Kathleen's face did not look encouraging. She longed to tell her mother of her father's straits, but her lips were sealed.
"Besides," added Mrs. Fabian, with the conscious power of one who plays the last trump, "one reason your father wishes to dispense with Edgar is that he wants to close the house and live at the club."
Kathleen's face fell and her eyes looked away.
"You see he'll come to us all the sooner, dear," said her mother. "Men talk about enjoying living at the club, but when they are happy family men they tire of it very soon."
The girl smiled faintly. "We have been something of a 'happy family' lately," she said; "but if Edgar really turns over a new leaf—"
"Oh, he has!" declared Mrs. Fabian. "I'm glad to remember that the outdoors is large at Brewster's. I suspect he will nearly drive us crazy, but one must exercise some self-sacrifice in this world." She rose. "Take another nap if you can, Kathleen. I'm thankful the island is so near for you. You're completely tired out."
But Kathleen did not take another nap. She dressed very soon, and, pleading a desire for fresh air, left the house. She did not ask for the machine lest her mother should offer to accompany her, but descended in all her dainty whiteness into the subway and started for Wall Street. Arrived at the labyrinth of offices where daily Mr. Fabian struggled and Edgar endured, she dreaded meeting her brother, but she saw nothing of him, and waited in an ante-room, looking about her with a swelling heart. How little part she and her mother had ever had in the heavy responsibilities of her father's life. She doubted if her mother came here twice a year, and when she did it was simply to obtain money.
She had not long to wait, for Mr. Fabian himself opened the door of his private office, and the clerk passing out saw him stoop and kiss the girl in the large hat strewn with lilacs.
"What brings you, my dear?" he asked, his brows knitting anxiously. She smiled and clung to his hand as they moved inside. "You're pale, Kathleen. Off to the island with you, child. Off to the island."
"That's just what I came about," she answered, taking the chair he set for her, and the electric fan whirring above her head carried the scent of orris to her father. "I would so much rather stay with you. I came to urge you to let me."