“Oh no; I wouldn’t let her do that,” Mrs. Strickland answered. “She’s so pretty. I’m sure she’ll marry well.”
“I should have thought it would be a help to you.”
“Several people have suggested that she should go on the stage, but of course I couldn’t consent to that, I know all the chief dramatists, and I could get her a part to-morrow, but I shouldn’t like her to mix with all sorts of people.”
I was a little chilled by Mrs. Strickland’s exclusiveness.
“Do you ever hear of your husband?”
“No; I haven’t heard a word. He may be dead for all I know.”
“I may run across him in Paris. Would you like me to let you know about him?”
She hesitated a minute.
“If he’s in any real want I’m prepared to help him a little. I’d send you a certain sum of money, and you could give it him gradually, as he needed it.”
“That’s very good of you,” I said.