"But—but how can he stay? Wouldn't you rather have him go?"
Barclay came back to his chair. "No," he said quietly. "I prefer to have him stay."
"But——" She flushed and rose. "But how can he stay and take your money when you feel about him as you do?"
"It's quite all right, my dear. Business is one thing and friendship another."
But she over-rode his words. "Nonsense! You only gave him a job—well, it's a kind of charity now that you're no longer friends."
"Nonsense, Grisel." It was Wick who spoke. "You don't seriously think that Sir John would have given your father the job unless he knew he was going to be useful? Business men don't do that kind of thing. Isn't that right, sir?"
Barclay bowed his head. "Yes. It is your father's knowledge of French that is of value to me. His domestic difficulties have made no change in that."
Grisel had forgotten all about little Jenny, with whom she was not very intimate, and went on rapidly, her pride aflame.
"Is he going to stay on in your—in your employ, then, after his marriage to that disgusting woman?"
"I hope so. You forget," Barclay added in a grave voice, "that if your father were not working he would be unable to continue to support your mother and——" he hesitated a little "you."