Clarice could not help smiling to herself, in spite of her grief, when she thought of how Ferdy would be disappointed. It then occurred to her that he had some especial desire in wanting the money so badly, and, pending the arrival of the lawyer, she asked questions. "I suppose you want your two thousand a year in order to marry Prudence."
"Perhaps," said Ferdy, cautiously.
"Perhaps," echoed his sister, raising herself angrily. "Why, you have proposed to Prudence."
"I know that, and I love Prudence. All the same, a proposal doesn't invariably mean marriage."
"Oh," said Clarice, in disgust. "Then you still hanker after Zara?"
Ferdy lighted his cigarette calmly. "I don't know what you're talking about," he observed, obstinately.
"Mrs. Rebson says that you are always at the Savoy Hotel."
"She had better mind her own business, the interfering old cat," was Ferdy's retort; "besides, Zara doesn't always live there."
"She lives in town, and so do you, I know, Ferdy; I dare say you see a lot of her there."
"Oh! Has Jerce told you so?"