He made his way to where Leonora was sitting on a sofa in the library and took his seat beside her, with intent to continue the conversation which they had begun at the dinner, but he forgot his problems as he looked into her merry, candid eyes.
Her first word was a compliment to his mother. "How pretty she looks to-night! No one would suspect her of being 'the dark and subtle siren' of yesterday's Star. Her face is positively angelic at this moment. How beautiful she must have been as a girl! I must say you do not resemble her."
"Thank you," he said.
She laughingly explained. "I mean you are so tall and dark. You must resemble your father."
"I believe I do, although I cannot remember him."
"I wonder if he had your absurd pride. Aunt Louise tells me you absolutely refuse to accept any favor from her, and that you were practically forced into coming to dinner to-night. Is that true?"
He leaned toward her with intense seriousness. "How would you feel if you had suddenly learned that all your clothing, your food, your theater tickets—everything had been paid for in money drawn from strangers by means of—well—hypnotism."
"If I believed that I should feel as you do, but I don't. It is not so simple as all that. Your mother's power seems very real to me, and so far as I can now see she has given us all value received for every dollar. By rights one-half of all our profits belongs to her, or, if you prefer, to her Voices. Do you know that these Voices will not permit her to retain more than a scanty living out of all the wealth she makes for others? Did you know that?"
"I know she lives in a shabby apartment, and she tells me that she is entirely under the control of these 'guides.'"
"Yes, they refuse to let her keep anything beyond what she actually needs for herself and your education. I think all that should be counted in on her side, don't you? The fact that she is not enriching herself surely makes her part in the transaction a clean one."