It was just about the time of Ernie's discovery of Ruth that Mrs. Trupp announced firmly to her husband one evening, a propos of nothing in particular,
"I shall tell him where she is now."
"She mustn't be let down again," grunted Mr. Trupp, who was devoted to Ruth.
"Ernie won't let her down," answered Mrs. Trupp with bright confidence. "He's an absolute gentleman. All the Beauregards are."
"Alf, for instance," commented the curmudgeon across the hearth.
"So that's that," continued the lady with the emphasis of one who scents opposition. "She wants help; and he wants her. And he's been true to her for a year and a half now. That's a long time in that class," she went on with fine inconsistency. "So that's settled."
"Pity," grumbled the recalcitrant. "He's doing nicely now, Pigott tells me—and will so long as he doesn't get what he wants. If she marries him she'll make him happy and comfortable. She's just the sort of woman who would. And he'll go to pieces at once. There's nothing to muck a man's career like a happy marriage."
Mrs. Trupp looked severely at the wicked man over her spectacles.
"It's lucky your marriage has proved such a failure, William Trupp," she said.
The other drank his coffee and licked his lips.