“And besides, I couldn’t be so mean to Aunt Emily. She would hate it—and she’d have a right to. No, Claude, I’m not willing to marry you on so short an acquaintance. A year from now—or possibly six months—I don’t know.”
The man stopped paddling and regarded her helplessly.
“It’s because I’ve told you I’m only a poor man,” he said, thinking immediately that money had something to do with her refusal. “And you’re an heiress!”
Linda opened her eyes wide in amazement.
“What makes you think I’m an heiress, Lord Dudley?” she asked, forgetting to use his first name. “Really—we’re not rich.”
“But the newspapers said you were. And that big prize you won, flying the Atlantic alone——”
The man’s surprise was evidently as great as Linda’s.
“Yes, I have that—invested in bonds. But $25,000 isn’t a fortune. And I haven’t anything else, except the money I sold my Bellanca for, which Daddy put into a trust fund for me, in case his business fails. No, Lord Dudley, I really expect to earn my own living.”
“I see,” he replied, and he could not keep the bitter disappointment out of his tone. “That is why we had better not risk it?”
He seemed content to leave it at that, and Linda was silent. As a matter of fact, money had never entered into her consideration of the marriage. The idea of leaving her aunt, her friends—especially Harry and Dot, and even Ralph—to go to a strange country had been a much more vital drawback. Charming as he was, Lord Dudley was only a stranger.