John's eyes twinkled. "For my part, I am thankful to fate, which caused me to fall in love with a woman only ten years my junior, instead of with a girl young enough to be my daughter. I have gained a companion as well as a wife; and marvellously adaptive as young women are, I am conceited enough to think my ideas have travelled beyond the ideas of most girls of eighteen; and I am not conceited enough to suppose the girl of eighteen would not find me an old fogey very much in the way. Let boys mate with girls, say I, and men with women."
Lady Mary smiled in spite of herself. "You know, John, you would argue entirely the other way round if you happened to be in love with—Sarah," she said.
"To be sure," said John; "it's my trade to argue for the side which retains my services. I am your servant, thank Heaven, and not Sarah's. And I have no intention of quitting your service," he added, more gravely. "We have settled the question of the future."
"The empty future that suddenly grew so bright," said Lady Mary, dreamily. "Do you remember how you talked of—Italy?"
"Where we shall yet spend our honeymoon," said John. "But I believe you liked better to hear of my shabby rooms in London which you meant to share."
"Of course," she said simply. "I knew I should bring you so little money."
"And you thought barristers always lived from hand to mouth, and made no allowance for my having got on in my profession."
"Ah! what did it matter?"
"I think you will find it makes just a little difference," John said, smiling.
"Outside circumstances make less difference to women than men suppose," said Lady Mary. "They are, oh, so willing to be pampered in luxury; and, oh, so willing to fly to the other extreme, and do without things."