"She has."
"She is in love!"
Minola assented.
Mr. Money ran his hand through his hair, got up and walked a turn or two up and down the study.
"The other day she was a child, and cared for nobody in the world but her mother and me! Now a young fellow comes along, and, like the Earl of Lowgave's lassie in the old song, she does not love her mammy nor she does not love her daddy."
"Oh, but I don't think that at all," Miss Grey said earnestly. "No girl could be fonder of her father and mother."
Mr. Money smiled good-humoredly, but with a look of pity, as one who corrects an odd mistake.
"I know that very well, Miss Grey, and I was not speaking seriously, or grumbling at my little lassie. But it does astonish us elderly parents, when we find out all of a sudden that there are other persons more important than we in the eyes of our little maidens, and we may as well relieve our minds by putting the feeling into words. Well, you know the hero of this little romance?"
Minola was looking steadily at the fire, and away from Mr. Money. She did not answer at once, and there was a pause. The suddenness of the silence aroused her.
"Oh, yes, Mr. Money. I know who he is," she said, without looking round.