"He doesn't know he's too rich," said Mr. Copley, with a little bitterness. "No St. Leger ever did that."
"Well, father, that's what he is. Very handsome, and very rich. He is nothing else. He would suit some people admirably; but he don't suit me."
"What sort of thing would suit you?"
"A very perverse sort of a person, who is called Frank Collinshaw Copley."
"Well, you've got me," said her father, laughing a little at her. He could not help it. "You want something else besides."
"I don't, father, indeed."
"And, my child, money is necessary in this world. You cannot get along without money."
"Father, will you come to Venice? and we'll get along with very little money. Father, we must go, for mother. The doctor says so, and she is just longing to go. We ought to go as soon as ever you can be ready."
"You show how much you know about it, when you talk of Venice and a little money! You had better take Mr. St. Leger."
"Father, everybody says living is cheap in Switzerland."