“Why,” replied Barry, “it might take one or two more visits to induce her to be reasonable about it, I don’t know.”
“Well,” said Miss Chichester, “if she doesn’t take it the second time it’s offered to her, she should never have another chance. Barry can’t afford to be perpetually chasing after ungrateful people to force money on them. Can you, Barry?”
“But what if Barry enjoys the chase?” asked Westgate.
Then the vice-president of the Malleson Manufacturing Company awoke to a dim consciousness of the fact that he was being made the subject of gentle raillery.
“Oh, now, look here, Phil,” he said, “the woman’s handsome and all that, you know; but really, belonging, as she does, to the laboring class, it’s not to be presumed that she would drive so conservative a man as I am suddenly daft.”
“She hasn’t driven you suddenly daft, Barry,” replied Westgate. “I’m sure that no one who has known you for any length of time would accuse her of having done that.”
“Philip,” remonstrated Ruth, “behave yourself!”
“And it seems to me,” added Mrs. Tracy, “that it’s entirely out of place anyway to talk about the attractions of a widow whose husband has only been dead for two or three weeks. A woman so recently bereaved is much more likely to spend her time in prayer and meditation than in making herself attractive to men.”
“Mrs. Bradley isn’t,” said Westgate. “Is she, Mr. Farrar? You’ve had some talk with her along religious lines.”
In spite of Ruth’s warning glances, Westgate seemed determined that the conversation should remain centered on Mrs. Bradley.