Mary assented warmly enough, and yet at the same time she was conscious of just a tinge of passing jealousy at the high praise of her friend. Ralph had told her all along that he loved her, that there was no other girl in the world for him. Had her coldness killed that love? Then she told herself that it did not matter, seeing that the affection was not returned in the way that Ralph meant. All the same, she could not rid herself of the impression that such a thing would take all the light out of her life, and leave her alone and desolate indeed.
"Connie thinks very highly of you," she said shyly.
"That is very good of her," Ralph replied with something like a sigh, "but we are too good friends ever to care for each other in any other way. Still, she is doing you good, Mary. There is something about you that I can't describe, some subtle change for the better. I never noticed till now that you had such a sweet and tender smile and there is a thrill in your voice that makes you pure and womanly. My experiment has been a success."
"What experiment is that?" Mary asked innocently.
"What am I saying?" Ralph laughed. "I have a confession to make later, but it is not the time to go into that. It is good to be by your side again, listening to your voice. Now, tell me all that you are doing."
Mary did not need to be asked. She fairly bubbled over with delight. The deep thrill that Ralph had noticed in her voice touched him and caused a chord to throb in response. It seemed almost impossible to believe that this was the Mary of the old days, the proud, distant creature whose head was in the clouds contemplating the glory of the family. She was tender and warm and confiding, and the flush on her face gave the one thing needed to make her fair and radiant beauty complete. This was the girl that Ralph loved, the woman of his fondest dreams. He felt as if he could walk by her side for ever.
"But you will think me conceited," she said presently; "I have talked of nothing but myself for half an hour or more. Please do not laugh at me."
"Certainly not," Ralph said indignantly. "I have no intention of laughing at you, Mary. It is a positive joy to me to hear you talking like this! And so there are better, truer things than the Dashwood pride and the family pedigree. You have seen what noble womanhood can do for itself, what a dignified thing honest labour is. Do you remember what I said to you the night that you came to London, Mary?"
"I recollect," Mary whispered softly. "You prophesied for me. You said that I should be better and purer for the sacrifice. You said that I should see life as it is, and learn what a poor thing the family glory was by the side of humanity. And I have learned the lesson, Ralph, I am quite content now to work for my living; I am trying to forget Dashwood and all its glories. Why, I have even become accustomed to London bread and butter."
The girl burst into a merry laugh in which Ralph joined from pure sympathy. Here was the model wife for which he had been looking.