"Oh, yes—I know," cried Lucille, impatiently. "You are one of Mr. Howard's partisans. They are so numerous and so ready to speak for him—and he will never speak for himself."
"Then," said John Turner, smoking placidly, "let us agree to differ on that point."
But Lucille had no such intention.
"Does Mr. Howard ask you—you and mother, and sometimes Alphonse—to fight his battles for him and to sing his praises to me?"
Turner did not answer at once.
"Well?" she inquired, impatiently.
"I was just thinking how long it is since Dick Howard mentioned your name to me—about three months, I believe."
Lucille walked on with her head erect.
"What have you against him?" asked Turner, after a short silence.
"It was from your house that Mr. Howard came to us. He came to my father assuring him that he was poor, which he told me afterwards was only a subterfuge and false pretence. I then learnt from Mr. Gayerson that this was not the truth. I suppose Mr. Howard thought that a woman's affection is to be bought by gold."