"Unjust, and--almost morbid. I wouldn't have thought you would be like that, though perhaps one can't blame him so much, if he's had bad experiences. I am sorry for him. It must be miserable to fancy always that people care for you for your money."
"I'm sorry for him, too. At least, I used to be--whenever I thought of him."
"Aren't you now?"
"No. I believe he's a changed man. He's found that there are exceptions to the gloomy rule he'd laid down for humanity."
"Oh, then he's happier."
"So far as I understand the case, he isn't exactly happy yet. He isn't out of the woods. In fact, he's in the thickest part. But he sees blue sky and the sun shining overhead."
"What do you mean?"
"A fellow who knows him very well told me that Harborough had fallen in love with a beautiful girl who was so unworldly that she might be induced to marry for love--if she cared."
"Then why isn't he happy?"
"Because he doesn't know whether she can ever care for him--except as a friend. He's sure she likes him pretty well, but there's nothing in that. I'm mighty ignorant about such things myself, but they say if a girl doesn't mind showing that she's your friend, and values you in a way, it's a sign she's a thousand miles off from falling in love with you. What's your opinion on the subject--as you seem to be rather interested in Harborough?"