"What did I tell you?" said Lawrence.
"Oh, please don't tell me again," entreated Carrissima. "What is the use?"
"A pity you didn't think of all this," he persisted, "before you took the woman up. I knew what she was. I told Phoebe."
"What nonsense," said Carrissima. "As if any human being could have imagined she would dream of marrying father that night Mark told us he had met her again."
"Well," cried Lawrence in his most weighty tone, "we may see something when Mark comes back from Paris. Odd that he hasn't written to Phoebe once since he went away—his only sister! Mark may upset the apple cart yet. It's certain he was pretty far gone, and I don't suppose she cares whom she marries, as long as he has a decent income. It's true she would naturally prefer a husband who is not likely to live many years."
"Oh, Lawrence!" expostulated Phoebe. "How can you talk like that. He doesn't mean what he says, Carrissima."
"Indeed I do," he answered. "I am a man of the world."
"Still," said Carrissima, "you needn't be a man of the flesh and the devil!"
"Anyhow," returned Lawrence, "we shall see what happens when Mark comes back."
"One thing is certain," said Carrissima, "nothing on earth would induce me to live at home if father were to marry Bridget."