"Of course." She opened wide her bedroom door and stood there, waiting for him, the lamp in her hand. Her beauty was enhanced by the loose-flowing cotton wrapper of pale pink. Her dark heavy hair was braided for the night and coiled again and again, crown fashion, on her head.
"Aunt Meda never could hold a candle to mother!" was Champney Googe's thought on entering. The two sat down for the usual before-turning-in-chat.
He was so full of his subject that it overflowed at once in abrupt speech.
"Mother, I've had a letter from Mr. Van Ostend—"
"Oh, Champney!" There was the joy of anticipation in her voice.
"Now, mother, don't—don't expect anything," he pleaded, "for you'll be no end cut up over the whole thing. Now, listen." He read the letter; the tone of his voice indicated both disgust and indignation.
"Now, look at that!" He burst forth eruptively when he had finished. "Here we've been banking on an offer for some position in the syndicate, at least, something that would help clear the road to Wall Street where I should be able to strike out for myself without being dependent on any one—I didn't mince matters that day of the dinner when I told him what I wanted, either! And here I get an offer to go to Europe for five years and study banking systems and the Lord knows what in London, Paris, and Berlin, and act as a sort of super in his branch offices. Great Scott! Does he think a man is going to waste five years of his life in Europe at a time when twenty-four hours here at home might make a man! He's a donkey if he thinks that, and I'd have given him credit for more common sense—"
"Now, Champney, stop right where you are. Don't boil over so." She repressed a smile. "Let's talk business and look at matters as they stand."
"I can't;" he said doggedly; "I can't talk business without a business basis, and this here,"—he shook the letter much as Rag shook a slipper,—"it's just slop! What am I going to do over there, I'd like to know?" he demanded fiercely; whereupon his mother took the letter from his hand and, without heeding his grumbling, read it carefully twice.
"Now, look here, Champney," she said firmly; "you must use some reason. I admit this isn't what you wanted or I expected, but it's something; many would think it everything. Didn't you tell me only yesterday that in these times a man is fortunate to get his foot on any round of the ladder—"