“How is your brother-in-law this morning?” he inquired.

“Oh,” she said, laughing, “he’s in a mixture of feeling very well and feeling that he ought not to feel so, but, as they are coming up pretty soon, it would appear that the misgivings are not overwhelming.  He came in last night, and retired without saying a word.  My sister pretended to be asleep.  She says he went to sleep at once, and that she was awake at intervals and knows that he slept like a top.  He won’t make any very sweeping admissions, however, but has gone so far as to concede that he had a very pleasant evening—­which is going a long way for him—­and to say that you are a very agreeable young man.  There!  I didn’t intend to tell you that, but you have been so good that perhaps so much as a second-hand compliment is no more than your due.”

“Thank you very much,” said John.  “Mr. Carling is evidently a very discriminating person.  Really it wasn’t good of me at all.  I was quite the gainer, for he entertained me more than I did him.  We had a very pleasant evening, and I hope we shall have more of them, I do, indeed.  I got an entirely different impression of him,” he added.

“Yes,” she said, “I can imagine that you did.  He can be very agreeable, and he is really a man of a great deal of character when he is himself.  He has been goodness itself to me, and has managed my affairs for years.  Even to-day his judgment in business matters is wonderfully sound.  If it had not been for him,” she continued, “I don’t know but I should have been a pauper.  My father left a large estate, but he died very suddenly, and his affairs were very much spread out and involved and had to be carried along.  Julius put himself into the breach, and not only saved our fortunes, but has considerably increased them.  Of course, Alice is his wife, but I feel very grateful to him on my own account.  I did not altogether appreciate it at the time, but now I shudder to think that I might have had either to ‘fend for myself’ or be dependent.”

“I don’t think that dependence would have suited your book,” was John’s comment as he took in the lines of her clear-cut face.

“No,” she replied, “and I thank heaven that I have not had to endure it.  I am not,” she added, “so impressed with what money procures for people as what it saves them from.”

“Yes,” said John, “I think your distinction is just.  To possess it is to be free from some of the most disagreeable apprehensions certainly, but I confess, whether to my credit or my shame I don’t know, I have never thought much about it.  I certainly am not rich positively, and I haven’t the faintest notion whether I may or not be prospectively.  I have always had as much as I really needed, and perhaps more, but I know absolutely nothing about the future.”  They were leaning over the rail on the port side.

“I should think,” she said after a moment, looking at him thoughtfully, “that it was, if you will not think me presuming, a matter about which you might have some justifiable curiosity.”