And she had not complained, even when he announced that he was penniless. This did not affect her feeling toward Don himself. It was something of a nuisance, but, after all, a matter of no great consequence. She had no doubt he could make all the money he wanted, just as her father had done.
But of late it had been increasingly difficult to persuade him, on account of business, to fulfill even his evening engagements. He was constantly reminding her of bonds and things that he must study. Well, if it was necessary for him to study bonds and things, he should find some way of doing it that would not interfere with her plans.
The climax came when he asked to be excused from the Moore cotillion because he had three other dances for that week.
“You see,” he explained, “Farnsworth is going to let me go out and sell as soon as I’m fit, and so I’m putting in a lot of extra time.”
“Who is Farnsworth?” she inquired.
“Why, he’s the general manager. I’ve told you about him.”
“I remember now. But, Don dear, you aren’t going to sell things?”
“You bet I am,” he answered enthusiastically. “All I’m waiting for is a chance.”
“But what do you sell?” she inquired.