“When is the wedding to be?” said I.
There was a brief, surcharged silence—no more than a pause. Then Edna said indifferently, “As soon as the settlements are arranged.”
“Oh—is he settling something on her?” said I, with pretended innocence. “I’m glad of that. There’s been too much of the other sort of thing.”
Margot came to the rescue with a charming laugh. “Poor Hugh!” she said. “He hasn’t anything but mortgages.”
“Um—I see,” said I glumly—and I observed intense anxiety behind the smiles in those two pairs of beautiful eyes. “How much have we got to pay for him?”
Edna looked reproachfully at me. “Margot,” said she, “you’d better go tell them to serve lunch in fifteen minutes.”
“Nonsense,” said I cheerfully. “Let her stay. What’s the use of this hypocrisy? She knows he cares no more about her than she cares about him—that it’s simply a matter of buying and selling. If she doesn’t know it, if she’s letting her vanity bamboozle her——”
“Godfrey—please!” implored Edna. “Don’t smirch the child’s romance. She and Hugh love each other. If she were poor, he’d marry her just the same.”
“Has he offered to go ahead, regardless of settlements?” I asked.
“Of course not, papa,” flashed Margot. “Things aren’t done that way over here.”