Frances hesitated a moment.
“You see,” she began. “I’m afraid that perhaps I made a mistake—advised him wrongly. You see, he was depending entirely on his brother—living with him. He’d never really thought how—that it wasn’t quite—very self-respecting. And I asked him to stop, to try to stand on his own feet. And I’m not sure if he’s able to do that. He has nothing now, except a little more than a hundred pounds a year or so.”
“Except!” said Miss Eppendorfer.
“Oh, of course, it helps. But the trouble is, he’s perfectly inexperienced. He can’t seem to find a job. We’ve—he has answered advertisements and registered at agencies, and nothing’s any good. I’m so afraid of his getting completely discouraged and going back to his brother again. It’s so wretched for him. There’s no chance of our being married for years——”
“Why?”
“We couldn’t both live on a hundred pounds a year—about five hundred dollars!”
“Why should you try? You’re earning something, and under no expense. Why don’t you get married anyway, and go on as you are?”
Frankie was amazed.
“I never thought of such a thing. It ... we couldn’t have any home....”
“Does that matter? You’d have each other. Oh, if I were you, if I were you ...! I shouldn’t think of anything but—just having each other, just your love. I’d never think of a home or money. Only of the man I loved.”