"I hope you mean it. My voice is most important, you know. It would be very cruel if I were handicapped by having anything the matter with my voice. I shall have difficulties enough without!"
"I'm afraid," he said, "that I'm unfortunate. I wish I could have done something to further the ambitions your father mentioned."
She smiled again, rather wistfully this time.
"They seem very absurd to you, I daresay?"
He murmured deprecation: "Why?"
"The stage-struck girl is always absurd."
Recognising his own phrase, he perceived that he had been too faithfully reported, and was embarrassed.
"I spoke hastily. In the abstract the stage-struck girl may be absurd, but so is a premature opinion."
"Thank you," she said. "But why 'stage-struck,' anyhow? it's a term I hate. I suppose you wanted to be a barrister, Mr. Heriot?"
"I did," he confessed, "certainly. There are a great many, but I thought there was room for one more."