"If he loves her."
"Pooh, what has love to do with marriage? What old-fashioned ideas you have, Alice. I suppose you wouldn't marry Douglas if you didn't love him."
"Certainly not," said the girl firmly.
Mrs. Barrast made a grimace. "It's lucky you like him then, my dear. Of course it's not right to marry for money only," added the butterfly, contradicting herself boldly, "but when you meet a man with a banking account try and love him as hard as ever you can."
"I love Douglas for himself alone. If he was a pauper I should love him."
"I daresay you would. I'm sure there is madness in your family. It's a mercy Douglas is well off. Five thousand a year is very nice. Be sure you make him take a house near ours, dear, and get a smart motor-car with one of those nice chauffeurs who look like engineers but aren't. They're lots cleaner than engineers, aren't they? And do wear a blue dress, dear: blue suits you."
"No! no! I am still in mourning for my aunt."
"I'm sure you needn't be. I wouldn't mourn for a horrid, lean, old thing—she was lean, you know—who didn't leave me a penny."
"She left my father one thousand pounds, Amy."
"Just enough to make him hate her. I'm sure I would if I'd been treated in that nasty way. And do make Douglas take you out more. I'll come too as your chaperon, though perhaps I'm too young for the part."