"First name Henry, I believe."
"I don't mean his name. But who is he—what's his family—his financial affiliations?"
"Oh, I see. Mary told me he runs a shoe store up in Buffalo."
"A shoe store! A shoe store!"
"Or perhaps," Jack corrected, "it was a grocery. I'm not certain."
"Oh!" gasped Mrs. De Peyster. "Oh! And—and this—this—Mary person—"
"She plays the piano, and is going to be a professional."
For a moment Mrs. De Peyster's horror was inarticulate. Then it began to regain its power of speech.
"What—you throw away—Ethel Quintard—for a little pianist! You compare a girl like—like that—to Ethel Quintard!"