"Pray ma'am," said Fritzing, shrugging his shoulders, "are these women's whims--I never comprehended them rightly and doubt if I ever shall--are they to be allowed to lead us even in dangerous crises? To lead us to certain shipwreck, ma'am? The alternatives in this case are three. Permit me to point them out. Either we return to Kunitz--" "Oh," shivered Priscilla, shrinking as from a blow. "Or, after a brief period of starvation and other violent discomfort, we are cast into gaol for debt--" "Oh?" shivered Priscilla, in tones of terrified inquiry. "Or, I borrow of Augustus." "No," said Priscilla, just as energetically as before. "Augustus is wealthy. Augustus is willing. Ma'am, I would stake my soul that he is willing." "You shall not borrow of him," said Priscilla. "He--he's too ill." "Well then, ma'am," said Fritzing with a gesture of extreme exasperation, "since you cannot be allowed to be cast into gaol there remains but Kunitz. Like the dogs of the Scriptures we will return--" "Why not borrow of the vicar?" interrupted Priscilla. "Surely he would be glad to help any one in difficulties?" "Of the vicar? What, of the father of the young man who insulted your Grand Ducal Highness and whom I propose to kill in duel my first leisure moment? Ma'am, there are depths of infamy to which even a desperate man will not descend." Priscilla dug holes in the tablecloth with the point of the pencil. "I can't conceive," she said, "why you gave Annalise all that money. So _much_." "Why, ma'am, she refused, unless I did, to prepare your Grand Ducal Highness's tea." "Oh Fritzi!" Priscilla looked up at him, shaking her head and smiling through all her troubles. Was ever so much love and so much folly united in one wise old man? Was ever, for that matter, so expensive a tea? "I admit I permitted the immediate, the passing, moment to blot out the future from my clearer vision on that occasion." "On that occasion? Oh Fritzi. What about all the other occasions? When you gave me all I asked for--for the poor people, for my party. You must have suffered tortures of anxiety. And all by yourself. Oh Fritzi. It was dear of you--perfectly, wonderfully, dear. But you ought to have been different with me from the beginning--treated me exactly as you would have treated a real niece--" "Ma'am," cried Fritzing, jumping up, "this is waste of time. Our case is very urgent. Money must be obtained. You must allow me to judge in this matter, however ill I have acquitted myself up to now. I shall start at once for Symford Hall and obtain a loan of Augustus." Priscilla pushed back her chair and got up too. "My dear Fritzi, please leave that unfortunate young man out of the question," she said, flushing. "How can you worry a person who is ill in bed with such things?" "His mother is not ill in bed and will do quite as well. I am certainly going."