“For the present, yes.”
“But you wouldn’t try to stop an engagement, would you?” he asked very earnestly.
“My dearest Michael, if two young people I were fond of fell in love, I should be the last person to try to interfere,” Mrs. Fane promised.
“Well, don’t say anything to Alan about Stella having more money. I think he might be sensitive about it.”
“Darling Stella!” she sighed. “So intoxicated with poverty—the notion of it, I mean.”
“Mother,” said Michael suddenly and nervously, “you know, don’t you, that the day after to-morrow is the House ball—the Christ Church ball?”
“Where your father was?” she said gently, pondering the past.
He nodded.
“I’ll show you his old rooms,” Michael promised.
“Darling boy,” she murmured, putting out her hand. He held it very tightly for a moment.