The news of the approaching marriage of the penniless young missionary to the great heiress, Miss Arnot, spread rapidly and evoked much comment, candid, caustic, congratulatory, from Jean's friends and otherwise.
"Clever man, that young sky-pilot!"
"Absolutely thrown herself away, my dear, and actually going to live among naked savages!"
"Trust the missionary to feather his own nest. Why should he lose sight of No. 1 while saving brother man?"
"The missionary man has done himself well. Poor rich Miss Arnot!"
"Oh, well, you know, she's twenty-seven if she's a day, and when a girl gets to twenty-seven——! And they say he's exceedingly good-looking. Still, don't you know——"
These behind her back. And to her face:
"He's simply charming, dear. I envy you—I do indeed!
"He's a splendid fellow, Miss Arnot. You will be very happy together."
"My dear,"—this from a very old lady, bearing a very old title, whose early married life had been a hideous martyrdom—"you have chosen very wisely. He is a noble Christian gentleman, and he would lay down his life for you. Believe me, dear, compared with what you have got, all the wealth of the world and all its titles are nothing but dust and ashes and misery. I know it!"