I. A. R. Wylie

“ It was thus that Fenton found her ten minutes later. He crossed quietly to her side and laid his hand on her shoulder.
“The doctor has just been,” he said in his matter-of-fact way. “There's no immediate danger—indeed, no danger at all as far as life is concerned. But your father has had a bad shock, Eileen, and it may be some time before his mind recovers its balance.” ”

“ It's too late to-night to go into things, Eileen, and I don't want to worry you more than is necessary, but you'll see for yourself that's going to make a great difference to us. We're up to our neck in debt, dear, and if the aëroplane doesn't come off, I shall just have to throw up my career and start—something that pays.”
She heard the jar in his voice, but she did not interpret it or try to. She was thinking of all the things that were lost—the pleasures, the dresses, her position as Sir Richard Sinclair's daughter and the wife of a “coming man.” ”

“ Surely it's for Fenton——”
“I can't ask Fenton. He's so stern—so reticent. I believe he thinks of nothing but the one thing. I'm only just a plaything to be pushed aside when it's inconvenient. But you—you're different. Don't leave me in suspense, Oscar.”
“It's money!” he said slowly. “I don't know the details, but it seems Sir Richard has been speculating—heavily. A mine in which he was interested has closed down. I suppose it means a good deal to him.”
“Father never bothered about money. ”

“ It's the wretched aëroplane—everything has been sacrificed for that.” There were tears in her eyes and in her voice. She turned away, fighting for self-control. “And I have been sacrificed with the rest!” she finished bitterly.
“Eileen!” he said under his breath. Then with what seemed a last effort: “We mustn't judge,” he said jerkily. “We don't know anything yet. He may have done it for the best. Just because we know—and love Fenton, we must wait and hear his side. And even then—we've got to stand by him—loyally.” ”