Mrs. Richmond seemed stupefied for the moment by this cool and candid shamelessness.

“I hate beating round the bush,” pursued Beatrice. “So, I might as well tell you at the outset that I intend to marry him.”

“Beatrice!” exclaimed her mother, electrified into panic.

“You know me, mother. You know I always do[115] what I say I’ll do. Didn’t I cut off my hair close to my head when I was eight because you insisted on those foolish curls? Didn’t I——”

[115]

“You have always been obstinate and troublesome,” interrupted her mother. “I’ve warned your father you would make a wreck of your life. But he wouldn’t heed me.”

“Father and I understand each other,” said Beatrice.

“You think he will consent to your marrying that common, poor artist?” demanded her mother excitedly. “Well, for once you are mistaken. In some ways I know your father better than you do. And when it comes to any such insanity as that——”

“Don’t agitate yourself, mother.”

“He’ll cut you off if you do it. I shouldn’t be surprised if he should turn against you as soon as he hears you have thought of such a thing.”

Beatrice listened calmly. “That remains to be seen,” said she.

“I think you’ve lost your mind, Beatrice,” cried her mother, between railing and wailing.

“I think so, too,” replied Beatrice, dreamy-eyed. “Yes, I’m sure I have.”

“This isn’t a bit like you.”

“No, not a bit. I thought I was hard as—as you’ve[116] brought me up to be. I thought I cared only for the material things.”

[116]

“What is the matter with you?”

“I want him,” said the girl, lips compressing resolutely. Presently she added, “And I’m going to get him—at any cost.”

“Trapped by an adventurer! You!”

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