‘Yes, I suppose so. He looks—he has an original-looking face. Is he clever?’
‘Yes, he is very clever. He has a career before him—at least——’
‘At least?’
‘I believe I was going to say he would have, if he were not engaged to Ada Dixon; but I don’t see that she need hinder him so much, after all.’
‘I do not know Mr. Camm, of course; but I should not imagine she was his equal, if he is really a clever and able man.’
‘I fear you are right. But Roger has crotchets, and one of them is, that he is a working man. In a way, he is, as we all are, or ought to be; but his father was a clergyman of the Church of England. He is never going to be anything else, according to his own theory; and working men, from what he says, must marry in their own sphere, or else they will always be in a false position, and “getting into lumber,” as he calls it.’
‘Well, there may be a good deal in that; but from what I saw of Miss Dixon that afternoon, I should think she was the last person to be a suitable wife for a real working man. She seemed to feel herself quite outside anything of that kind.’
‘Of course. She is outside anything of that kind, practically. But Roger wants to marry her, and, of course, theories are elastic, under certain circumstances. I suppose he was going out to Balder Hall now, to fetch her home.’
‘Yes,’ said Eleanor, and they did not pursue the topic. They were now very near Thorsgarth; a few minutes more brought them to its gates, and as they rode up the avenue, Eleanor suddenly said, in an extinguished voice—
‘How tired I am! I never was so tired in my life before.’