“Indeed! You were fortunate.”
“I think so, but you see I earned all the money to pay my tuition.”
“Your tuition?”
“Yes. I took a course at the Boston Conservatory of Music.”
Diamond nearly dropped. For some moments he was dazed and could not say a word. This girl had attended the Boston Conservatory of Music, she was pretty and seemed refined, and she was to be married to a big, bewhiskered, hulking, red-shirted ruffian who proclaimed his ignorance by his general appearance, as well as his talk.
Diamond pitied her, for he had heard enough to know she was being forced into the marriage against her wishes. It was plain she really cared for the respectable-appearing young man named Bill.
When there was another opportunity to talk, the girl said:
“I taught school a long time to earn the money, but I’ve never regretted spending it as I did.”
“That’s nice,” murmured Diamond, stupidly, for he was at a loss for words now.
“Sometimes,” pursued the girl, “I’ve regretted that I came back here, but my father has been very good, and I could not leave him.”