to maintain, and expect their wives to
lend a hand. They can't afford a love marriage, and I'm proud in my own
little way. I shouldn't like to turn out a disappointment."

"There are some men who are old-fashioned enough to prefer to provide
for their own wives, who would dread the fortune even more heartily than
others do the lack of it."

"There are. I realise that. Bless their dear hearts! But _not_ the
majority! There's an heir to a Dukedom hovering round now, Martin; not
compromising himself, you understand, but by steady attention to
business laying the foundation of a claim. If the old Buddy died and
left me her heir, he'd tell me that he had forborne to _intrude_, had
valiantly subdued his impatience, etc., etc., I never want the money
quite so badly as when I imagine that interview! I'm not spiteful as a
rule, but I shall think fate treats me hardly if I never have a chance
of scorching that young man... Well! we'll see--!"

"You want then,--you will be disappointed if you don't get the money?"

She turned her eyes full upon him, distended in the widest of stares.

"Well, I should just _farther_ think I _should_! T-errifically
disappointed! Squelched. Flum-macked. Laid out flat. For the hour,
that is. I couldn't go on being worried, for all the fortunes on earth.
It will be a case of adapting myself to a new sort of happiness--_c'est
tout_! That's easily done."

The joy of the lover, the keen, appraising interest of the artist, were
both eloquent in Martin's glance as he considered her eloquent face.

"Yes! One cannot imagine Grizel less than happy and content. And yet
to an ordinary nature, your life during these last years, for all its
luxuries, would have seemed a poor thing. You have made your happiness
by managing to love a very unlovable character. It's a big feat,
Grizel; a very big feat!"

Grizel rubbed her nose, a slow, thoughtful rub with a raised forefinger.
The homely movement seemed ridiculously out of character with the
ethereal form and the transparent hand, on which the firelight woke the
gleam of flawless diamonds.

"Can a `feat' be something for which you have never tried? I never
_try_ to love any one. Either I love 'em, or--I don't bother!
Disliking, hating,--it's too much trouble! I wipe 'em out... Same way
with things; therefore, as a logical conclusion nothing remains but what
I _do_ like. Therefore,--logical inference again!--one must be happy,
because