"He's a greater man than I knew," Sir John went on, after a pause. "He was strongly tempted to be even with me—he told me so—but the finer side of him conquered. Good heavens! if only Geoffrey were such a man, how proud I should be."
"Geoffrey has been trained in a different school."
"There may be something in that. Some natures expand under hard knocks, are toughened by battle and strife, greatened by suffering, and sweetened by sorrow."
She looked up into his face with a wondering smile.
"Ah, my Dorothy," he said, with a world of tenderness in his tones, "I have learned a great deal during the last few weeks. In the past I've been a fool, and worse. I've measured people by their social position. I've set value on filigree and embroidery. I've been proud of pedigree and name, and I've tried to put my heel upon people who were my superiors in every way. Good heavens! what vain fools we are in the main. We value the pinchbeck setting and kick the diamond into the gutter."
"Then you have finished with Mr. Penlogan now?" she questioned, after a long pause.
"Finished with him? Why so? I hope not, anyhow."
"But you have got all you want out of him."
"I never said so. No, no. We shall have to form a company to work the new lode, and he will be invaluable."
"And he will get nothing?"