In the sitting-room below, discussion waxed warm.
"But what shall we do with her?" demanded Mary. "I had meant to give her
my share of the property," she added with an air of great generosity,
"but it seems there's nothing to give."
"No, there's nothing to give," returned Edgar. "The house had to be
mortgaged long ago to pay their living expenses, and it will have to be
sold."
"But she's got to live somewhere!" Mary's voice was fretful,
questioning.
For a moment there was silence; then Edgar stirrad in his chair.
"Well, why can't she go to you, Mary?" he asked.
"Me!" Mary almost screamed the word.
"Why, Edgar!--when you know how much I have on my hands with my great
house and all my social duties, to say nothing of Belle's engagement!"
"Well, maybe Jane could help."
"Help! How. pray?--to entertain my guests?" And even Edgar smiled as he
thought of Jane, in her five-year-old bonnet and her ten-year-old black
gown, standing in the receiving line at an exclusive Commonwealth Avenue
reception.
"Well, but--" Edgar paused impotently.
"Why don't you take her?" It was Mary who made the suggestion.
"I? Oh, but I--" Edgar stopped and glanced uneasily at his wife.
"Why, of course, if it's
necessary," murmured Mrs.
Pages:
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96