"Come now, am I not right?" persisted Lottie.
"I do assure you that I have actually lived to this mature age quite heart-whole," laughed Elsie. "If I have an idol, it is papa, and I don't believe anybody can ever succeed in displacing him."
"You have quite misunderstood me, wilfully or innocently—I asked of your worshippers, not of your idols. Haven't you had offers?"
"Several; money has strong attractions for most men, papa tells me."
"May the Lord preserve you from the sad fate of a woman married for her money, dear child!" ejaculated Aunt Wealthy, with a glance of anxious affection at her lovely niece. "I'm sometimes tempted to think a large amount of it altogether a curse and an affliction."
"It is a great responsibility, auntie," replied Elsie, with a look of gravity beyond her years. Then after a moment's pause, her expression changing to one of gayety and joy, "Now, if you and Lottie will excuse me for a little, I'll run up to my room, and answer papa's letter," she said, rising to her feet. "After which I shall be ready to make myself useful in the capacity of seamstress. Au revoir." And she tripped away with a light, free step, every movement as graceful as those of a young gazelle.
Mr. Bromly Egerton, alias Tom Jackson, was fortunate enough to find
Mrs. Schilling at home. It was she who answered his knock.
"Good-day, sir," she said. "Will you walk in? Just step into the parlor here, and take a seat."
He accepted the invitation and stated his business without preface, or waiting to be questioned at all.
She seemed to be considering for a moment. "Well, yes, I can't say as I'd object to taking a few gentlemen boarders, but—I'd want to know who you be, and all about you."