“Frances said you wished to talk over something with me,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” answered Don. He did not sit down. He could think better on his feet. “It’s about our marriage.”
Stuyvesant did not answer. He never answered until the other man was through. Then he knew where he stood.
“I don’t know whether or not you know the sort of will father left,” began Don.
Stuyvesant did know, but he gave no indication of the fact. He had been waiting a year for something of this sort.
“Anyhow,” Don went on, “he took a notion to tie up most of the estate. Except for the house––well, he left me pretty nearly strapped. Before that, he’d been letting me draw on him for anything I wanted. When I asked you for Frances I expected things would go on as they were.
“When the change came, I had a talk with Frances, and we agreed that the thing to do was for me to go out and earn about the same sum Dad had been handing to me. Ten thousand a year seemed at the time what we needed. 239 She said that was what her allowance had been.”
Again Don paused, in the hope that Stuyvesant might wish to contribute something to the conversation. But Stuyvesant waited for him to continue.
“So I went out to earn it. Barton found a position for me with Carter, Rand & Seagraves, and I started in. It’s a fact I expected to get that ten thousand inside of a year.”