"By Jove!" exclaimed Loveland. "What a lucky beggar!"
"That just expresses it—a 'lucky beggar'—for he was almost a beggar at the time he made his first success. He was dependent on his relations when a child, for his father and mother died when he was a baby, leaving him not a penny, and he was brought up with the idea of being a school teacher, which he would have hated."
"Success like that often spoils people," said Val, frankly ungracious in his jealousy.
"I don't think it's spoiled Sidney," replied the girl. "He has heaps of faults, but I shouldn't call him conceited or vain."
"Shall you be married soon?"
Lesley smiled, and her dimples twinkled. "It isn't decided yet. But I daresay it will be soon. Now, I suppose with the grand ideas you used to talk to me about, twelve or fifteen thousand pounds a year, and a few loose thousands lying around would seem like shabby genteel poverty to you."
"Don't hit a man when he's down," said Loveland. "If I had only half as much as Mr. Cremer, I could do the things I want most to do."
"What are they?" asked Lesley. For it was still some distance to the stable which was also, for the present, garage as well, and she walked slowly on the moist grass, picking her way, step by step, with leisurely daintiness.
"Nowadays, the things I feel I should like most to do are to restore our poor old tumbled-down home, and get rid of my debts."
"You say 'nowadays.' Have you changed your mind lately?"