"That subject's name is Man. You have tried, I dare say, to measure Mark with a girl's rule of thumb, to weigh him in virgin's scales, but his dimensions remain an unknown quantity."
For answer, Betty kissed her.
"Tell me," she whispered, "all you know that I do not know."
"We should sit here for forty years! Our world says you ought to marry Harry, and our world is always more than half right. Harry has entertained you with a vast deal of talk about himself, and perhaps you think you know him. Ah! you nod your head with all the cocksureness of ignorance! You spoke of his giving up his hounds—for your sake, because you might find Kirtling a far cry from Bond Street. Oh, the conceit of the modern girl! My dear, Harry knew well enough that if you became his wife, no such sacrifice would be demanded. The hounds would remain at Kirtling—and so would you. If you were beautiful as Helen of Troy, and fascinating as Cleopatra, you could not root out that passion for hunting his own hounds. It is a master passion—and always will be so long as he can sit in the saddle. And in your heart of hearts you respect and like Harry the more because he does that one thing really well."
"I am sure you are right," said Betty humbly.
"Well, my dear, what hunting the fox is to Harry, so is the hunting of vice, and ignorance, and dirt to Mark Samphire. The masculine ardour of the chase possesses both, and each will hunt the country he knows best."
Betty's silence provoked her friend to say more. "You are in for a fight, child." She took Betty's hand, which seemed cold, and pressed it gently. "On your own confession you are unfit to be the wife of the man you love, and who loves you; and so—pray don't ask me for congratulations."
"You did not marry for love," cried Betty. Then she paused, ashamed. "Forgive me!"
"It is true." Lady Randolph turned a grim face to the girl, and her voice was harsh. "I did not marry for love. Shall we say that I lacked courage, or did I see clearer than you mountainous differences of temperament, taste, and opinion, which my love was not strong enough to scale? Was I a coward because I turned back? I do not say Yes or No. The man I loved had the brains, but not the body of a conqueror. Do you think that I was right or wrong because I refused to add burdens to a back already bowed?"
She spoke with such vehemence that Betty was frightened.