After an hour, when they parted at the club stand, for which Carter could not afford a ticket, he asked wistfully: “Do you often come racing?” and Miss Ingram said: “Do you mean, am I coming to-morrow?”
“I do!” said Carter.
“Then, why didn’t you say that?” inquired Miss Ingram. “Otherwise I mightn’t have come. I have the Holland House coach for to-morrow, and, if you’ll join us, I’ll save a place for you, and you can sit in our box.
“I’ve lived so long abroad,” she explained, “that I’m afraid of not being simple and direct like other American girls. Do you think I’ll get on here at home?”
“If you get on with every one else as well as you’ve got on with me,” said Carter morosely, “I will shoot myself.”
Miss Ingram smiled thoughtfully. “At eleven, then,” she said, “in front of the Holland House.”
Carter walked away with a flurried, heated suffocation around his heart and a joyous lightness in his feet. Of the first man he met he demanded, “Who was the beautiful girl in the rain-coat?” And when the man told him, Carter left him without speaking. For she was quite the richest girl in America. But the next day that fault seemed to distress her so little that Carter, also, refused to allow it to rest on his conscience, and they were very happy. And each saw that they were happy because they were together.
The ridiculous mother was not present at the races, but after Carter began to call at their house and was invited to dinner, Mrs. Ingram received him with her habitual rudeness. As an impediment in the success of her ambition she never considered him. As a boy friend of her daughter’s, she classed him with “her” lawyer and “her” architect and a little higher than the “person” who arranged the flowers. Nor, in her turn, did Dolly consider her mother; for within two months another matter of controversy between Dolly and Carter was as to who had first proposed to the other. Carter protested there never had been any formal proposal, that from the first they had both taken it for granted that married they would be. But Dolly insisted that because he had been afraid of her money, or her mother, he had forced her to propose to him.
“You could not have loved me very much,” she complained, “if you’d let a little thing like money make you hesitate.”
“It’s not a little thing,” suggested Carter. “They say it’s several millions, and it happens to be YOURS. If it were MINE, now!” “Money,” said Dolly sententiously, “is given people to make them happy, not to make them miserable.”