"She'll be furious," said I. "Freule Menela told me—and probably it's true—that her future mother-in-law had done everything she could to bring about the match."
"Perhaps. But she's tremendously proud of Robert, so the twins say. Once she knows that Menela deliberately threw him over, she'd never want him to have anything to do with the girl again. And Phyllis Rivers isn't penniless, you know. You've paid a generous half of the expenses of this trip, for which, it seems, some money she'd had left to her was to be used. She's kept most of that; and she has about a hundred and fifty pounds sterling a year besides. She'll have enough for pocket-money, when she and Robert are married; and she comes of very good people: her great-great-grandfather was a viscount, or baron, or something. That will appeal to old lady van Buren, when she finds it out."
"And if Nell should happen to marry a rich man, he would be charmed to do something for the sweet little stepsister," I added.
The L.C.P. turned on me shrewdly. "You seem to be very sure of that. I suppose you judge him by yourself. You think Nell's husband may be a rich American?"
"I hope so," said I. "And a generous one. But talking of generosity—I promised to prove to you that I am no less grateful than Tibe, though I may not have as effective ways of showing it. Strange little stage-aunt of mine, I do thank you for saving me. I do realize that, if it weren't for you, Freule van der Windt at all events, would have secured a rich American husband, no matter what Miss Van Buren's luck may be. I do realize that, but for your fibs and fancies, I should have been a lost man, for certainly I should not have been equal to saving myself from that woman. By this one night's work alone, if by nothing else, you've more than earned your aunt-salary and extras. That ring you helped me choose last night——"
"Don't go on," she cut me short. "Didn't I tell you the other day when you were offering me a bribe, that I didn't want anything, and wouldn't have it—not a diamond ring, a pearl ring—nor even a ruby ring. I know you think me a mercenary little wretch, and that you've put up with me all this time only because you couldn't do without me; while as for you, of course you're only an episode in my life. Still, I'd like you to understand that I haven't done this thing for what I could get out of it. I've done it—for you. Please remember that, when you're counting up how much I've cost you on this trip. Count what I've saved you, too."
"By Jove, I'm not likely to forget that!" said I. "If the thing had ended by my being the fiancé—it doesn't bear dwelling on. But I want you to have the ring. I saw, all yesterday afternoon and evening, what you were up to on my behalf, and I bought the ring on purpose to give to you, if you pulled me through, as I half thought you would."
"It was born and bred for an engagement ring," she said. "Give it to—the girl you're going to marry."
"I haven't asked her yet."
"You mean to, I suppose."