"I shall have my own way about it, you may depend, whatever that may chance to be," he answered with mock severity of tone.
Mildred laughed again, this time a really mirthful, happy laugh; feeling her heart grow strangely light.
After all she could not help being glad that Mrs. Dinsmore was not to know their comparative poverty; that she herself was not to be looked upon as a poor relation who might be snubbed at pleasure and perhaps twitted with her lack of means: or worse still, treated with lofty, or with pitying condescension.
"Yes," Mr. Dinsmore went on, half to himself, half to her, "wealth is but a secondary matter after all; family is the main thing. I believe in blood, and want nothing to do with your parvenu aristocracy, be they never so rich. Well what say you, my dear?" for Mildred's face had grown very thoughtful.
"I'm afraid I am naturally inclined to think just so, but—"
"Well, are not my views correct and proper?" he asked good humoredly, as she paused with a look of some confusion.
"Is not character what we should look at, rather than anything else?" she modestly inquired, "is not true nobility that of the heart and life? It is what father and mother have taught me, and I think, too, is most consistent with the teachings of God's word."
At that moment there was a sudden and large influx of passengers, some of them talking noisily, and her query remained unanswered.
