'Common sense! It is not common sense I want! It is love!'
'If you doubt my affection—' said Alda, with dignity, drawing back.
'No! no! no! I never was so profane. Only it drives me frantic to hear you so coolly willing to keep us apart for—'
'Because my affection is less selfish and narrow than yours,' said Alda, raising her voice as his became like a roll of distant thunder. 'I tell you, I will not be the means of binding you to a petty provincial paper, that may give an immediate pittance, but will lead to nothing. Would that be love worth having? I appeal to Felix, his scheme though it was.'
Felix was a very uncomfortable third party, especially as Alda's appeal implied a certain accusation of himself. 'I own,' he said, 'that this situation is not likely to lead to promotion, but it would be competence. Ferdinand would be satisfied, but you—'
'I, who know what he is used to, cannot be satisfied for him.'
'As if you—' gasped the lover; but Alda would not let him go on.
'No,' she said, 'we must be patient. For him to remain in the Life-guards would be madness; but a few years at Mr. Brown's, with the interest he already has in the business, will open a career to him.'
'And I can run down every Sunday,' said Ferdinand. 'It is her determination; I suppose she is right, Felix, but I wish— If I could wish her otherwise, she should be less prudent!'
'I cannot see that she has any right to ask it of you,' indignantly exclaimed Felix.