"Can money be sent to Canada by cable?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Aren"t you quite sure?"
"No, I am not. It can be sent by telegraph in this country, and in America."
"How long will it take you to find out?"
"Only a few moments."
"Very well. Where is Mr. Kenyon now?"
"Kenyon is in Ottawa. I had a cablegram from him yesterday."
"Then, will you write a cablegram that can be sent away at once, asking him to wait at the telegraph-office until he receives a further message from you?"
"Yes, I can do that; but what good will it do?"
"Never mind that; perhaps it will do no good. I am going to try to make it worth doing. Meanwhile remember, if I succeed, John Kenyon must never know the particulars of this transaction."
"He never will--if you say so."
"I say so. Now, there is six hours" difference of time between this country and Canada, is there not?"
"About that, I think."
"Very well; lose no time in getting the cable-message sent to him, and tell him to answer, so that we shall be sure he is at the other end of the wire. Then find out about the cabling of the money. I shall be back here, I think, as soon as you are."
With that she left the office, and, getting into her cab, was driven to her father"s place of business.
"Well, my girl," said the old man, pushing his spectacles up on his brow, and gazing at her, "what is it now--some new extravagance?"
"Yes, father, some new extravagance."
His daughter was evidently excited, and her breath came quickly. She closed the door, and took a chair opposite her father.
"Father," she said, "I have been your business man, as you call me, for a long time."
"Yes, you have. Are you going to strike for an increase of salary?"
"Father," she said earnestly, not heeding the jocularity of his tone, "this is very serious. I want you to give me some money for myself--to speculate with."
"I will do that very gladly. How much do you want?"
The old man turned his chair round and pulled out his cheque-book.
"I want thirty thousand pounds," she answered.
Mr. Longworth wheeled quickly round in his chair and looked at her in astonishment.
"Thirty thousand what?"
"Thirty thousand pounds, father; and I want it now."
"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 acc.u.mulate 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."
"Then, father, you can leave your money to your nephew when you die; I shall never touch a penny of it. I now bid you good-bye. I will go out from this room and earn my own living."
With that the young woman turned to go, but her father, with a sprightliness one would not have expected from his years, sprang to the door and looked at her with alarm.
"Edith, my child, you never talked to me like this before in your life.
What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing, father, except that I want a cheque for thirty thousand pounds, and want it now."
"And do you mean to say that you will leave me if I do not give it to you?"
"Have you ever broken your word, father?"
"Never, my child, that I know of."
"Then remember I am your daughter. I have said, if I do not get that money now, I shall never enter our house again."
"But thirty thousand pounds is a tremendous amount. Remember, I have given _my_ word, too, that I would not give you the money unless you told me what it was for."
"Very well, father, I will tell what it is for when you ask me. I would advise you, though, not to ask me; and I would advise you to give me the money. It will all be returned to you if you want it.