"She is a pretty little thing," he said, slightingly, "and no doubt a good little thing. And, Trelawney, if I were in your place I wouldn't hang around her. Your feelings might become involved—she is so pretty—and she might fall in love with you, and"—
"You've said enough!" exclaimed Trelawney, fiercely.
It was monstrous! Trelawney would marry her. And he was as helpless to prevent it as if Fred intended to hang himself.
"Your railing at the women of society in that shallow fashion suggests the idea to me that you are trying to justify yourself in some tremendous folly. Do you contemplate marrying her?"
"That is exactly what I propose to do," said Trelawney.
"And you are mad enough to think you are really in love with her?"
"Why should I not be? If she were differently placed in point of wealth and station would there be any incongruity? I don't want to say anything hard of you, Cleaver, but you would be ready to congratulate me."
"I admit," retorted Cleaver, sharply, "that if she were your equal in station and appropriately educated I should not have a word of objection to say."
"And after all, is it the accident of position and fortune, or the human creature, that a man takes to his heart?"
"But her ignorance, Fred"—