“For what, Eustace?”
“There is only one chance. One can’t appeal to her heart, or conscience—or even, it seems, to her ambition; but one might to her greed—offer her some firmer, surer competence. I had thought of it dimly before. I could catch that Dinard train—go with them—find some opportunity for seeing her alone before they reach Dinard—or before they reach the yacht.”
“But, Eustace,” her helpless wonder reproached his baseless optimism, “what could you do? You can’t beard the man; she is of age—goes willingly. What a situation!”
“I could offer her half of my income for life, if she would consent to return with me, and to marry a man who is devoted to her—who, I think, would forgive anything.”
“Eustace, it would leave you almost poor!”
“Not quite, since the half is large enough, I trust, to tempt her! The whole would not be too much to give to save her from this final blow.”
“But can you—this man—will he?”
“He is up-stairs. I will see him, and start at once.”
“And, Eustace—wait; can’t we keep it from her—can’t we think of some good lie?”
He had almost to smile at her intently thoughtful face.