“But I am his grandmother’s guest,” persisted Gloria.
“No, my child, no; the house is his, not his grandmother’s. The position is unfit, improper, indelicate. I wonder you do not see that it is so!”
“No, I do not see it. But if any one sees it, that is enough. I cannot stay, of course. I will go home with you, uncle.”
“That is right, Gloria. That is right, my dearest girl. I thank you, love, for your ready acquiescence in my views and compliance with my wishes. As for this young Lindsay, who is such a favorite protégé of yours—and deservedly so, I must admit—he shall be well paid for the service he has rendered you. I will send him a check for a thousand dollars to-morrow.”
“Marcel!” exclaimed Gloria, lifting herself up and looking him straight in the face, “if you do such a thing as that I will never forgive you as long as I live in this world!”
“Gloria, what on earth do you mean? Have you gone crazy, child?”
“No, but I think you have!”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean just what I say, Colonel de Crespigney! If you were to offer David Lindsay money for saving my life, I would never speak to you again as long as I should live on this earth!”
“But, my dear, unreasonable child, why should I not do so?”