But this was an emergency for which Lucy’s straightforward nature was not prepared. She had the power to give she knew; but to lend she did not think she had any power. What was she to do? She had not imagination enough to conceive the possibility that borrowing does not always mean repaying. She hesitated and faltered. “Dear Mrs. Russell, it is there for you--if you would only take, take it altogether!” Lucy said, in supplicating tones.
“No,” said her visitor, firmly, “no, Lucy, do nor ask me. You will only make me go away very miserable--more miserable than I was when I came. If you will _lend_ it to me I shall be very glad. I don’t hesitate to say it will be a great, great service--it will almost be saving our lives. I would offer to pay you interest, but I don’t think you would like that. I told Bertie so, and he said if I were to give you an I-- O--U-- I don’t understand it, Lucy, and you do not understand it, my dear; but he says that is the way.”
“There was nothing about lending, I think, in the will,” said Lucy, very doubtfully; “but,” she added, after a moment, with a sudden gleam of cheerfulness, “I will tell you how we can do it. I am to be quite free to do what I please in seven years--”
“In seven years!” poor Mrs. Russell’s face seemed to draw out and lengthen, as she said these words, until it was almost as long as the period, though it did not seem easy to see by what means the fact could affect her present purpose. Lucy nodded very cheerfully. She had quite regained her courage and satisfaction with her fate.
“I will _give_ it you for seven years,” she said, going back to her seat, “and then you can give it me back again; there will be no need for I-- O--what? or anything of the sort. We will be sure to pay each other, if we remember--”
“I shall be sure to remember, Miss Trevor,” said Mrs. Russell, almost sternly; “a matter of business like this is not a thing not to be forgot.”
“Then that is all settled,” cried Lucy, quite gayly. “Oh, I am so glad! I have been so unhappy since I was at Hampstead. I thought it must be my fault.”
“Not altogether your fault,” said Mrs. Russell. “Oh, you must not blame yourself too much, my dear, there was something on both sides; you were a little brusque, and perhaps thinking too much of your money. I should says that was the weak point in your character; and we were proud--we are too proud--that is our besetting sin,” she said, with an air of satisfaction.