Clarice reflected for a few minutes. From hints dropped by Prudence, she had a shrewd idea of where the vicar's money went. "How is Frank, Mr. Clarke?" she asked, significantly. "My son. He is still in London, trying to get work. Poor lad, he is very unfortunate. With his education and manners and brains, he ought to be one of the foremost men of the time; but the want of money is a bar to his advancement." "What is Frank doing?" "Nothing. He has tried the army, the medical profession, the legal profession, the lecture hall, and even the stage. But, as yet, he has not hit upon the field in which he can display his undoubted abilities to their utmost." "You support him, I suppose?" "I can't let the boy starve," said Mr. Clarke, defiantly. "Well, then, it seems to me that Frank is more to blame than Prudence for your difficulties. He ought to support himself." "He will some day, when he acquires the position to which his talents will lead him. Then he will bring glory to the Clarkes." "He only brings misfortune and debts just now," said Clarice, dryly. "Who says so?" asked the vicar, furiously. "Prudence tells me that her brother will not do anything, but passes his time in idleness, and constantly comes to you for money. As he is over thirty years of age, he certainly should support himself." "Poor Frank cannot help his misfortunes." "I rather think that a man's misfortunes are, as a rule, of his own making, Mr. Clarke. Your own, for instance. You have three hundred a year and a free house. That ought to keep you out of debt; but if you will give all your money to Frank, what can you expect?" "My dear--my dear," said Mr. Clarke, testily, "a girl like you can't understand these things." "Oh, yes, I can. Since Uncle Henry has been ill all these years, I have had a great deal to do with business." The vicar started. "I thought Mr. Barras was your guardian's lawyer." "So he is. He attends to everything, but Uncle Henry rarely sees Mr. Barras himself, so I have to attend to necessary matters." "Why doesn't Ferdinand--?" "Ferdinand!" Clarice made a gesture of contempt. "He is the same as your son, and spends money rather than earns it." "My dear, you shouldn't say these things, unbecoming in a young girl's mouth. It is not modest in a woman." Clarice stood up, very tall and dignified, and rather irritated. "What is the use of talking like that to me, Mr. Clarke. All that idea of the superiority of man is a thing of the past. I am only a woman, and a girl, as you say, but I have five times the sense of Ferdinand, and Uncle Henry trusts me rather than him. Prudence also is clever and sensible. I don't believe that she is extravagant, Mr. Clarke. Frank is the one who spends your money. If you would allow Frank to earn his own living, and let Prudence arrange your affairs, you would soon be out of difficulties." "Prudence knows nothing of business, Clarice."