“Don't you think that you are a trifle too sensitive concerning honor?” she asked. “And too suspicious besides? I do. Oh, I am tired of your scruples. I don't like to see you letting success and—and all the rest of it pass you by, when other men, not so overscrupulous, do succeed. Don't you care for success? Or for money?”
John interrupted her. He leaned forward and spoke, deliberately but firmly. And he looked her straight in the face.
“I do,” he said. “I care for both—now—more than I ever thought I could care.”
And, all at once, the young lady seemed to remember that her cousin and the captain were in the room. She colored, and when she spoke it was in a different tone.
“Then,” she said, “it seems to me, if I were you, I should accept the opportunities that came in my way. Of course, it's not my affair. I shouldn't have presumed to advise.” She rose and moved toward the door. “Good night, Mr. Kendrick,” she said. “Good night, Captain Bangs. Auntie, you will excuse me, won't you? I am rather tired tonight, and—”
But once more Kendrick interrupted.
“One moment, please, Miss Howes,” he said, earnestly. “Do I understand—do you mean that you wish me to accept Cousin Holliday's retainer?”
Emily paused.
“Why,” she answered, after an instant's hesitation, “I—I really don't see why my wish one way or the other should be very strong. But—but as a friend of yours—of course we are all your friends, Mr. Kendrick—as one of your friends I—we, naturally, like to see you rise in your profession.”
“Then you advise me to accept?”