"
Lionel looked at him, with those bright, restless eyes, for a second or
two, as if to gather something from his expression; and then he wrote:
"Is it about Francie?"
Maurice nodded; it was enough. Lionel stretched out his hot hand and
took that of his companion.
"I am glad," he said, in a low voice. And then, after a moment or two's
thinking, he turned to his writing again: "Well, it _is_ hard, Maurice.
I have been looking forward to this for many a day, and have been
wondering how I should congratulate you both. And I get the news
now--when I'm ruined. I haven't enough money even to buy a
wedding-present for Francie!"
"Do you think she will mind that?" Mangan said, cheerfully. "But I'm
going to send her your good wishes, Linn--now, when I write. And look
here, if she should come up to see you, or your father and mother--for
it is quite possible the doctors may insist on your giving your voice a
rest for a considerable while--well, if they should come up from
Winstead, mind you say nothing about your monetary troubles. They
needn't be mentioned to anybody, nor need they worry you; I dare say I
shall be able to get something more done; it will be all right.
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