“I think so.”
“You know I am a poor man?”
“I know you said so.”
“Don’t you consider my position poverty? I thought every one over there had a contempt for an income that didn’t run into tens of thousands.”
“I told you, Alan, I had been unused to money, and so your income appears to me quite sufficient.”
“Then you are not afraid to trust in my future?”
“Not the least: I believe in you.”
“Oh, you dear girl. If you knew how sweet that sounds! Then I may tell you. When I was in London last I ran down to Dartmouth in Devonshire. I shall be stationed there. You see, I have finished my foreign cruising, and Dartmouth is, for a time at least, to be my home. There’s a fine harbor there, green hills and a beautiful river running between them, and I found such a lovely old house; not grand at all, you know, but so cosey and comfortable, standing on the heights overlooking the harbor, in an old garden filled with roses, shrubs, and every kind of flower; vines clambering about the ancient house. Two servants would keep it going like a shot. Dorothy, what do you say?”
Dorothy laughed quietly and whole heartedly.
“It reads like a bit from an old English romance. I’d just love to see such a house.”