“But his wife and his daughters!” exclaimed the other.
“Oh, that's not it—the family stays in Pittsburg. It's only himself this time. All the same,” Oliver added, after a pause, “I'd like to wager you that if you were to meet Jim Gamble's four prize daughters, you'd find it hard to tell them from the real thing. They've been to a swell boarding-school, and they've had everything that money can buy them. My God, but I'm tired of hearing about their accomplishments!”
“But do you mean to tell me,” the other protested, “that your friends will stand for a man like that?”
“Some of them will. He's got barrels of money, you know. And he understands the situation perfectly—he won't make many mistakes.”
“But what in the world does he want?”
“Leave that to him.”
“And you,” demanded Montague; “you are getting money for this?”
Oliver smiled a long and inscrutable smile. “You don't imagine that I'm in love with him, I trust. I thought you'd be interested to see the game, that's why I introduced him.”
“That's all very well,” said the other. “But you have no right to inflict such a man upon Alice.”
“Oh, stuff!” said Oliver. “She'll meet him at Newport this summer, anyway. How could I introduce him anywhere else, if I wasn't willing to introduce him here? He won't hurt Alice. He gave her a good time this evening, and I wager she'll like him before he gets through. He's really a good-natured chap; the chief trouble with him is that he gets confidential.”