"Not now, sir. I have said enough. I have given you the sign of hope. It remains with you to make the most of it."
"But you—you don't know anything about me. I may be the veriest adventurer, the most unworthy of all—"
"I think, Mr. Schmidt, that I know you pretty well. I do not require the aid of Diogenes' lantern to see an honest man. I am responsible for her welfare. She has been placed under my protection. For twenty years I have adored her. I am not likely to encourage an adventurer."
"I must be honest with you, Mrs. Gaston," he said suddenly. "I am not—"
She held up her hand. "Mr. Totten has informed me that you are a life-long friend of Mrs. Truxton King. I cabled to her from Paris. There is no more to be said."
His face fell. "Did she tell you—everything?"
"She said no more than that R. Schmidt is the finest boy in all the world." Suddenly her face paled. "You are never—never to breathe a word of this to—to Bedelia," she whispered.
"But her father? What will he say to—"
"Her father has said all that can be said," she broke in quietly. "He cannot force her to marry the man he has selected. She will marry the man she loves. Come now! Let us go. I am tired of the music."
"Thank you, thank you, Mrs. Gaston," he cried, with shining eyes. "God bless you!"