‘I did not say much; but enough to induce her to yield to a strong entreaty, as when, for instance, you implored her to spare your brother—that poor fellow about to fall so hopelessly in love—’
‘I’m not sure that my request did not come too late after all,’ said she, with a laughing malice in her eye.
‘Don’t be too sure of that,’ retorted he, almost fiercely.
‘Oh, I never bargained for what you might do in a moment of passion or resentment.’
‘There is neither one nor the other here. I am perfectly cool, calm, and collected, and I tell you this, that whoever your pretty Greek friend is to make a fool of, it shall not be Dick Kearney.’
‘It might be very nice fooling, all the same, Dick.’
‘I know—that is, I believe I know—what you mean. You have listened to some of those high heroics she ascends to in showing what the exaltation of a great passion can make of any man who has a breast capable of the emotion, and you want to see the experiment tried in its least favourable conditions—on a cold, soulless, selfish fellow of my own order; but, take my word for it, Kate, it would prove a sheer loss of time to us both. Whatever she might make of me, it would not be a hero; and whatever I should strive for, it would not be her love.’
‘I don’t think I’d say that if I were a man.’
He made no answer to these words, but arose and walked the room with hasty steps. ‘It was not about these things I came here to talk to you, Kitty,’ said he earnestly. ‘I had my head full of other things, and now I cannot remember them. Only one occurs to me. Have you got any money? I mean a mere trifle—enough to pay my fare to town?’
‘To be sure I have that much, Dick; but you are surely not going to leave us?’