"Wasn't your week-end party a success?" she asked.
"Not altogether," he confessed; "but don't let's talk about it. Tell me what is depressing you."
"About myself, or things generally?"
"Yourself, first."
"Well, the most respectable young man you ever knew in your life, who lives in Bath, wants me to marry him. I don't think I could. I don't think I could live in Bath, and I don't think I could marry any one. And I've just thirteen shillings and fourpence left, I haven't paid my rent, and my dressmaker is calling for something on account on Monday morning."
"There's only one answer to that," John insisted cheerfully. "I am going to lend you fifty pounds while you make your mind up about the young man."
She made a face at him.
"I couldn't borrow money from a strange gentleman," she protested.
"Rubbish!" he exclaimed. "If you begin calling me a stranger—but there, never mind! We'll see about that after dinner. Now what is the other cause for depression?"
"I am not very happy about you and Louise," she observed.