“I think six months—”
“It is to be just as you wish it,” she said, and inserted the time, and slid the note toward David, handing him the pen. He was standing, and he bent over the desk and signed his name. Lucille blotted it briskly, and put the note back in her purse. The money still remained where she had pushed it. She put it into David's hand.
“There!” she exclaimed. “Now, no more worry!”
“I can't tell you how I appreciate this, Mrs. Hardcome,” said David.
“Please!” she begged, raising a hand. She snapped her purse and dropped it into her lap. “Alice told me of her engagement, the dear girl!” she said. “I met the happy man in the hallway just now.”
“Alice told you?” said David, surprised. “Oh! this morning, of course. She said nothing just now? We think it best not to make the engagement public yet; they will not be married for a year, at least—they agree to that—and I thought she might have told you.”
Lucille put out her hand; there was nothing for David to do but take it.
“I'm so glad!” she cried effusively. “Glad the engagement is not to be announced, I mean; glad the wedding is not to be for a year. I wonder if you feel as I do, that so many marriages are too hastily made? Alice is such a dear girl, Mr. Dean; no man could be too good for her.”
The implication was plain; Lanny was not good enough for Alice.
“It isn't as if dear 'Thusia could be up and about,” said Lucille, still holding David's hand. “We know 'Thusia would do all a mother should do, but she is so handicapped. Young girls are so impulsive; they need just a bit of guiding here and a word there. We should let them think they are making a free choice, but should help them in making it. Mr. Dean, frankly, don't you think Alice is making a mistake!”