"Well, suppose he does make more than that; say that he may make two hundred thousand. And even then what does it amount to in comparison with what I offer?"
"But you know he wants to be independent."
"Independent!" he repeated. "I'll swear I don't understand that sort of independence."
"Well," she said, with a consoling sigh, "it will come out all right after a while."
They were sitting in Mrs. Witherspoon's room. The footman announced that Mr. Brooks was waiting in the library. Witherspoon frowned.
"You needn't see him, dear," said his wife.
"Yes, I will. But I am tired and don't care to discuss business affairs. Of late he brings nothing but bad news."
The manager was exquisitely dressed and wore a rose on the lapel of his coat. "I am on my way to an entertainment at the Yacht Club," said he, when the merchant entered the library, "and I thought I'd drop in for a few moments."
"I'm glad you did," Witherspoon replied. "Sit down."
"I haven't long to stay," said Brooks, seating himself. "I am on one of the committees and must be getting over. Is your son going?"