“In love?” he repeated. “Why, you’re only a kid.”
“That’s what I thought,” she answered, “up to a month ago.”
“Who is it?” he asked.
“A young local solicitor,” she answered, “the son of a blacksmith. They say his mother used to go out charring. But that may be only servants’ gossip.”
“Good God,” he exclaimed. “Are you mad?”
She laughed. “I thought I would tell you the worst about him first,” she said, “and so get it over. Against all that, is the fact that he’s something quite out of the common. He’s the type from which the world’s conquerors are drawn. Napoleon was only the son of a provincial attorney. He’s the most talked about man in Millsborough already; and everything he puts his hand to succeeds. He’s pretty sure to end as a millionaire with a seat in the House of Lords. Not that I’m marrying him for that. I’m only telling you that to make it easier for you to help me. I’d love him just the same if he were a cripple on a pound a week. I’d go out charring, if need be, like his mother did. It’s no good reasoning with me, Jim,” she added after a pause. “When did a man or woman of our blood ever put reason above love? It’s part of our inheritance. Your time will come one day; and then you will understand, if you don’t now.”
She had risen. She came behind him and put her arms about his neck.
“We’ve always stood by each other, Jim,” she said. “Be a chum.”
“What’s he like?” he growled.
She laughed. “Oh, you needn’t worry about that,” she said. “There he is. Look at him.”