truest, most untarnished
soul in this world.
"I don't say," she went on, "that he is not just as the other young men of
his age and class; he is no Galahad, as no one can be with truth who is
human and lives in the world. And I dare say kind friends will tell you
stories of actresses and other diversions, but I who know him tell you,
you have won the best and greatest darling in London."
"Oh, I am sure of it," I said. "I don't know why he loves me so much, he
has seen me so little; but it began from the very first minute, I think,
with both of us. He is such a nice shape."
She laughed. Then she asked me if she was right in supposing all these
_contretemps_ we had had were the doing of Lady Ver. "You need not answer,
dear," she said. "I know Ianthe. She is in love with Robert herself; she
can't help it; she means no harm, but she often gets these attacks, and
they pass off. I think she is devoted to Sir Charles, really."
"Yes," I said.
"It is a queer world we live in, child," she continued, "and true love and
suitability of character are such a rare combination, but from what I can
judge, you and Robert possess them."
"Oh, how dear of you to say so!" I exclaimed.
"You don't think I _must_ be bad, then, because of my coloring?"
"What a ridiculous idea, you sweet child!" she laughed. "Who has told you
that!"
"Oh, Mrs. Carruthers always said so--and--and the old gentlemen, and--even
Mr. Carruthers hinted I probably had some odd qualities. But you do think
I shall be able to be fairly good--don't you?"
She was amused, I could see, but I was serious.
"I think you probably might have been a little wicked if you had married a
man like Mr. Carruthers," she said, smiling, "but with Robert I am sure
you will be good. He will never leave you a moment, and he will love you
so much you won't have time for anything else."
"Oh, that is what I shall like--being loved," I said.
"I think all women like that," she sighed. "We could all of us be good if
the person we love went on being demonstrative. It is the cold,
matter-of-fact devotion that kills love, and makes one want to look
elsewhere to find it again."
Then we talked of possibilities about the duke. I told her I knew his
_toquade_, and she, of course, was fully acquainted with mamma's history.
"I must tell you, dear, I fear he will be difficult," she said. "He is a
strangely prejudiced person, and obstinate to a degree, and he worships
Robert, as we
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