“Yes.”
“Even your own brother?”
“Yes,” answered Dorothy.
CHAPTER XXVI. THE ULTIMATUM.
“Le plus grand, le plus fort et le plus adroit surtout, est
celui qui sait attendre.”
“If you think that Herr von Holzen is a philanthropist, my dear,” said Marguerite Wade, sententiously, “that is exactly where your toes turn in.”
She addressed this remark to Joan Ferriby, whose eyes were certainly veiled by that cloak of charity which the kind-hearted are ever ready to throw over the sins of others. The two girls were sitting in the quiet old-world garden of the hotel, beneath the shade of tall trees, within the peaceful sound of the cooing doves on the tiled roof. Major White was sitting within earshot, looking bulky and solemn in his light tweed suit and felt hat. The major had given up appearances long ago, but no man surpassed him in cleanliness and that well-groomed air which distinguishes men of his cloth. He was reading a newspaper, and from time to time glanced at his companions, more especially, perhaps, at Joan.
“Major White,” said Marguerite. “Yes.”