istinguishes her is quite the sort of thing that gives a girl, as
Harold says, a 'leg up.' It's awfully curious and has made me think:
he isn't anything whatever, as London estimates go, in himself--so that
what is it, pray, that makes him, when 'added on' to her, so double
Nanda's value? I somehow or other see, through his being known to back
her and through the pretty story of his loyalty to mamma and all the
rest of it (oh if one chose to WORK that!) ever so much more of a chance
for her."

Vanderbank's eyes were on the ceiling. "It IS curious, isn't it?--though
I think he's rather more 'in himself,' even for the London estimate,
than you quite understand." He appeared to give her time to take this
up, but as she said nothing he pursued: "I dare say that if even I now
WERE to enter myself it would strike you as too late."

Her attention to this was but indirect. "It's awfully vulgar to be
talking about it, but I can't help feeling that something possibly
rather big will come of Mr. Longdon."

"Ah we've touched on that before," said Vanderbank, "and you know you
did think something might come even for me."

She continued however, as if she scarce heard him, to work out her own
vision. "It's very true that up to now--"

"Well, up to now?" he asked as she faltered.

She faltered still a little. "I do say the most hideous things. But
we HAVE said worse, haven't we? Up to now, I mean, he hasn't given her
anything. Unless indeed," she mused, "she may have had something without
telling me."

Vanderbank went much straighter. "What sort of thing have you in mind?
Are you thinking of money?"

"Yes. Isn't it awful?"

"That you should think of it?"

"That I should talk this way." Her friend was apparently not prepared
with an assent, and she quickly enough pursued: "If he HAD given her any
it would come out somehow in her expenditure. She has tremendous liberty
and is very secretive, but still it would come out."

"He wouldn't give her any without letting you know. Nor would she,
without doing so," Vanderbank added, "take it."

"Ah," Mrs. Brook quietly said, "she hates me enough for anything."

"That's only your romantic theory."

Once more she appeared not to hear him; she gave the discussion another
turn. "Has he given YOU anything?"

Her visitor smiled. "Not so much as a cigarette. I've always my pockets
full of them, and HE never: so he only takes mine. Oh Mrs. Brook," he
continued, "with me too--though I'