“That’s too late.” But I saw her face relent at what she heard. “I have other plans. And you should have told her what you have told me.”
“Ah, have I not?” But then I suddenly remembered that, by some reversal of my logical mind, here I was, making love to Auntie Lucinda, whom I did not love, whereas in the past I had spent much time in mere arguing with Helena, whom I did love.
“I’m not sure that I’ve ever made it plain enough to her, that’s true,” said I slowly. “But if she gives me the chance, I’ll spend all my life telling her that very thing. That, since you ask me, is why we all are here—so that I may tell Helena, and you, and all the world, that very thing. I love her, very much.”
“But suppose she does not love you?” demanded Mrs. Daniver. “I’ll say frankly, I’ve advised her against you all along. She ought to marry a man of some station in the world.”
“With money?”
“You put it baldly, but—yes.”
“Would that be enough—money?” I asked.
“No. That is not fair——”
“—Only honor between us now.”
“It would go for to-day. Because, after all, money means power, and all of us worship power, you know—success.”