“Just as you please,” he answered. Some of his hopefulness had left him after the first proper daylight look at her. Her appearance was so discouragingly adult and reasonable; so altogether foreign to romance. She was not smiling either. He began resolutely. “Miss Defoe, I don’t think you quite understand the----” “Oh, I _do_!” she assured him, earnestly. “Indeed I do! I’ve thought of nothing else since I heard of it. Mr. Naylor, I want to help you and Frankie. I want you both to be happy. But I don’t--I _can’t_ think it wise for you to marry just now. I don’t in the least want to separate you entirely. That would be cruel. I only want Frankie to wait until you are--more--better....” “I understand.” “I wish very much you’d let me lend you enough to go out and see her----” “Miss Defoe!” he said sternly, “I said before I can’t listen to that.” She laid her hand on his arm and looked up into his face with a troubled frown. “Mr. Naylor! It’s just as Frankie’s sister I’m speaking.... It’s only because I want to _understand_. I’m practical, much more so than Frankie. Won’t you please tell me just how--just what your income is--what your prospects are?” She watched his face. “Please don’t resent it,” she said. “It’s not curiosity!” “I’m sure----” he answered, with vague politeness. But nevertheless he did resent it; that was Frankie’s business and his business, and _not_ Minnie’s. She held them both in her power, however, and he was obliged to answer her. “I’ve about five hundred dollars a year,” he said stiffly, “that’s all. I’m looking about for a job of some sort.” “What business have you been in?” “None. Except for a few weeks with my brother.” “Can’t he help you?” “No.... Not exactly. We’re not on good terms.” “That’s too bad! What do you expect to find? What sort of job?” “I don’t know. Frankie used to suggest things. She knew the country better than I, of course.” “Poor Frankie! And that’s what you were counting on--_some sort_ of work!” She sighed. “I’m sorry for you. You don’t know the trouble you’ll have.” He was nettled, as she meant him to be. Her intention was to make him feel a fool, to show him the utter folly of Frankie’s ideas. He could not bring himself to tell her that Frankie had intended to keep her own position, he was ashamed of that. He felt that Minnie despised him, and he didn’t blame her. He thrust his hands into his empty pockets, and silently cursed the universe--and Minnie. He hadn’t even money for his dinner. Not a sou. And no Frankie to advise him. He had a sudden terrible feeling of desolation. “Oh, Lord!” he groaned. “What is it?” asked Minnie. “I suppose ... I haven’t any right to think of Frankie. I suppose--if I let her alone, she’ll forget me, and make a better match out there.” Minnie knew what the matrimonial prospects were in Brownsville Landing; still she looked grave.