"It is the kind of personality one isn't likely to forget. Has he any memory of his father or—of his mother?"
"No. His mother died when he was born. His father—he doesn't remember his father at all."
Mrs. Rumsen smiled. "Forgive me, won't you? I suppose you'll think me a meddlesome old busybody. But I'm not, really. I want to be friendly. You're a stranger in New York, and it occurred to me that perhaps you might crave a little mothering once in a while. It is so easy to make mistakes here, and there are so many people who are willing to take advantage of them."
"You're very kind, Mrs. Rumsen. I'm glad you think us worth while."
"I do. So much worth while that I want to lay particular stress upon it. Perhaps I ought to tell you what I mean. Last night my brother dined with us. He was in a very disagreeable mood—and spoke very bitterly of your husband. I suppose he may even go so far as to carry his business antagonism into his social relations with you both."
"How very unfortunate!" in genuine dismay.
"That is his way. He's rather used to lording it over people here. And people stand it just because he's Cornelius Bent. I suppose Mr. Wray knows what he is about. At any rate, I honor him for his independence. I told my brother so—and we're not on speaking terms."
As Camilla protested she laughed. "Oh, don't be alarmed, dear; we have been that way most of our lives. You see we're really very much alike. But I wanted you to understand that my brother's attitude, whatever it is, will make no possible difference to me."
"I shouldn't dare to be a cause of any disagreement——"
"Not a word, child. I'm not going to permit Wall Street to tell me who my friends shall be. There is too much politics in society already. That is why I want you to dine with me before my ball, and receive with me afterward, if you will."