"We aren't all made the same," said Mr. Hurst, feebly.
"No, we're not," said Mr. Mott. "I'm not blaming you; in a way, I'm sorry for you. If you're not born with a high spirit, nothing'll give it to you."
"It might be learnt," said Mr. Hurst. Mr. Mott laughed.
"High spirits are born, not made," he said. "The best thing you can do is to go and find another girl, and marry her before she finds you out."
Mr. Hurst shook his head.
"There's no other girl for me," he said, miserably. "And everything seemed to be going so well. We've been buying things for the house for the last six months, and I've just got a good rise in my screw."
"It'll do for another girl," said Mr. Mott, briskly. "Now, you get off back to town. You are worrying Florrie by staying here, and you are doing no good to anybody. Good-bye."
"I'll walk back as far as the door with you," said Mr. Hurst. "You've done me good. It's a pity I didn't meet you before."
"Remember what I've told you, and you'll do well yet," he said, patting the young man on the arm.
"I will," said Mr. Hurst, and walked on by his side, deep in thought.