He began resolutely.
“Miss Defoe, I don’t think you quite understand the——”
“Oh, I do!” she assured him, earnestly. “Indeed I do! I’ve thought of nothing else since I heard of it. Mr. Naylor, I want to help you and Frankie. I want you both to be happy. But I don’t—I can’t think it wise for you to marry just now. I don’t in the least want to separate you entirely. That would be cruel. I only want Frankie to wait until you are—more—better....”
“I understand.”
“I wish very much you’d let me lend you enough to go out and see her——”
“Miss Defoe!” he said sternly, “I said before I can’t listen to that.”
She laid her hand on his arm and looked up into his face with a troubled frown.
“Mr. Naylor! It’s just as Frankie’s sister I’m speaking.... It’s only because I want to understand. I’m practical, much more so than Frankie. Won’t you please tell me just how—just what your income is—what your prospects are?”
She watched his face.
“Please don’t resent it,” she said. “It’s not curiosity!”