“Not get married, my boy?”
“I’m afraid there’s some truth in it, though the matter rests on certain conditions. Do you know, it worries me considerably?”
“I should think it would. You have been a regular Bohemian, living from hand to mouth, always cheerful and contented. Now you will have to turn over a new leaf and go to work.”
“Perhaps so; but somehow you’ve got the cart before the horse. It has happened before now that the wife has supported the husband.”
“Wycherley, I didn’t think that of you.”
“Well,” resumes the other with a little laugh, “I suppose I’d have my hands full looking after her stocks and bonds, as a sort of agent or manager. That is one reason I’ve devoted myself to the markets so assiduously of late—ever since the subject has been broached, in fact.”
“Then the lady is—ahem—very wealthy?”
“Im—mensely so.”
“Accept my congratulations, Wycherley. May you——”
“Hold on, Aleck, my boy; it isn’t all settled yet.”