"He may have to fight."
"Do you think I want him dragged to defend the honor of his country? I'd rather see him dead." He was struggling for composure.
"Oh, I shouldn't have told you," she said, solicitously.
"Why not? It is my right to know."
"Jean is a pretty little thing, and you may like her."
"I like McKenzie," thoughtfully.
She glanced at him. His old face had fallen into gentler lines. She gave a hard laugh. "Of course, a rich man like your son rather dazzles the eyes of a young girl like Jean."
"You think then it is his—money?"
"I shouldn't like to say that. But, of course, money adds to his charms."
"He won't have any money," grimly, "unless I choose that he shall. I can stop his allowance tomorrow. And what would the little lady do then?"