"But I don't want it," said Jeffrey. "Whatever trouble it made is over and done with. However this came into Esther's hands—"
"Oh, I know how that was," said Lydia. "She stole it. Madame Beattie says so."
"And whatever she is going to do with it now—that isn't a matter for me to meddle with."
"Don't you care?" said Lydia, in a passionate outcry. "Now you've got it in your hand, don't you care?"
"Why," said Jeff, "what could I do with it?"
"If you know it's Madame Beattie's, you can take it to her and tell her she can go back to Europe and stop hounding you for money."
"How do you know she's hounded me?"
"She says so. She wants you to get into politics and into business and pay her back."
"But that's what you've wanted me to do yourself."
"Oh," said Lydia, in a great breath of despairing love, "I want you to do what you want to. I want you to sit here at this table and write. Because then you look happy. And you don't look so any other time."