Claudia was persistently blind. "What advances?"
"Well, if you will have it, my dear, your father has more than hinted that he desires to marry me. He could not get Sir Hector's money through you, so he is now trying to get it through me."
"Is he? Well, Lady Wyke, with what my father says or does or thinks, I have nothing to do. If he wishes to marry you, and accept him, I have nothing to say. It is none of my business."
"But as your father's daughter----"
"Yes. I know all about that," flashed out the girl quickly, and with flushed cheeks; "but there is no more to be said."
"There is this. That I do not intend to marry your father."
"That is his and your affair. It has nothing to do with me. What have I to do with your intentions, Lady Wyke?"
"You may guess," rejoined the woman, in silky tones, "when I tell you that I wish to marry Mr. Craver."
Claudia flushed still deeper, and looked indignant. Then the humour of this insolence calmed her and made her laugh. And laugh she did, right in the face of Lady Wyke's artificial beauty. "I am not afraid," said Claudia, after looking her rival up and down with all the contempt of youth for age.
The woman clenched her hands, grew a deep red, and quivered from head to foot, as nothing could have been said, calculated to wound her more. However, having an object to gain she kept her temper. "I said before that you are poor, and so is your father. He can't get money by marrying me, as I wish to marry Mr. Craver. But your father can get money, and so can you, if you will stand on one side and refuse to become Mr. Craver's wife."