Mr. Wharton smiled sneeringly.  “Admirable!  I begin to see that you’re more than a pretty woman.  Get his sympathy; it’s good business.  Now he’ll think he must act the man.  But that will wear off.  And understand this:  you can’t graft off me.  You and your family are due for a great disappointment.  Bob hasn’t anything, and he won’t have until I die, but I’m good for thirty years yet.  I’m not going to disinherit him.  I’m merely going to wait until you both get tired.  Take my word for it, poverty is the most tiresome thing in the world.”

“We can manage,” said Lorelei.

“You speak for yourself, but he can’t make a living—­unless he has something in him that I never discovered.  I fear you’ll find him rather a heavy burden.”

Throughout the interview Mr. Wharton had kept his temper quite perfectly, and his coolness at this moment argued a greater fixity of purpose than might have been inferred from a display of rage.  He made a final appeal to his son:  “Can’t you see that it won’t do at all, Bob?  I won’t stand parasites, unless they’re my own.  Either have done with the matter and let me pay the charges or—­go through to the bitter finish on your own feet.  She’s supporting three loafers; I dare say she can take care of another, but it isn’t quite right to put it upon her—­she’s sure to weary of it sometime.  You’ll notice I’ve said nothing about your mother so far, but—­she’s with me in this.  I’ll be in the city for several days, and I’d like to have you return to Pittsburg with me when I go.  Mother is expecting you.  If you decide to stick it out—­” Wharton’s face showed more than a trace of feeling, his deep voice lowered a tone—­“you may go to hell, with my compliments, and I’ll sit on the lid to keep you there.”

He rose, took his hat, and stalked out of the apartment without so much as a backward glance.

CHAPTER XVIII

“Whew!  That was a knockout.  But who got licked?” Bob went to the little sideboard and helped himself to a stiff drink.

“Did he mean it?”

“My dear, time wears away mountains, and rivers dry up, and the whole solar system is gradually running down, I believe; but dad isn’t governed by any natural laws whatsoever.  He’s built of reinforced concrete, and time hardens him.  He’s impervious to rust or decay, and gravity exerts no power over him.”

“Then I think you’d better make your choice to-night.”

Bob’s eyes opened.  “I have.  Don’t you understand?  I’m going to stand pat—­that is, unless”—­he hesitated, his smile was a bit uncertain—­“unless you’re sick of your bargain.  I’m afraid you haven’t come out of the deal very well.  You thought I was rich—­ and so did I until a moment ago—­but I’m not.  I’ve run through a good deal.  I don’t blame you for considering me a fine catch or for marrying me.  You see, I never expected to find a girl who’d take me for anything except my money, so I’m