Confessions of a Well-Meaning Woman
And I am not ashamed to confess that I felt hardly adequate to discussing the most momentous decision in my boy’s life. After inviting me to dinner, Sir Appleton seemed to have forgotten all about it. Nine o’clock had struck; and I was faint and sick with hunger. I have reached an age when I like regular meals at regular hours. These business men must have iron constitutions; or else they must eat very hearty luncheons. And I kept saying to myself: “For truly unbusinesslike irregularity, go to your business man.” . .
One thing stood out clearly. As I have always refused to lead Will where his affections were concerned, so I could never stand in the way when once his heart had spoken.
“We must not worry him,” I told Sir Appleton. “Cannot you and I talk over ways and means together? I have no idea what to suggest. As you know, my husband and I are paupers. . .”
He, if any one, after all that he had taken upon himself, was the man to help us out of our difficulty.
“I have a scheme,” he said, “but your son had better hear it, as he will be a party to it.”
I could have gone on my knees to him for a crust of bread. . . It could hardly have been
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