Not too much for an earldom, but--Ah, well, it might be so
much worse."
"The servants--the small debts--this house--is there enough for them?"
asked Stafford, after a pause.
Mr. Chaffinch waved his hand.
"No need to trouble about that, my lord. There will be sufficient at
the bank to pay such small claims. Your lordship will keep the house
on?"
Stafford looked up with a sudden energy. "No," he said; "not a moment
longer than is necessary. I shall return to my old rooms."
"There is no occasion," began Mr. Chaffinch. "I need scarcely say that
the bank will honour your lordship's cheques for any amount."
"Please get rid of this house as soon as possible," said Stafford. He
rose as he spoke. "You will remain to lunch?"
They murmured a negative, and Stafford begging to be excused, left the
room, signing to Howard to follow him. He did not mean it, but his
manner, in the abstraction of his grief was as lordly as if he had
inherited an earldom of five centuries. When they had got back to the
little darkened room in which he had sat since his father's death,
Stafford turned to Howard:
"At what time and place is this meeting to-morrow, Howard?" he asked.
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