“Chang?”
“Chang! What does that mean?”
“It’s my pet name for our dear old friend Roger—Roger Wade. He calls me Rix. I call him Chang.”
Mrs. Richmond seemed stupefied for the moment by this cool and candid shamelessness.
“I hate beating round the bush,” pursued Beatrice. “So, I might as well tell you at the outset that I intend to marry him.”
“Beatrice!” exclaimed her mother, electrified into panic.
“You know me, mother. You know I always do what I say I’ll do. Didn’t I cut off my hair close to my head when I was eight because you insisted on those foolish curls? Didn’t I——”
“You have always been obstinate and troublesome,” interrupted her mother. “I’ve warned your father you would make a wreck of your life. But he wouldn’t heed me.”
“Father and I understand each other,” said Beatrice.
“You think he will consent to your marrying that common, poor artist?” demanded her mother excitedly. “Well, for once you are mistaken. In some ways I know your father better than you do. And when it comes to any such insanity as that——”