"Oh, poor Mr. Jardine," she cried. "To be jealous of poor Mr. Jardine!"
"Then, why—why—?" he asked impatiently.
"Can't you see that there would be no happiness for us together? We are of different worlds. I couldn't endure to see you give up your standards—and yet I could not abide them. The distance between us would widen, not close. I have no instincts for the simple life, and you would have no interest in the artificial."
Once more the dark and dreary little farmhouse came within her mental range of vision.
"You would not know what I relinquished, nor I what you sigh for. You keep up your connection with your roving company for their benefit, and I honour you for your generosity—but I would prefer a more selfish man, with more regard for the sneer of the world."
"And you care for that—the sneer of the world?"
"The world would think I had quite thrown myself away."
"H-a-rdly—ha-a-rdly. The world noses out a little money mighty quick!"
"All your training, won with such pain and toil, is something I can't appreciate; tawdry and odious with a personal application, a stumbling-block and an offence to me; and all I have been taught and have striven for is beyond your ken."
"All I know is I love you; and all I care for is that you have said you love me!" he declared resolutely.