"Opinions differ. He'll probably get her some day, unless her old man has a change of luck."
"Her old man?"
"Yes. Papa Cabot has always lived up to every cent he could make or inherit; but he's getting mushy and losing his grip. The draught in Wall Street is too strong for him. Persis will hold on as long as she can, but Little Willie is waiting right under the peach-tree with his basket, ready for the first high wind."
"She couldn't marry him."
"Oh, couldn't she? And why not?"
"She can't love a—a—him?"
"He is an awful pill, but he's well coated. His father left him a pile of sugar a mile high, and his mother will leave him another."
"But what has that to do with love?"
"Who said anything about love? This is the era of the modern business woman."
Forbes said nothing, but looked a rebuke that led Ten Eyck to remind him: