"And that nice little plate of fruit is for him?" I exclaimed.
Miss Spencer glanced at it tenderly. "They do that so prettily!" she murmured.
I felt helpless and irritated. "Come now, really," I said; "do you approve of that long strong fellow accepting your funds?" She looked away from me; I was evidently giving her pain. The case was hope less; the long strong fellow had "interested" her.
"Excuse me if I speak of him so unceremoniously," I said. "But you are really too generous, and he is not quite delicate enough. He made his debts himself; he ought to pay them himself."
"He has been foolish," she answered; "I know that. He has told me everything. We had a long talk this morning; the poor fellow threw himself upon my charity. He has signed notes to a large amount."
"The more fool he!"
"He is in extreme distress; and it is not only himself. It is his poor wife."
"Ah, he has a poor wife?"
"I didn't know it; but he confessed everything. He married two years since, secretly."
"Why secretly?"
Caroline Spencer glanced about her, as if she feared listeners. Then softly, in a little impressive tone,—"She was a countess!"
"Are you very sure of that?"
"She has written me a most beautiful letter."
"Asking you for money, eh?"
