“Fanny,” said Briggs, gently.
Fanny edged toward the table. “Well?” She still kept out of reach.
“Come over here,” Briggs urged.
Fanny stood at her uncle’s side, with one hand on the desk; Briggs let his hand rest on hers. “If you and Guy are really in love with each other, I have a bit of advice to give you.”
“Oh, you’re going to tell me how foolish it is to get married, aren’t you? That’s the way married people always talk.”
Briggs smiled and shook his head. “No, I don’t mean that.”
“Well? Wait till Guy gets rich, I suppose.” Fanny sighed. “Then I know I shall die an old maid!”
“No, I don’t mean that, either.”
“What do you mean, then?” Fanny said, severely.
“Make him give up the foolish notion he has of going into politics.”