Lois has been kind to me. I
happen to know that, little as she likes me, she is about the only one
in the Station who keeps her tongue from slander and--the truth. As
for John Stafford, if he is a narrow-minded bigot, he is at least a
man, and that is something to appreciate."
"That is just what I think!" Mrs. Cary said conciliatingly. "And
therefore he is the very husband for you, dear child."
"You think so, not because he is a man, but because he has a position
in which it would suit you excellently to have a son-in-law. Well, I
have promised to do my best, though I am convinced it is too late."
"There is no official engagement between them," Mrs. Cary said
hopefully, "and you know your power, Beaty. He already likes you more
than enough, and what with Mr. Travers on the other side--All the
same," she continued, becoming suddenly petulant, "it's too bad of you
to throw away a chance like this."
Beatrice covered her face with her hand with a gesture of complete
weariness.
"I have promised to do my best," she reiterated. "Let me do it my own
way. I can not go to-night--I feel I can not. If I went, it would
only be a failure. Let me for once be judge of what is best."
Her mother sighed resignedly.
"Very well. I suppose I can't force you. You can be as obstinate as a
mule when you choose. I only hope you won't live to regret it. Good
night."
This time she did not give her daughter the usual perfunctory and
barely tolerated kiss.
Pages:
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132