"Come and—what?" His astonishment made him speak slowly.
She took a step or two up the stairway, leaning on the banister in a way to prevent his advancing. She was now looking down at him, instead of looking up.
"Isn't it true—?" she said, with hesitation—"at least I've rather guessed it—and I've gathered it from things Drusilla has said about you—You see," she began once more, "if we're to be friends you mustn't mind my speaking frankly and saying things that other people couldn't say. You've intervened so much in my life that I feel you've given me a right to—intervene—in yours."
"Oh, intervene as much as you like, Miss Guion," he said, honestly.
"Well, then, isn't it true that there are things you've wanted—wanted very much—and never had? If so—and I marry Colonel Ashley—"
"Hold on! Let's see what you mean by—things. If it's visiting round in high society—"
He tried to render as scorn his dismay at this touching on his weakness.
"I don't mean anything so crude. Visiting round in high society, as you call it, would at best be only the outward and visible sign of an inward—and, perhaps, spiritual—experience of the world. Isn't that what you've wanted? You see, if I do marry Colonel Ashley, I could—don't be offended!—I could open a door to you that you've never been able to force for yourself."
"You mean get me into society."
"You needn't be so disdainful. I didn't mean that—exactly. But there are people in the world different from those you meet in business—and in their way more interesting—certainly more picturesque. They'd like you if they knew you—and I had an idea that you—rather craved—After all, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's only making the world bigger for oneself, and—"