"It's a pity he can't make a little more money," he added.
"But I don't need a large income to be happy, father."
"Eh?" said Mr. Walkingshaw.
This was going rather too fast; yet when he looked into her shining eyes, he found it really very difficult to keep severe.
"Money is a very important thing, my dear," he replied.
"It's not nearly so important as love! Surely, father, it's far, far better that two people should be very, very fond of each other than have plenty of money! You do agree with that, don't you?"
It was at this moment that there came to the little advocate-for-love's assistance a recollection of the sympathetic widow. In his mind's eye Mr. Walkingshaw suddenly saw a vision of her black eyes vivaciously beaming, and for some reason this enabled him to regard Jean's point of view in a wholly new and original light.
"Well," said he, "I'm not sure that there isn't something in what you say. I do believe you're right, my dear—in fact, I'm positive you're right. The love for a fine woman—well, it's a first-rate sensation—most refreshing."
"For a woman?" asked Jean, a little surprised. "But we were talking about a man."
There was no mirror available, but Mr. Walkingshaw had a strong suspicion that he must be blushing.