"Be great--be great. I'm old, I've lived, I've seen. Go in for a great material position. That will simplify everything else."
"I'll do what I can for you--anything, everything I can. Trust me--leave me alone," Nick went on.
"And you'll stay over--you'll spend the day with her?"
His mother had hold of his hand again now: she raised it to her lips and kissed it. "My dearest son, my only joy!" Then: "I don't see how you can resist her," she added.
She looked about--there was so much to look at--with a deep exhalation. "If you're so fond of art, what art is equal to all this? The joy of living in the midst of it--of seeing the finest works every day! You'll have everything the world can give."
"That's exactly what was just passing in my own mind. It's too much," Nick reasoned.
"Unselfish then. You'll share it with us."
"And with Julia a little, I hope," he said.
"God bless you!" cried his mother, looking up at him. Her eyes were detained by the sudden sense of something in his own that was not clear to her; but before she could challenge it he asked abruptly:
"Why do you talk so of poor Biddy? Why won't she marry?"
"You had better ask Peter Sherringham," said Lady Agnes.
"How odd of you not to know--when it's so plain how she thinks of him that it's a matter of common gossip."
"Yes, if you will--we've made it so, and she takes it as an angel. But Peter likes her."
"Does he? Then it's the more shame to him to behave as he does. He had better leave his wretched actresses alone. That's the love of art too!" mocked Lady Agnes.
But Nick glossed it all over. "Biddy's so charming she'll easily marry some one else."
"Never, if she loves him. However, Julia will bring it about--Julia will help her," his mother pursued more cheerfully. "That's what you'll do for us--that _she'll_ do everything!"
"Yes, but she isn't. However, she's as good!" Lady Agnes exulted.
"She'll turn me out of the house," said Nick.
"Come and tell me when she does! But there she is--go to her!" And she gave him a push toward one of the windows that stood open to the terrace. Their hostess had become visible outside; she passed slowly along the terrace with her long shadow. "Go to her," his mother repeated--"she's waiting for you."