George smiled. "No. She is a lady."
"I thought so," was the remark of Miss Diana, delivered in very knowing tones. "I can tell you and your wife, George, that it will be uphill work for both of you."
"For a time; I know that. But, Miss Diana, ease, when it comes, will be all the more enjoyable for having been worked for. I often think the prosperity of those who have honestly earned it must be far sweeter than the monotonous abundance of those who are born rich."
"True. The worst is, that sometimes the best years of life are over before prosperity comes."
"But those years have had their pleasure, in working on for it. I question whether actual prosperity ever brings the pleasure we enjoy in anticipation. If we had no end to work for, we should not be happy. Will you say a word for me, Miss Diana?"
"First of all, tell me the name of the lady. I suppose you have no objection—you may trust me."
George's lips parted with a smile, and a faint flush stole over his features. "I shall have to tell you before I win her, if only to obtain your consent to taking her from the Hold."
"My consent! I have nothing to do with it. You must get that from Mr. and Madam Chattaway."
"If I have yours, I am not sure that I should care to ask—his."
"Of whom do you speak?" she rejoined, looking puzzled.