"He says great fortunes are made, out at Port Natal. I don't know
whether it is so."
"Great fortunes made!" irascibly responded Mr. Galloway. "Pittances,
that folks go out with, are lost, when they are such as he. That's what
it is. Harem-scarem chaps, who won't work, can do no good at Port
Natal. Great fortunes made, indeed! I wonder that you can be led away
by notions so wild and extravagant, Lady Augusta!"
"I am not led away by them," peevishly returned Lady Augusta, a
recollection of her own elation on the point darting unpleasantly to
her mind. "Where would have been the use of my holding out against it,
when he had set his heart upon the thing? He would have gone in spite
of me. Do you _not_ think fortunes are made there, Mr. Galloway?"
"I am sure they are not, by such as Roland," was the reply. "A man who
works one hour in the day, and plays eleven, would do less good at Port
Natal than he would in his own country. A business man, thoroughly
industrious, and possessing some capital, may make something at Port
Natal, as he would at any other port. In the course of years he might
realize a fortune--in the course of _years_, I say, Lady Augusta."
This was not precisely the prospect Roland had pictured to Lady
Augusta, or to which her own imagination had lent its hues, and she
stood in consternation almost equal to Mr. Galloway's. "What on earth
will he do, then, when he gets there?" ejaculated she.
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