“No, it is an extraordinary thing. I suppose that if I had any nerves I should faint. It would be an awful thing if I did; you’d have to get those porters to pick me up!” She smiled meditatively. “But I haven’t fainted, you see. And, after all, I don’t see why it should be so very dreadful, do you? You see, you’ve rather broken me in to the idea of lots of other people in your life, and I’ve always pitied her sincerely. I don’t see why I should stop pitying her because I’ve met her and taken such a fancy to her without knowing who she was. Do you?”
“Most women would,” observed Sir Adam. “It’s lucky that you and she happen to be the two best women in the world. I told Brook so this morning.”
“Brook? Have you told him?”
“I had to. He wants to marry her daughter.”
“Brook! It’s impossible!”
Lady Johnstone’s tone betrayed so much more surprise and displeasure than when her husband had told her of Mrs. Bowring’s identity that he stared at her in surprise.
“I don’t see why it’s impossible,” he said, “except that she has refused him once. That’s nothing. The first time doesn’t count.”
“He sha’n’t!” said the fat lady, whose vivid colour had come back. “He’ll make her miserable—just as you—no, I won’t say that! But they are not in the least suited to one another—he’s far too young; there are fifty reasons.”
“Brook won’t act as I did, my dear,” said Sir Adam. “He’s like you in that. He’ll make as good a husband as you have been a good wife—”