Mrs. Fraley beckoned me aside and whispered:
“The dear child is making wonderful progress. She is copying that for one of the New York magazines. Muriel has made a great social success in Rome. Mrs. Wartz has taken her up, and her name is in the Paris Herald almost every day.”
In a moment she made an illuminating proposal:
“I want to borrow fifty thousand dollars on good security—the bonds of the Great Bend & Lake Michigan Traction Company,” she said. “I would pay you a liberal fee if you would help me.”
“It's a bad time to borrow money,” I answered. “Is it a bust or a painting?”
“Neither; it's Miss Muriel's marriage portion. The count has proposed, and I find that he is one of the dearest, noblest young men that ever lived.”
There was no help for these people. An appeal to their minds was like shooting into the sky or writing in water. You couldn't land on them.
“Oh, then it's a husband!” I exclaimed.
“Yes, and we want to take him home with us.”
“He requires cash down?”