“Haven’t I told you,” protested he, “that I don’t despise anybody? Why should I think people despicable because they are different?”
“You’d despise my sister Rhoda, who married the Earl of Broadstairs for his title.”
“Not at all. I approve of her for taking what she wanted. Why should she have been a hypocrite and married for love when she didn’t want love, but splurge?”
“Do you know why I was so anxious to have you come here?”
“How you do jump about!” laughed he. “Well—why? To smooth down——”
“No,” she interrupted, coloring furiously. “I must be truthful with you. I wanted it because I thought you’d be impressed.”
“And I am,” he assured her, a friendly smile of raillery in his eyes. “I had no idea you were such a grand person.”
“Don’t jeer at me,” she pleaded. “I’m in earnest. It isn’t fair to mock at anyone who’s in earnest—is it?”
“No. It’s contemptible,” said he. “But I understand you better than you understand yourself.”
In defiance of conventionality she looked at him with eyes whose meaning no observer could have mistaken. He glanced hastily round. “Don’t do silly, sensational things,” said he. “You’re making us both ridiculous.”