When  we  sold  the  old  home,  thank  heaven  it  was  de-
molished, its  memories  undesecrated.  How  I  should
hate  to  think  of  strangers  living  in  mother's  room.
But  you  knew  us  all  in  the  olden  days.  How  natural,
then,  that  I  should  love  your  daughter.
Mrs.  Bostzvick.
What!


Walter.
ist  girl  i
other  like  her.
She  is  the  finest  girl  in  the     world!     There  is  none


Mrs.  Bostzvick.
(Rising  hastily) — You  silly  boy !    What  do  you  mean?

60


Walter.
Nellie.
Mrs.  Bostwick.
What  about  Nellie?

Walter.
I  love  her.  I  want  her  to  be  my  wife.  It  is  like  an
echo  from  the  past  and  a  dream  of  the  future !

Mrs.  Bostzvick.
Nonsense !  A  dream,  indeed  !  Foolish,  foolish,  fool-
ish child.  What  are  you  talking  about?  You  marry
Nellie  ?     How  ridiculous  !

Walter.
Ridiculous  ?     Why  shouldn't  I  ?

Mrs.  Bostzvick.
How  absurd  a  question  !  Why — why — in  a  few  weeks
you  will  be  ruined,  penniless  !  Why — it's — it's — ab-
surd !  You  are  walking  in  your  sleep !  Whatever  put
such  a  notion  in  your  head?

Walter.
Nellie's  beauty  put  it  there,  and  in  my  heart,  too.  But
I  fail  to  see  how  it  is  absurd.  We  are  of  equal  birth.
I  am  a  gentleman.     Our  families  are  on  a  par.
Mrs.  Bostzvick.
O,  yes,  as  to  that.  But  you  can't  take  care  of  her.
Why,  it  is  perfectly,  supremely  ridiculous !  It  is  the
most  foolish  thing  I  ever  heard !

Walter.
(Offended) — I  don't  understand  you,  Mrs.  Bostwick.
You  have  always  pretended  to  be  a  friend.  I  thought
you  liked  me.
61


Mrs.  Bostwick.
