“Has he done something that isn't fair to you?”
The boy saw the beginning of tears in his mother's eyes. “Lanny, I don't think it's right for you to take up notions like that, and cross-question me and try to pin me down —”
“But I'm only trying to understand, Beauty!”
“You can't understand, because you aren't old enough, and these things are complicated and difficult. It's hard for a woman to know her own heart, to say nothing of trying to explain it to her son.” “Well, I wish very much that you'd do what you can,” said Lanny, gravely. Something told him that this was a crisis in their lives; and how he wished he could grow up suddenly! “Can you love two men at the same time, Beauty?”
“That is what I've been asking myself for a long while. Apparently I can.” Beauty hadn't intended to make any such confession, but she was in a state of inner turmoil, and it was her nature to blurt things out. “My love for Marcel has always been that of a mother; I've thought of him as a helpless child that needed me.”
“Well, doesn't he still need you? And if he does, what is going to become of him?”
Tears were making their way onto Beauty's tender cheeks. She didn't answer, and Lanny wondered if it was because she had no answer. He was afraid of hurting his mother; but also he was afraid of seeing her hurt Marcel. He had watched them both on the yacht, and impressions of their love had been indelibly graven upon his mind. Marcel adored her; and what would he do without her?
“Tell me this, Beauty, have you told Harry you will marry him?”
“No, I haven't exactly said that; but he wants me so much —”
“Well, I don't think you ought to make up your mind to such a step in a hurry. If it's debts, you ought to talk to Robbie about them.”