Farron would at least understand the situation.
His mother approved of the suggestion.
"Of course he's not Mathilde's father." "He's not a snob." They had reached the house, and Pete was fishing in his pocket for his keys.
"Do you think Mr.Lanley is a snob ?" he asked.
As usual Mrs.Wayne evaded the direct answer.
"I got an unfavorable impression of him this afternoon." "For failing to see that I was a king among men ?" "For backing up every stupid thing his daughter said." "Loyalty is a fine quality." "Justice is better," answered his mother.
"Oh, well, he's old," said Wayne, dismissing the whole subject.
They walked up their four flights in silence, and then Wayne remembered to ask something that had been in his mind several times.
"By the way, Mother, how did you happen to come to the Farrons at all ?" She laughed rather self-consciously.
"I hoped perhaps Mr.Farron might be well enough to see me a moment about Marty.

The truth is, Pete, Mr.Farron is the real person in that whole family." That evening he wrote Farron a note, asking him to see him the next morning at half-past ten about "this trouble of which, of course, Mrs.Farron has told you." He added a request that he would tell Pringle of his intention in case he could give the interview, because Mrs.Farron had been quite frank in saying that she would give orders not to let him in.
Farron received this note with his breakfast.

Adelaide was not there.

He had had no hint from her of any crisis.

He had not come down to dinner the evening before to meet Mrs.Baxter and the useful people asked to entertain her, but he had seen Mathilde's tear-stained face, and in a few minutes with his father-in-law had encountered one or two evident evasions.