“My dear,” Harriet said, as Richard, with a troubled face, remained silent.  “It isn’t the money that we are worrying about.  Why, ask your father, Nina!  Ask him if he wouldn’t write Royal Blondin a check for any sum to-day, any sum, if you and he would promise solemnly to wait three years more.  You will only be twenty-one then, Nina, still such a child!”

Harriet paused, glancing at Richard for encouragement; he nodded eagerly, and she went on: 

“Marriage is a tremendous thing, Nina, and the only thing that makes it right—–­”

“If you’re going to say love,” Nina broke in, scornfully, “you didn’t marry Father for love!”

“I was going to say mutual understanding and respect,” Harriet said, quietly, but the splendid colour flooded her face as she spoke, “and you do not understand life, Nina, or men, or marriage.  Royal Blondin is a charming man, and a gifted man, but he is an adventurer, dear; he is a man who has lived in all sorts of places, known all sorts of persons, accepted all sorts of queer codes.  There are coarse elements in him, Nina, things that would utterly sicken and frighten you!  Your father is right; you would be back with us in a few months or years, perhaps with a child, perhaps shattered in body as well as soul—­not free to take up your life again with Ward and Amy, but scarred and embittered and changed—!”

“My God, how that woman loves the child!” Richard said to himself, watching her.  To him she seemed inspired.  Her eyes were blurred with tears, her voice shaking, and she had leaned over to clasp Nina’s hands, and so hold the girl’s unwilling attention.

“Nina, can’t you trust your father that far?” Harriet finished.  “Can’t you realize that a man like Royal, embarrassed for money—­ no matter if he truly admires you, and truly means to make you happy—­can’t think of you without thinking also of what your generous checks are going to mean to him?  Write him a check for eleven thousand, Nina, as a consolation for delaying the marriage a year.  Try it!”

Nina rose to her feet.  Her trembling mouth was desperately scornful, and her eyes brimming, although she fought tears.

“I don’t know why my own family is the first to think that nobody could possibly love me for myself!” she said, in a breaking voice.  “First Harriet ruins my friendship with Ladybird—­and then—­then—!”

“Listen, Nina,” her father said.  He and Harriet had come around to stand beside her, and he had encircled the shaking and protesting shoulders with his arm.  “I have just telephoned Fox to make reservations for me on the next Brazilian steamer.  I shall have to be a month or six weeks in Rio de Janeiro every year now.  Now I’ve just been wondering why you and Harriet don’t come with me this first trip?  We stop at the Barbadoes and Bahia; it’s a magnificent steamer—­swimming tanks and gymnasium; you’ll love it, and you’ll love a touch of the South American countries, too, a chance to try your Spanish.  Why not put off this marriage idea for a year, come along with me, you’ll make steamer acquaintances, you’ll broaden out a little bit—­”