“What was she doing here?”
“I sent for her. I wanted to talk over things with her. I intended sending her.”
“And did you fix it?”
“No,” with a little laugh, “she’s a very changeable young woman. She says she doesn’t want to go now; that she’s come to the conclusion she doesn’t want to be under the obligation.”
“That’s funny,” said Win. “She must be sort of original. Mommer, why did the governor want to send her to Paris? What was it made him so interested in her?”
“He knew her father long ago, mining, in the Sierra, and Moreau did him a good turn up there. Your father had never forgotten it and was anxious to repay it by helping the daughter. She don’t seem to be easy to help.”
Win, as he dressed for dinner, meditated on his mother’s explanation. It sounded reasonable enough, only a thirst to repay past obligations was not—according to his experience and memories—a peculiarity that had troubled his father. Both he and Maud knew that all the generosities and charities of the household had been inspired by their mother. His childish memory was stocked by recollections of her urging the advantage of the bestowal of pecuniary aid to this and that person, association and charity. It was she who had saved Jake Shackleton from the accusation of meanness, which California society invariably makes against its rich men.
CHAPTER XIV
VAIN PLEADINGS
“Are there not, * * *
Two points in the adventure of the diver: