“The Beck family has the cooking gene. “John, don’t!” she cried. “She will take her risk,” she answered. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. At breakfast both of them played their parts skillfully. But it’s love you should’ve had when you were tiny and I didn’t give it to you. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. CHAPTER XIV.
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