He had not heard her enter. Now he rose, the book falling to the floor.
“Why—why, yes,” he stammered. “How are you feeling? How is your head?”
“It is no worse. And no better. I have been thinking, too, which perhaps explains it. Sit down, Albert, please. I want to talk with you. That is what I have been thinking about, that you and I must talk.”
She seated herself upon the davenport and he pulled forward a chair and sat facing her. For a moment she was silent. When she did speak, however, her question was very much to the point.
“Why did you say 'No' to Father's offer?” she asked. He had been expecting this very question, or one leading up to it. Nevertheless, he found answering difficult. He hesitated, and she watched him, her impatience growing.
“Well?” she asked.
He sighed. “Madeline,” he said, “I am afraid you think me very unreasonable, certainly very ungrateful.”
“I don't know what to think about you. That is why I feel we must have this talk. Tell me, please, just what Father said to you this afternoon.”
“He said—well, the substance of what he said was to offer me a position in his office, in his firm.”
“What sort of a position?”