"You mean a rich marriage?"
She nodded.
He was leaning back in his chair, puffing rings of smoke into the air.
"Any chance of it?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Not now," she said. "I'm in love."
It brought him up straight.
"In love?" he repeated. "Why, you're only a kid."
"That's what I thought," she answered, "up to a month ago."
"Who is it?" he asked.
"A young local solicitor," she answered, "the son of a blacksmith. They say his mother used to go out charring. But that may be only servants' gossip."
"Good God," he exclaimed. "Are you mad?"
She laughed. "I thought I would tell you the worst about him first," she said, "and so get it over. Against all that, is the fact that he's something quite out of the common. He's the type from which the world's conquerors are drawn. Napoleon was only the son of a provincial attorney. He's the most talked about man in Millsborough already; and everything he puts his hand to succeeds. He's pretty sure to end as a millionaire with a seat in the
