“Dora says he is connected with the English noble family of Stanhopes.”
“We shall certainly have all the connections of the English nobility in America very soon now—but why does he marry Dora? Is it her money?”
“I think not. I have heard from various sources some fine things of Basil Stanhope. There are many richer girls than Dora in St. Jude’s. I dare say some one of them would have married him.”
“You are mistaken. Do you think Margery Starey, Jane Lewes, or any of the girls of their order would marry a man with a few thousands a year? And to marry for love is beyond the frontiers of such women’s intelligence. In their creed a husband is a banker, not a man to be loved and cared for. You know how much of a banker Mr. Stanhope could be.”
“Bryce Denning is very angry at what he evidently considers his sister’s mesalliance.”
“If Mr. Stanhope is connected with the English Stanhopes, the mesalliance must be laid to his charge.”
“Indeed the Dennings have some pretenses to good lineage, and Bryce spoke of his sister ‘disgracing his family by her contemplated marriage.’”
“His family! My dear Ethel, his grandfather was a manufacturer of tin tacks. And now that we have got as far away as the Denning’s grandfather, suppose we drop the subject.”
“Content; I am a little tired of the clan Denning—that is their original name Dora says. I will go now and dress for dinner.”
Then Ruth rose and looked inquisitively around the room. It was as she wished it to be—the very expression of elegant comfort—warm and light, and holding the scent of roses: a place of deep, large chairs with no odds and ends to worry about, a room to lounge and chat in, and where the last touch of perfect home freedom was given by a big mastiff who, having heard the door-bell ring, strolled in to see who had called.