"Jim, what do you mean? You are very hard-hearted."
"No, I'm not! I'm only practical. Your friend, Miss Campion, has been a source of lamentation and woe to you ever since I made your acquaintance. According to you, she was always being sacrificed to that intolerable prig of a brother of hers. Then she was immolated on the altar of her father's money difficulties and her mother's ill-health. Now she has got a fair field, and can live where she likes and exercise her talents as she pleases; and as I can be as unfeeling as I like in the bosom of my family, I will at once acknowledge that I am very glad the old man's gone."
"I do hope and trust, Jim——"
"That I am not a born fool, my dear?"
"—That you won't say these things to Lettice herself."
"Exactly. That is what I knew you were going to say."
"If it weren't that I am certain you do not mean half you say——"
"I mean all that I say: every word of it. But I'll tell you what, Clara: I believe that Lettice Campion is a woman of great talent—possibly even of genius—and that she has never yet been able to give her talents full play. She has the chance now, and I hope she'll use it."
"Oh, Jim, dear, do you think she is so sure to succeed?"
"If she doesn't, it will be pure cussedness on her part, and nothing else," said Jim.