the thing's ridiculous. Who is he? What is he?"
Noel gave an amused chuckle.
"Connie, you really are a joy. You to ask 'Who is he? What is he?' Don't you try to take a leaf out of mother's book. It isn't your rôle."
"Judy's my niece, after all," protested Connie. "Isn't it natural that I should be interested?"
"Natural enough," said Noel. "I hope you are. Ask me if he's a good fellow, and if I think he could make her happy, and I'll be delighted to answer you. But 'who is he?' . . . that sort of tosh. . . . I should think you'd earned the right to be human, if anybody had."
"Very well," answered his chastened aunt. "Is he good enough?"
"I think he's as near being good enough as any fellow I've met. If he had any money at all, I should call it a match. But he hasn't, and I don't know how Judy would like being downright poor."
"All the same," Connie insisted, "I can't help wishing that my only niece would make a good match."
Noel raised his eyes heavenward, despairingly.
"For a woman who deemed the world well lost for love. . . ."
