Tomes, the butler, entered. "Mr. Verriman, sir, to see you."
"To see _me_?"
"Yes, sir."
Cord just nodded at this, which evidently meant that the visitor was
to be admitted, for Tomes never made a mistake and Verriman presently
entered. Mr. Cord had seen Eddie Verriman the night before at the
ball, and had thought him a very fine figure of a man, so now, putting
two and two together, he said to himself, "Is he here to ask my
blessing?"
Aloud he said nothing, but just nodded; it was a belief that had
translated itself into a habit--to let the other man explain first.
"I know I'm interrupting you, Mr. Cord," Verriman began. Mr. Cord made
a lateral gesture with his hand, as if all he had were at the disposal
of his friends, even his most precious asset--time.
"It's something very important," Eddie went on. "I'm worried. I
haven't slept. Mr. Cord, have you checked up Crystal's economic
beliefs lately?"
"Lately?" said Mr. Cord. "I don't know that I ever have. Have a
cigar?"
Eddie waved the cigar aside as if his host had offered it to him in
the midst of a funeral service.
"Well, I have," he said, as if some one had to do a parent's duty,
"and I've been very much distressed--shocked. I had a long talk with
her about it at the dance last night."
"About economics?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why, Eddie, don't I seem to remember your telling me you were in love
with Crystal?"
"Yes, Mr.
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