his age, and with that damned romantic head—but to be put aside for a lot of low mongrelly socialist mill-hands—ah, my poor girl—my poor girl!”
lVIrs. Ansell mused. “You didn’t write me that things were so bad. There’s been no actual quarrel?” she asked.
“How can there be, when the poor child does all he wants? He’s simply too busy to come and thank her!”
“Too busy at Hanaford?”
“So he says. Introducing the golden age at Westmore—it’s likely to be the age of copper at Lynbrook.”
Mrs. Ansell drew a meditative breath. “I was thinking of that. I understood that Bessy would have to retrench while the changes at Westmore were going on.”
“Well—didn’t she give up Europe, and cable over to countermand her new motor?”
“But the life here! This mob of people! Miss Brent tells me the house is full for every week-end.”
“Would you have my daughter cut off from all her friends?”
Mrs. Ansell met this promptly. “From some of the new ones, at any rate! Have you heard who has just arrived?”
Mr. Langhope’s hesitation showed a tinge of embarrassment. “I’m not sure—some one has always just arrived.”
[ 216 ]
