“Poor boy!” exclaimed Mrs. Winnie. “And Alice saw him! He must be heartbroken!”
Montague said nothing. “You know,” she went on, “Charlie really means well. He has honestly an affectionate nature.”
She paused; and Montague Said, vaguely, “I suppose so.”
“You don’t like him,” said the other. “I can see that. And I suppose now Alice will have no use for him, either. And I had it all fixed up for her to reform him!”
Montague smiled in spite of himself.
“Oh, I know,” said she. “It wouldn’t have been easy. But you’ve no idea what a beautiful boy Charlie used to be, until all the women set to work to ruin him.”
“I can imagine it,” said Montague; but he did not warm to the subject.
“You’re just like my husband,” said Mrs. Winnie, sadly. “You have no use at all for anything that’s weak or unfortunate.”
There was a pause. “And I suppose,” she said finally, “you’ll be turning into a business man also—with no time for anybody or anything. Have you begun yet?”
“Not yet,” he answered. “I’m still looking round.”