"Well, what would you risk for some one you loved—say, your father?"
"All things—my life."
"There are some people who would rather risk their life than their pride, their family name, or their money. Supposing a man loved a woman very much, and she professed to return his love, but was not willing to share his meager fortunes with him; could not sacrifice splendor and the passion for admiration, for his sake—what would you think of her?"
"That she did not love him."
"But you do not know, little Alice; you have never been tempted; and you know nothing of the strength of fashion in the world, of the influence of public opinion, of the pride of appearances."
"I have guessed it," she answered, sadly.
He thought there was a shadow of reproach in those pure eyes, as if she would have added, that she had been made to feel it, too.
"I loved a woman once," he continued; "loved her so rashly that I would have let her set her perfect foot upon my neck and press my life out. She knew how I adored her, and she told me she returned my passion. But she would not resign any of her rank and influence for my sake."
"Was her name Virginia?"
"It was; how did you know?"