She smiled. "Of course I have."
"And I can't get my wife to see it," said the squire. "Just because—by his own idiotic choice—he occupies a humble position, she won't allow him a single decent quality. She classes them all together, when anyone can see—anyone with ordinary intelligence can see—that he is of a totally different standing from those brothers of his. He is on another plane altogether. It's self-evident. You see it at once."
"Yes," said Juliet.
He moved restlessly. "I would have placed him in his proper sphere if he'd consented to it. But he wouldn't. It's a standing grievance between us. That fellow Robin is a millstone round his neck. Miss Moore," he turned on her suddenly, "you have a wonderful knack of making people see reason. Couldn't you persuade him to let Robin go?"
"Oh no!" said Juliet quickly. "It's the very last thing I would attempt to do."
"Really!" He looked at her in genuine astonishment.
Juliet flushed. "But of course!" she said. "They belong to each other. How could Mr. Green possibly part with him? You wouldn't—surely—think much of him if he did?"
"I think he's mad not to," declared the squire. "But," he smiled at her,
"I think it's uncommonly kind of you to take that view, all the same.
I'll take you to that concert to-night if you really want to go."
"Will you? How kind!" said Juliet, turning to go. "But you won't mind if
I consult Mrs. Fielding first? I must do that."
He opened the door for her. "You are not to spoil her now," he said.
"She's been spoilt all her life by everybody."