“That was my intention,” replied Carmen; “now we can read together. I'm taking Spanish lessons of Count Crispo. I've learned two Spanish poems and a Castilian dance.”
“Is he married?”
“Not now. He told me, when he was teaching me the steps, that his heart was buried in Seville.”
“He seems to be full of sentiment.”
“Perhaps that is because his salary is so small. Mamma says, of all things an impecunious count! But he is amusing.”
“But what do you care for money?” asked Margaret, by way of testing Carmen's motives.
“Nothing, my dear. But deliver me from a husband who is poor; he would certainly be a tyrant. Besides, if I ever marry, it will be with an American.”
“But suppose you fall in love with a poor man?”
“That would be against my principles. Never fall below your ideals—that is what I heard a speaker say at the Town and Country Club, and that is my notion. There is no safety for you if you lose your principles.”
“That depends upon what they are,” said Margaret, in the same bantering tone.