Hetty's hand closed almost sharply on his arm. "No," she said, "I don't mean that. You see, I was really glad to get away from the boarding house."
"You assured me you liked it once," said Ingleby.
"Well, perhaps I did, but we needn't go into that. I was thinking of you just now."
Ingleby would not pretend to misunderstand her. He felt it would probably be useless, for Hetty, he knew, could be persistent.
"Men get rich in this country now and then," he said. "It would, at least, be something to work and hope for."
He could not see Hetty's face, but he noticed that there was a faint suggestion of strain in her voice.
"Do you think she would ever be happy with you even if you found a gold mine?" she said.
"What do you mean, Hetty?" and Ingleby turned towards her suddenly with a flush in his face.
"I only want to save you trouble. Don't you think when a girl of that kind found out how much there was that she had been accustomed to think necessary and that you knew nothing about, she might remember the difference between herself and you. After all, it's not always the most important points that count with a girl, you know."
She stopped somewhat abruptly, but Ingleby made a little gesture. "I would rather you would go on and say all you mean to."