“Just what father said.”
“Surely you won’t do it, now that I’ve offered you a good income. You can have fifteen thousand—in addition to what you’ve got.”
“And how would I pass the time?”
“Why, as you always have.”
The peculiar, romantic—“crazy,” her father called it—look drifted into the girl’s face, completely transforming it. “Yes,” replied she dreamily, “but that was before I knew Roger.”
“What shall I do!” moaned Mrs. Richmond. She was anything but a keen observer, but she was woman enough to understand that look. “If you married him you’d give this up—wouldn’t you?”
“I hadn’t thought. Yes—I suppose I’d have to. Looking after him would take all my time.”
“Then you must marry him!” cried her mother resolutely. “I shall see your father at once.”
“You’ll simply get yourself into trouble, mother dear.”
“I’m not afraid of him now!” exclaimed Mrs. Richmond with militant eyes and nostrils. “He has made a fool of himself—and he knows it. I’ll not have all I’ve spent my life in building up torn down just because he is such a monstrous snob. Why should he object to a distinguished artist as a son-in-law? Why, Mr. Wade would be an addition to the family, socially.”