“The war—what war?” asked Mr. Dosson.
“Why the Franco-German—”
“Oh THAT old war!” And Mr. Dosson almost laughed. “Well?” he mildly continued.
“Then my father’s so good as to make me a decent allowance; and some day I shall have more—from him.”
Mr. Dosson appeared to think these things over. “Why, you seem to have fixed it so you live mostly on other folks.”
“I shall never attempt to live on you, sir!” This was spoken with some vivacity by our young man; he felt the next moment that he had said something that might provoke a retort. But his companion showed no sharpness.
“Well, I guess there won’t be any trouble about that. And what does my daughter say?”
“I haven’t spoken to her yet.”
“Haven’t spoken to the person most interested?”
“I thought it more orthodox to break ground with you first.”