"Well, anything of that sort, in comparison with art—and making a career—and earning money—and things of that kind. Oh, I daresay I'm a stupid ass!—"
Lady Tatham laughed softly.
"You can buy all her pictures, Harry."
"I don't believe she'd like it a bit, if she knew!" he said, gloomily.
The young man's chagrin and bewilderment were evident. His mother could only guess at the causes.
"How long have you known her, Harry?"
"Just two months."
Lady Tatham took him again by the shoulders, and looked into his face.
"Why didn't you tell me before? Do you want her?" she asked slowly.
"Yes—but I shall never get her," was the half desperate reply.