"Yes; he is an old man and a broken one, now." There was a sob in her voice, or he thought there was. But it was only the great heart of compassion that missed no object of pity.
"True; but the next best thing is to have the young woman who marries into the family bring it back with her, don't you think? Here is a check for what Mr. Farley's stock would have sold for before the troubles began. It's made payable to you because—well, for obvious reasons; as I have said, he lost out."
She turned on him, and the blue eyes read him to his innermost depths.
"You are still the headlong, impulsive boy, aren't you?" she said, not altogether approvingly. "You are paying this out of your own money."
"Well, what if I am?"
"If you are, it is either a just restitution, or it is not. In either case, I can not be your go-between."
"Now look here," he argued; "you've got to be sensible about this. There'll be four of you, and at least two incompetents; and you've got to have money to live on. I made Colonel Duxbury lose it, and—"
She stopped him with the imperious little gesture he knew so well.
"Not another word, if you please. I can't do your errand in this, and I wouldn't if I could."
"You think I ought to be generous and give it to him, anyway, do you?"