"And you will be happy, too. I hear only nice things of your Kenneth. Everyone says he is so talented, and will be sure to make his mark. I have always said that a good son must make a good husband,—that is one reason I was attracted to Cephas, for he is such a good son,—and not long ago I met some one from Washington who was saying the same of Kenneth. He gave up all share in his father's estate that his mother might have a larger income, as of course you know. She must be a selfish, vain, old thing—don't look so; she's not your mother-in-law yet—for when she married that rich pork-packer she never gave back one penny to Kenneth. She kept him miserable, too, all through his youth by whining and repining, and badgering him. They would have had quite enough to live comfortably if she had been willing to make a home for him, but she wanted new clothes every five minutes, and must live in nothing less than an expensive hotel, so your young man had to scramble around and make his living as best he could. Fortunately his sister, that nice Mrs. Fleming, took his part and did all she could to prevent the mother from insisting upon the dear boy's selling the coat off his back to pay her carriage hire. Of course all this is stale news to you, but I wanted you to know that the world appreciates his goodness and devotion."
"It isn't entirely stale news, although I have never heard a word of it from Kenneth."
"I can well believe that. I hope Mrs. Pork-packer won't be at the wedding."
"She is still in Europe."
"Good! Perhaps your step-father-in-law will die of eating his own pork, and will leave a rich widow who in turn will step out, so Kenneth and his sister will get the cash."
"Oh, Ethel, don't. We shall be perfectly happy and content with what we have."
"I know it, dear Miss Unworldly, for I am aware that you are quite capable of making coats for Kenneth out of discarded canvases, and of clothing yourself in studio properties after you have spent all your year's income on picture-frames."
"You absurd girl! just wait till you see the place we have selected in New York; you will be green with envy."
Ethel laughed. "And about Miss Elliott," she went on, "is it really true that she is going out to China to marry a missionary?"
"It is quite true. They have been lovers ever since Aunt Cam was my age. Now that I am provided for and he needs her, she is going to him. How I shall miss her! though we hope she will persuade him to come back here to end his days. It may be that he will consent."