"Well, what have you been thinking?" inquired the other, helpfully.
"It has occurred to me that I can get along very nicely on half of what you are paying me,—or even less. If it were not for the fact that my poor brother depends solely upon me for support, I could spare practically all of my salary to—for—"
"Go on," said the Marchioness gently.
"In any case, I can give Eric half of my salary if it will be of any assistance to him,—yes, a little more than half," said Jane, a warm, lovely flush in her cheeks.
The Marchioness hastily pressed the serviette to her lips. She seemed to be choking. It was some time before she could trust herself to say:
"Bless your heart, my dear, he wouldn't take it. Of course," she went on, after a moment, "it would please him beyond words if you were to suggest it to him."
"I shall do more," said Jane, resolutely. "I shall insist."
"It will tickle him almost to death," said the Marchioness, again raising the napkin to her lips.
At twelve o'clock the next day. Trotter's voice came blithely over the telephone.
"Are you there, darling? Lord, it seems like a century since I—"
"Listen, Eric," she broke in. "I have something very important to tell you. Now, do listen—are you there?"
"Right-o! Whisper it, dear. The telephone has a million ears. I want to hear you say it,—oh, I've been wanting—"
