"Yes, I do.—Please tell me, Dick?" she plead.
"Please tell you what?" he said, indulgently.
"Why you shrugged your shoulders—you were looking toward father—has he done anything—I mean, was he the cause?"
"No, child, he had nothing to do with it."
"You are not deceiving me?"
"Have I ever deceived you?" he asked.
"No! no!" she said. "I did not mean it—but I thought that, maybe, he had—you understand."
"I understand that you are unnecessarily sensitive," he answered. "Your father is a bit eccentric, but he is neither churlish nor ill-mannered—and he is rich enough to be both, if he so wished."
"You believe in wealth, then?" she asked. "You believe that wealth is equal to birth?"
"In a social sense, yes," said he. "Both are the keys to good society.—By birth one belongs, by wealth one buys a right to belong. It is all the same. For my part, I would rather be the wealthy buyer than the poor belonger—it is so much more satisfactory."