"Mr. Todd appears to think so too," she went on with a nod and a knowing look at me. Evidently she was playing Todd against Highrank.
"Mr. David Todd, Jr.?" I asked languidly: "he has thirty thousand a year, hasn't he?"
She looked at me sharply for an instant, then smiled and said, "How should I know, dear Mr. Highrank? It is his rare personal merit that pleases me. I own I am happy to see him so attentive to the child for her sake. She is so impulsive and innocent, so likely to fancy a younger, more dashing kind of man"—here she glanced at me—"that I acknowledge I do feel anxious to have her settled happily. Not but that some young men are exceptions," she continued amiably, "and make excellent husbands."
"There are two classes of men," I remarked quietly. "They can be divided into those who make good husbands and those who don't. Wealthy men are the most superior, and are best fitted to fill the situation."
"I agree with you entirely: you are a very sensible young man," enthusiastically replied the old lady, not recognizing the quotation.
We talked on until Eva came back: then I claimed the next waltz, and decided I would carry her off from Todd. I pressed her hand, but she would not respond: it was plain she was obeying orders.
"Won't you walk with me?" I whispered as we were near an open window in a pause of the dance.
"I can't, Charley—indeed I can't," as I tried to draw her outside: "I will explain another time."
"You are very cruel," I continued in the same undertone.
"You don't care if I am," she said a little bitterly.