"At all events, my mother would not."
"And you are—my stepson."
"No." Dick considered. "If I were your stepson, my mother would have come first. I'm not your stepson. In fact, there isn't a word in the language to express the relationship. But—if I may venture——"
"Alice," Molly interposed, "make a friend of Dick, as you have of me. He will be the handiest, usefullest friend you can have. And he really is the best fellow in the world—aren't you, Dick?"
"Of course I am," he replied stoutly.
"As for trying to get money from you, he is incapable of it. Dick is one of the few people in the world who don't want money. You must call him Dick, though."
The pale lady smiled faintly. "Dick," she said, "if I may ... we have a common sorrow and a common misfortune—mine, to have married a bad man; you, to be his son. Can these things make a foundation for friendship?"
"Let us try," said Dick, with something like a moistening of the eye. He was a tender-hearted, sentimental creature, who could not bear to see a woman suffer.
Alice held out her thin, white hand. Dick took it and kissed it.