"Fannie"—still looking down into the gliding water—"how does your father think Mr. March is going to lose so much; is he afraid he'll be swindled?"
"I believe he is, Barb."
"And do you think"—the words came very softly and significantly—"that that makes it any special matter of mine that he should be warned?"
"Yes, sweetheart, I do."
"Then"—the speaker looked up with distressed resolve—"I must do what I can. Will you help me, or let me help you, rather?"
"Yes, either way, as far as I can." They moved on for a moment. Then Barbara stopped abruptly, looking much amused. "There's one risk you didn't count!"
"What's that?"
"Why, if he should mistake my motive, and——"
"What? suspect you of being——"
"A girl of the true stuff!"