"What, for instance?"
"Well, I'm going to marry Felicite, to begin with, then maybe some of my friends will give me a job."
"I will," said Blake.
"Thanks, but—I'd rather impose on somebody else at the start. I want to make good on my own merits, understand? I've lived off my relatives long enough. It's just as bad to let the deceased members of your family support you as to allow the live ones—"
"Bernie!" Blake interrupted, gravely. "I'm afraid I won't marry Myra
Nell."
"You think she won't have you, eh? She has been acting queerly of late; but leave it to me."
Norvin was spared the necessity of further explanation by the arrival of the girl herself. Miss Warren seemed strangely lacking in her usual abundance of animal spirits; she was obviously ill at ease, and the sight of her brother did not lessen her embarrassment. During the brief interchange of pleasantries her eyes were fixed upon Blake with a troubled gaze.
"We—I just ran in for a moment," she said, and seemed upon the point of leaving after inquiring solicitously about his health.
"My dear," said Bernie, with elaborate unction, "Norvin and I have just been discussing your engagement."
Miss Warren gasped and turned pale; Blake stammered.