'
'My dear girl,' he expostulated, 'have you any idea how much thirty
thousand pounds is? Do you know that thirty thousand pounds is a
fortune?'
'Yes, I know that.'
'Do you know that there is not one in twenty of the richest merchants in
London who could at a moment's notice produce thirty thousand pounds in
ready money?'
'Yes, I suppose that is true. Have you not the ready money?'
'Yes, I have the money. I can draw a cheque for that amount, and it will
be honoured at once; but I cannot give you so much money without knowing
what you are going to do with it.'
'And suppose, father, you do not approve of what I am going to do with
it?'
'All the more reason, my dear, that I should know.'
'Then, father, I suppose you mean that whatever services I have rendered
you, whatever comfort I have given you, what I have been to you all my
life, is not worth thirty thousand pounds?'
'You shouldn't talk like that, my daughter. Everything I have is
yours, or will be, when I die. It is for you I work; it is for you I
accumulate money. You will have everything I own the moment I have to
lay down my work.'
'Father!' cried the girl, standing up before him, 'I do not want your
money when you die. I do not want you to die, as you know; but I do want
thirty thousand pounds to-day, and now. I want it more than I ever
wanted anything else before in my life, or ever shall again. Will you
give it to me?'
'No, I will not, unless you tell me what you are going to do with it.
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