"If you have any demand to make, I beg that you will send in your account for work done to Mr. Musselboro. He is my man of business. Clara, are you ready to come home? The cab is waiting at the door,—at sixpence the quarter of an hour, if you will be pleased to remember."
"Mrs. Broughton," said Clara, thoughtful of her raiment, and remembering that it might not be well that she should return home, even in a cab, dressed as Jael; "if you will allow me, I will go into your room for a minute or two."
"Certainly, Clara," said Mrs. Broughton, preparing to accompany her.
"But before you go, Mrs. Broughton," said Mrs. Van Siever, "it may be as well that I should tell you that my daughter is going to become the wife of Mr. Musselboro. It may simplify matters that you should know this." And Mrs. Van Siever, as she spoke, looked hard at Conway Dalrymple.
"Mamma!" exclaimed Clara.
"My dear," said Mrs. Van Siever, "you had better change your dress and come away with me."
"Not till I have protested against what you have said, mamma."
"You had better leave your protesting alone, I can tell you."
"Mrs. Broughton," continued Clara, "I must beg you to understand that mamma has not the slightest right in the world to tell you what she just now said about me. Nothing on earth would induce me to become the wife of Mr. Broughton's partner."
There was something which made Clara unwilling even to name the man whom her mother had publicly proposed as her future husband.