Harry reflected. Here was one of the nice subtleties of the feminine mind which somehow he must satisfy.
"It was after I had driven out once or twice from Ludsey to see you. That is as near as I can put it. It was after I had got to know you a little."
"As soon, in a word, as you concluded that I would suit the place." Though the sentence was phrased still in the ironical form, the irony had suddenly gone from her voice. She was so relieved that a smile trembled about her lips. Her next words gave the reason of her relief.
"So really and truly you want me personally--as well."
The question would have sounded vague to a stranger, but these two understood that it was her fortune which she omitted to name. Cynthia knew, as she could not but know, that her wealth had first set his thoughts running toward her. But it was some personal quality which in the end had decided him to ask for her. He must have money--yes, but other help than money as well. It was a satisfaction to her pride that he found it in her.
"Yes," he returned. "A wife can do so much for a man in politics if she is the right wife. I should be very glad if you would marry me," Rames resumed. "I think that we should get along together very well, and together we might do important things."
"Be important things," Cynthia corrected.
Harry Rames smiled.
"That's an old quarrel of ours, Cynthia. I mean 'do' this time."
Cynthia looked at him quickly. She was in the mood to find in that hope the strongest of appeals.