"He says nothing. Jerce is sulky with me, because you----"
"Because I refused to marry him. What a child the man is, in spite of his fame and knighthood. As much a child as you are."
"I am not here to discuss Jerce," said Ferdy, loftily, "but to hear what you have to say to my plan. If you will allow me my income as usual, I won't go on the stage."
"But you'll marry Zara, all the same."
"Yes. She loves me and I love her."
"No, you don't. You love Prudence, and are only dominated by a stronger will in the person of this dancer. I know that Prudence has treated you badly, and so has Mr. Clarke. All the same, if you truly love the lady and not the dancer, you will wait until time brings Mr. Clarke round to accepting you as his son-in-law."
"No," said Ferdy, very decidedly; "and I want your answer, please, so that I can arrange what to do."
"Ah, that means you must decide whether you are to be a doctor or a Chrysalis," said Clarice, quietly and contemptuously. "Give me a few minutes to consider the matter, Ferdy."
Her brother looked at her suddenly, apparently thinking that she was about to give way. However, he was sufficiently wise not to press his advantage for the time being. "I'll play for a time," he said, crossing to the piano, "while you think. Will the music disturb you in any way?"
"No," said Clarice, absently, and Ferdy began to play a soft, murmurous piece of music, which suggested waving green forests and gentle summer winds. He played very well in an amateur sort of way, and played also softly, so Clarice was quite able to follow her own thoughts, as the music echoed through the room.