al, _true_ difference, I
mean, when it comes to the heart of things. Oh, I've been thinking of
such matters a great deal lately. I suppose because I'm among
Americans. It must be that which has put the subject so much in my
head."

"Tell me what you have been thinking."

"Oh, I can hardly tell. But for one thing, I've begun to see that a
man--a man like you, for instance, Mr. Brett--oughtn't to call himself
unlucky because he's poor, and has perhaps not been able to have as
many advantages as richer men. He ought simply to feel that he has it
in him to make himself equal in every way with the highest."

"You mean, he can 'hustle,' as the saying is with us, and get rich, so
as to stand on an equality with millionaires?"

"No, it wasn't money I was thinking about. I've met a good many
millionaires since I've been here, but I've seen none whom you need
look upon as your superior. What I mean is that you've only to be
ambitious enough, and not _feel_ that you're handicapped by your start,
to attain to what you want in life--yes, whatever it may be."

"You mean all this, Lady Betty?" he asked quickly. "You have as much
faith as that in me?"

"Yes," I answered; and the stars and the sea seemed to sing with my
thoughts. I felt uplifted, somehow. It was a wonderful sensation, which
it would be impossible to describe. But I had an exciting impression
that Jim Brett shared it. The music of the Hungarian band flowed out
from the house, and beat in my blood. His voice sounded as if it beat
in his, too.

"You can't dream what my ambitions are, or maybe you wouldn't say
that."

"I'm sure they would only be noble ones."

"It's true; they are noble. Yet you might not approve. But they're part
of my life. I couldn't give them up now, and live."

"I should like to hear about them," I said, almost more to myself than
to him.

"Some day, if we meet again--and I mean we shall, since you have called
me friend--perhaps you will let me tell you about them. I shall ask you
to listen. But not now. I daren't now. The time hasn't come. Only
promise me this, Lady Betty; that you won't forget me; that you'll
think of me kindly, sometimes."

"I do think of you very often," I said, "and talk about you to Vivace.
Poor little Vivace. _He_ doesn't forget. How he did whimper when I had
to drag him away from you that day in the wistaria arbour at Central
Park. _This_ isn't unlike that arbour, is it? There's wistaria here
too. I believe I s