“To such a position as—”
Here he stopped unsure.
“You mean to fame, and honor, and riches, don’t you, Walter?” ventured Molly.
“No—not riches. Did you ever hear of a poet and riches in the same breath?”
“Oh, yes, I have!—though somehow they don’t seem to go together comfortably. If a poet is rich, he ought to show he couldn’t help it.”
“Suppose he was made a lord, where would he then be without money?”
“If to be a lord one must be rich, he ought never to wish to be a lord. But you do not want to be either lord or millionaire, Walter, do you?”
“I hope I know better!”
“Where does the way you speak of lead then, Walter? To fame?”
“If it did, what would you have to say against it? Even Milton calls it ‘That last infirmity of noble mind!’”