"Mercy, no!" cried Martha Galland. "She simply took the name of Gordon—that is, her father did. He was a Russian peasant—a Jew. And he fell in love with a girl who was of noble family—a princess, I think."
"Princess doesn't mean much in Russia," said Jane sourly.
"Anyhow, they ran away to this country. And he worked in the rolling mill here—and they both died—and Selma became a factory girl—and then took to writing for the New Day—that's Victor Dorn's paper, you know."
"How romantic," said Jane sarcastically. "And now Victor Dorn's in love with her?"
"I didn't say that," replied Martha, with a scandal-smile.
Jane Hastings went to the window and gazed out into the garden. Martha resumed her habitual warm day existence—sat rocking gently and fanning herself and looking leisurely about the room. Presently she said:
"Jane, why don't you marry Davy Hull?"
No answer.
"He's got an independent income—so there's no question of his marrying for money. And there isn't any family anywhere that's better than his—mighty few as good. And he's DEAD in love with you, Jen."
With her back still turned Jane snapped, "I'd rather marry Victor Dorn."