“Betty—you—you are so handsome—and so clever and strange,” she fluttered. “Oh, Betty, stand up so that I can see how tall and handsome you are!”
Betty did as she was told, and upon her feet she was a young woman of long lines, and fine curves so inspiring to behold that Lady Anstruthers clasped her hands together on her knees in an excited gesture.
“Oh, yes! Oh, yes!” she cried. “You are just as wonderful as you looked when I turned and saw you under the trees. You almost make me afraid.”
“Because I am wonderful?” said Betty. “Then I will not be wonderful any more.”
“It is not because I think you wonderful, but because other people will. Would you rebuild a great house?” hesitatingly.
The fine line of Betty's black brows drew itself slightly together.
“No,” she said.
“Wouldn't you?”
“How could the man who owned it persuade me that he was in earnest if he said he loved me? How could I persuade him that I was worth caring for and not a mere ambitious fool? There would be too much against us.”
“Against you?” repeated Lady Anstruthers.