They discussed the matter of her living in every aspect.
"You mean you haven't got a red cent to your name, Miss Darcy? Gee!" muttered Archie. "What was the old chap thinking of? Oil stocks! Might as well have put the money on the races." Even in his loyal mind the Major had undergone something of an eclipse.
"Better, because then we could have seen it run," sighed Joan. "However, it's gone, and now I've got to get busy!" (Archibald's language was rather contagious.)
She told him of her two alternatives. The stage he absolutely vetoed.
"It's no place for a lady," he said stubbornly, and would listen to no argument. Joan suddenly remembered that his mother had been an actress. She did not pursue the question.
"Newspaper work might do," he admitted. "A society reporter with the pull you've got ought to be worth some money."
"A society reporter!—You mean I'd have to go to my friends' houses and publish what happens there? Oh, Archie, I'm afraid I couldn't do that."
"Why not?" he said innocently. "They like it."
But Joan persisted. "I'm willing to report anything except society."
"Murders? Police courts?" he suggested grimly.