“David Dean, will you please stop Mrs. Hard-coming me? My name is Lucille quite as much as Mrs. Derling's is Mary, and you are not going to frighten me away by calling me Mrs. Hardcome. Now,” she said, “will you leave Alice to me?”
“I will not!” said David; “I must beg you not to interfere in any way. I understand Alice; 'Thusia understands her. We are not, perhaps,” he said with a smile, “as lacking in worldly wisdom as you imagine.”
Lucille shook her head and laughed. “Incorrigible!” she exclaimed. “You'll never understand how much you need someone like me. A business manager? Shall I call it that? Then it is all settled—I am to see that Alice does not make this mistake.”
“No!” cried David, but she was at the door. “It is all settled!” she triumphed.
“Mrs. Hardcome!”
“All settled!” she laughed, and went out and closed the door.
David put his hand on the knob and hesitated. After all was said, Lucille was right, no doubt. The marriage would be more than annoying; he himself was too prone to consider character as canceling worldly objections. There was one thing about Lucille Hardcome—she usually had her way. She was a “manager.”
Lucille had gone from David to 'Thusia. David waited until she had left the house. He found 'Thusia more complacent than he had expected to find her. Lucille's visits sometimes annoyed her.
“I feel so relieved, David,” she said. “Lucille has been here and spoken about Alice. There was so little I could do, tied down as I am, and Ruth could hardly help, and of course Mary would hesitate, feeling as she does about Alice and Ben. Lucille is just the person we needed.”
“'Thusia! And I thought, of all the women in Riverbank, she was the one we would want to have keep hands off!”