'—ations—ations—ations,' she sung. 'Never before, George, have I understood the loveliness and the power of money. They were given to Mr. Dering by an anonymous person to be held for me—secretly. No one knows—not even, yet, my mother.'
'Oh! It is altogether too much—too much: once there was a poor but loving couple, and Fortune turned her wheel, and—— You don't know—you most unsuspecting ignorant Thing—you can't guess— Oh, Elsie, I am a partner—Mr. Dering's partner!
They caught hands again—then they let go—then they sat down, and gazed upon each other.
'Elsie,' said George.
'George,' said Elsie.
'We can now marry like everybody else—but much better. We shall have furniture now.'
'All the furniture we shall want, and a house where we please. No contriving now—no pinching.'
'No self-denying for each other, my dear.'
'That's a pity, isn't it?—But, George, don't repine. The advantages may counterbalance the drawbacks. I think I see the cottage where we were going to live. It is in Islington: or near it—Barnsbury, perhaps: there is a little garden in front, and one at the back. There is always washing hung out to dry. I don't like the smell of suds. For dinner, one has cold Australian tinned meat for economy, not for choice. The rooms are very small, and the furniture is shabby, because it was cheap and bad to begin with. And when you come home—oh, George!'—she stuck her forefinger in her chalk, and drew two or three lines on his face—'you look like that, so discontented, so grumpy, so gloomy. Oh, my dear, the advantages—they do so greatly outbalance the drawbacks; and George—you will love your wife all the more—I am sure you will—because she can always dress properly and look nice, and give you a dinner that will help to rest you from the work of the day.'
Once more this foolish couple fell into each other's arms and kissed again with tears and smiles and laughter.