"That isn't the point," broke in Stuyvesant. "We'll admit the girl won't have to go hungry, but she'll go without a lot of other things that she's been brought up to have, and, as long as I can supply them, things she's entitled to have. On that salary you won't supply her with many cars, you won't supply her with the kind of clothes she is accustomed to, you won't supply her with all the money she wants to spend. What if she does throw it away? That's her privilege now. I've worked twenty-five years to get enough so that she can do just that. There's not a whim in the world she can't satisfy. And the man who marries her must give her every single thing I'm able to give her--and then something more." "In money?" asked Don. "The something more--not in money." He rose and stood before Don. "I've been frank with you, Pendleton, and I'll say I think the girl cares for you. But I know Frances better than you, and I know that, even if she made up her mind to do without all these things, it would mean a sacrifice. As far as I know, she's never had to make a sacrifice since she was born. It isn't necessary. Get that point, Pendleton. It isn't necessary, and I'll not allow any man to make it necessary if I can help it." He paused as if expecting an outburst from Don. The latter remained silent. "I've trusted you with the girl," Stuyvesant concluded. "Up to now I've no fault to find with you. You've lost your head for a minute, but you'll get a grip on yourself. Go ahead and make your fortune, and come to me again. In the mean while, I'm willing to trust you further." "If that means not asking Frances to marry me to-morrow, you can't, sir." "You--you wouldn't ask her to go against my wishes in the matter?" "I would, sir." "And you expect her to do so?" "I hope she will." "Well, she won't," Stuyvesant answered. He was chewing his cigar again. "You spoke of the something more, sir," said Don. "I think I know what that means, and it's a whole lot more than anything your ten thousand can give. When I found myself stony broke, I was dazed for a while, and thought a good deal as you think. Then this summer I found the something more. I wouldn't swap back." "Then stay where you are," snapped Stuyvesant. "Don't try to drag in Frances." Don prepared to leave. "It's a pity you aren't stony broke too," he observed. "Thanks," answered Stuyvesant. "But I'm not, and I don't intend to have my daughter put in that position." "You haven't forgotten that I have a house and twelve hundred?" "I haven't forgotten that is all you have." "You haven't forgotten the something more?" Stuyvesant looked at his watch. "I must be excused now, Pendleton," he concluded. "I think, on the whole, it will be better if you don't call here after this." "As you wish," answered Pendleton. "But I hope you'll come and see us?" "Damn you, Pendleton!" he exploded. Then he turned quickly and left the room. So, after all, it was he in the end who lost his temper.