That opportunity came sooner than he had expected.  After dinner, Mrs. McClosky turned to Susy, and playfully telling her that she had “to talk business” with Mr. Brant, bade her go to the salon and await her.  When the young girl left the room, she looked at Clarence, and, with that assumption of curtness with which coarse but kindly natures believe they overcome the difficulty of delicate subjects, said abruptly:—­

“Well, young man, now what’s all this between you and Susy?  I’m looking after her interests—­same as if she was my own girl.  If you’ve got anything to say, now’s your time.  And don’t you shilly-shally too long over it, either, for you might as well know that a girl like that can have her pick and choice, and be beholden to no one; and when she don’t care to choose, there’s me and my husband ready to do for her all the same.  We mightn’t be able to do the anteek Spanish Squire, but we’ve got our own line of business, and it’s a comfortable one.”

To have this said to him under the roof of Mrs. Peyton, from whom, in his sensitiveness, he had thus far jealously guarded his own secret, was even more than Clarence’s gentleness could stand, and fixed his wavering resolution.

“I don’t think we quite understand each other, Mrs. McClosky,” he said coldly, but with glittering eyes.  “I have certainly something to say to you; if it is not on a subject as pleasant as the one you propose, it is, nevertheless, one that I think you and I are more competent to discuss together.”

Then, with quiet but unrelenting directness, he pointed out to her that Susy was a legally adopted daughter of Mrs. Peyton, and, as a minor, utterly under her control; that Mrs. Peyton had no knowledge of any opposing relatives; and that Susy had not only concealed the fact from her, but that he was satisfied that Mrs. Peyton did not even know of Susy’s discontent and alienation; that she had tenderly and carefully brought up the helpless orphan as her own child, and even if she had not gained her affection was at least entitled to her obedience and respect; that while Susy’s girlish caprice and inexperience excused her conduct, Mrs. Peyton and her friends would have a right to expect more consideration from a person of Mrs. McClosky’s maturer judgment.  That for these reasons, and as the friend of Mrs. Peyton, whom he could alone recognize as Susy’s guardian and the arbiter of her affections, he must decline to discuss the young girl with any reference to himself or his own intentions.

An unmistakable flush asserted itself under the lady’s powder.

“Suit yourself, young man, suit yourself,” she said, with equally direct resentment and antagonism; “only mebbee you’ll let me tell you that Jim McClosky ain’t no fool, and mebbee knows what lawyers think of an arrangement with a sister-in-law that leaves a real sister out!  Mebbee that’s a ‘Sister’s title’ you ain’t thought of, Mr. Brant!  And mebbee you’ll