“What job?”
Marley looked up suddenly.
“Why, with Carman.”
“How’d you know?”
“Oh, everybody knows about that,” Lawrence replied with a light air that added to Marley’s gloom; “but what of it? I wouldn’t let that cut me up; come out and show yourself a little more! You don’t want to keep Lavinia housed up there, away from all the fun that’s going on, do you? Mayme and I were talking about it the other night; you and Lavinia haven’t been to a thing for months; it isn’t right, I tell you.”
Marley looked sharply at Lawrence for a minute, and Lawrence marking the resentment in his eyes, hastened on:
“Don’t get mad, now; I don’t mean anything. I’m only saying it for your good. I think you need a little shaking up, that’s all.”
“Lavinia can do as she likes,” Marley said with dignity. “I shall not hinder her; I never have.”
“Well, don’t get sore now, old man; I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. The holidays are here and you want to cut into the game; it’s a time to forget your troubles and have a little fun; you’ve only got one life to live; what’s the use of taking it so seriously?”
Marley looked at Lawrence with a genuine envy for an instant, as at a man who never took anything in life very seriously; he looked at the new overcoat Lawrence held over his knee, showing its satin lining; and then, reflecting that Lawrence’s father had left with his estate a block of bank stock which had given Lawrence his position in the bank, Marley’s impatience with him returned and he said: