"She is an idiot," said Mrs. Van Siever.
"She has had a terrible misfortune!"
"That is no reason why she should be an idiot; and she is heartless too. She never cared a bit for him;—not a bit."
"He was a man whom it was impossible to care for much. I will go to her now, mamma."
"Where is Musselboro?"
"He is upstairs."
"Well?"
"Mamma, that is quite out of the question. Quite. I would not marry him to save myself from starving."
"You do not know what starving is yet, my dear. Tell me the truth at once. Are you engaged to that painter?" Clara paused a moment before she answered, not hesitating as to the expediency of telling her mother any truth on the matter in question, but doubting what the truth might really be. Could she say that she was engaged to Mr. Dalrymple, or could she say that she was not? "If you tell me a lie, miss, I'll have you put out of the house."