“Aunt, dear,” she said hurriedly, “let me give you some more tea.”
“I was not discussing tea, my dear, but your brother’s future; and pray, my dear child,” she continued, turning suddenly upon Madelaine with an irritating smile, “pray do not think I am disparaging your worthy father and his business affairs.”
“Oh, no, Miss Vine.”
“Miss Marguerite Vine, my child, if you will be so good. Oh, by the way, has your father heard any news of his ship?”
“Not yet, Miss Marguerite,” said Madelaine quietly.
“Dear me, I am very sorry. It would be so serious a loss for him, Mr Leslie, if the ship did not come safe to port.”
“Yes, of course,” said Leslie; “but I should suppose, Miss Van Heldre, that your father is well insured.”
“Yes,” said Madelaine quietly.
“There, never mind about Van Heldre’s ship,” said Vine pleasantly. “Don’t croak like a Cassandra, Margaret; and as to Harry, a year or two in a good solid business will not do him any harm, eh, Leslie?”
“I should say it would do him a world of good.”