“But you will earn money?”

“I shall have my pay — I have my pay now.

I've got my commission. That is another hundred and fifty.”

“You will have more, though?”

“I shan't have more than 200 pounds a year for ten years to come. I shall always be poor, if I have to live on my pay.”

“Do you mind it?”

“Being poor? Not now — not very much. I may later. People — the officers, are good to me. Colonel Hepburn has a sort of fancy for me — he is a rich man, I suppose.”

A chill went over Ursula. Was he going to sell himself in some way?