds in four years! Why, Kilcullen, what have you done with it?—where has it gone? You have five thousand a-year, no house to keep up, no property to support, no tenants to satisfy, no rates to pay—five thousand a-year for your own personal expenses—and, in four years, you have got eighty thousand in debt! The property never can stand that, you know. It never can stand at that rate. Why, Kilcullen, what have you done with it?” “Mr Crockford has a portion of it, and John Scott has some of it. A great deal of it is scattered rather widely—so widely that it would be difficult now to trace it. But, my lord, it has gone. I won’t deny that the greater portion of it has been lost at play, or on the turf. I trust I may, in future, be more fortunate and more cautious.” “I trust so. I trust so, indeed. Eighty thousand pounds! And do you think I can raise such a sum as that at a week’s warning?” “Indeed, I have no doubt as to your being able to do so: it may be another question whether you are willing.” “I am not—I am not able,” said the libelled father. “As you know well enough, the incumbrances on the property take more than a quarter of my income.” “There can, nevertheless, be no doubt of your being able to have the money, and that at once, if you chose to go into the market for it. I have no doubt but that Mr Jervis could get it for you at once at five per cent.” “Four thousand a-year gone for ever from the property!—and what security am I to have that the same sacrifice will not be again incurred, after another lapse of four years?” “You can have no security, my lord, against my being in debt. You can, however, have every security that you will not again pay my debts, in your own resolution. I trust, however, that I have some experience to prevent my again falling into so disagreeable a predicament. I think I have heard your Lordship say that you incurred some unnecessary expenses yourself in London, before your marriage!” “I wish, Kilcullen, that you had never exceeded your income more than I did mine. But it is no use talking any further on this subject. I cannot, and I will not—I cannot in justice either to myself or to you, borrow this money for you; nor, if I could, should I think it right to do so.” “Then what the devil’s the use of talking about it so long?” said the dutiful son, hastily jumping up from the chair in which he had again sat down. “Did you bring me down to Grey Abbey merely to tell me that you knew of my difficulties, and that you could do nothing to assist me?”