"He must be worth something," said Clarice, dryly, "or you would not wish to marry him."
"Oh, I explained that," retorted Zara, lightly, and dusting one hand with the other. "I explained, if you remember, when I still took you to be Ferdy himself. I am always frank with the boy, and he knows, as you do now, Miss Baird, that I only wish to marry him for--shall we say professional purposes? I like him--oh, yes. He is handsome and very charming, when he chooses. Also he is sure of a certain income, even though it is a small one, and not available for two years. I can manage Ferdy, and that is necessary when a woman wants her own way on all occasions, as I do. I might do worse than marry your brother, don't you think so?"
"Certainly I do," answered Clarice, now quite composed, and resuming her seat; "only you shall not marry Ferdy, and use him as a cat's-paw for your respectability."
"Be polite, if you please," said the dancer, frowning; "I am polite to you, and desire the return compliment. My respectability is like that of Cæsar's wife--above suspicion. You see," with a gay laugh, "that in spite of my trifling education, I have some classical knowledge. Come, let us talk. You have much to say, and so have I. Will you have a cigarette? No. And in spite of smoking when you came into this room? Oh, I see. There is no need to keep up your manly pose. You look very well. Even handsomer than Ferdy, though I really was taken in, as my mother was. Dear me." Zara lighted a cigarette, and lay back in a deep armchair, puffing smoke, with her hands clasped behind her head. "What will she say when she hears that Miss Clarice Baird has been masquerading here, as her brother."
"She will say nothing," answered Clarice, coolly, "for the very simple reason that she will never know."
"Oh, yes. She will know from me, and all the inhabitants of Crumel will know from her. My mother is an excellent town crier."
"You carry it off very well," said Clarice, dryly; "but I am not quite so weak as Ferdy, remember."
"I grant that. I respect you more than I do him. He would never have ventured upon such a bold step as you have taken. I should like to know exactly why you ventured."
"You explained yourself a few minutes ago. I want to save Ferdy."
"My dear, he isn't worth it--he isn't worth more than that"--and Zara flicked the grey ash off her cigarette. "Will you have some fizz? No! A cigarette, then? No! Really," with a shrug, "you are not much of a man, my dear. I beg pardon for the familiarity; in that dress you look so like Ferdy that I make mistakes."