"You are quite right," he resumed, "and I am far from complaining of my fate. I have also full confidence in the future. But you, my darling; it is of you I am thinking."
"Of me?" exclaimed Dora. "But do I not share all your honours? What more can I wish for? Why, my dear boy," she added, laughing, "before ten years have passed you will be knighted, and I run the risk of being one day Lady Grantham. Just fancy?" And she drew herself up most comically.
They both burst out laughing. Philip was in a confessing mood, and he went on.
"I should like," he said, "to see you the mistress of such a house as you were brought up in!"
"Good heavens! It is all I can do to keep this dear little one properly! Besides, where is it now, that beautiful house where I was brought up? After my mother's death, my father took to speculating, and he died penniless. Everything had to be sold to pay his debts. Much better begin as we do than finish as he did."
"I should like," continued Philip, in the same strain, "to see you drive in a handsome carriage of your own."
"A hansom cab," replied Dora, laughing, "is much more convenient, goes faster, costs less, and gives you much less trouble."
"I should like to see rivières of diamonds on your lovely neck, precious stones on your fingers."
Dora looked serious, almost sad.
"I wish no better collar for my neck than your true, manly arms—my Philip! On my fingers? Do you see this little ring?"