"Humph!" said Hardwick meditatively. "The question is, 'Would Don Pablo marry you?' my dear girl."
"He is supposed to be in love with me," said Alice, puzzled. "You know how he has bothered me, Julian."
"Oh, yes, I know. But there is Rose Penwin, you know, that fisherman's pretty daughter."
Alice turned to look at him in astonishment. "What about her?"
"Señor Narvaez has taken an unaccountable admiration for her since you departed for London."
"Unaccountable!" Miss Enistor's lip curled. "There is nothing unaccountable in any man admiring a pretty girl, and Rose is more than pretty!"
"She is," said Hardwick calmly. "Pretty is not the word to apply to a beautiful and stately woman such as Rose Penwin is."
"Brunhild or Brynhild—what do you call that Norse goddess you said you so admired until you met me?"
"I never admired any Norse goddess," said Hardwick, laughing. "I simply quoted Brynhild as a type. Yes, Rose Penwin is of that type, but I am not in love with her."