But Elizabeth has her way.
If I had gone with Beatrice, if I were to go to her now, I should
be only a burden upon her."
"You have no money, then?" Tavernake remarked.
The professor shook his head sadly.
"Speculations, my young friend," he replied, "speculations
undertaken solely with the object of making a fortune for my
children. I have had money and lost it."
"Can't you earn any?" Tavernake asked. "Beatrice doesn't seem
extravagant."
The professor regarded this outspoken young man with an air of
hurt dignity.
"If you will forgive me," he said. "I think that we will choose
another subject of conversation."
"At any rate," Tavernake declared, "you must be fond of your
daughter or you would not come here night after night just to
look at her."
The professor shook out a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed
his eyes.
"Beatrice was always my favorite," he announced solemnly, "but
Elizabeth--well, you can't get away from Elizabeth," he added,
leaning across the table. "To tell you the truth, Mr. Tavernake,
Elizabeth terrifies me sometimes, she is so bold. I am afraid
where her scheming may land us. I would be happier with Beatrice
if only she had the means to satisfy my trifling wants."
He turned to the waiter and ordered a pint of champagne.
"Veuve Clicquot '99," he instructed the man. "At my age," he
remarked, with a sigh, "one has to be careful about these little
matters. The wrong brand of champagne means a sleepless night.
Pages:
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192