gaged."
"They never do when the old man bucks--eh, what? Gessner don't like me,
and I'd poison him for a shilling. Why shouldn't I marry her? I can ride
a horse and point a gun and throw a fly better than most. Can Old
Bluebeard go better--eh, what? The old pot-hook, I'd play him any game
you like to name for a pony aside and back myself to the Day of
Judgment. And he's the man who talks about bagging a Duke for his girl!
Pshaw, Anna would kick the coronet downstairs in three days and the
owner after it. You must know that for yourself--she's a little devil to
rear and you can't touch her on the curb--eh, what, you've noticed it
yourself?"
Alban declared quite frankly that he had noticed nothing whatever. Not
for a fortune would he have declared his heart to this man, the hopes,
the perplexities, and the self-reproach which had attended ever these
early weeks in wonderland. Just as Anna's shrewdness had perceived, so
was it the truth that an image of perfect womanhood dazzled his
imagination and left him without any clear perception whatever. For
little Lois of the slums he had a sterling affection, begotten of long
association and of mutual sympathy--but the vision of Anna had been the
beatification of his love dream, so to speak, deceiving him by its
immense promise and leading him to credit Gessner's daughter with all
those qualities of womanhood which stood nearest to his heart's desire.
Here was a Lois become instantly more beautiful, more refined, more
winning. If he remained true to the little friend of his boyish years,
his faith had been obscured for a moment by this superb apparition of a
young girl's beauty, enshrined upon the altar of riches and endowed with
those qualities which wealth alone could purchase. Anna, indeed, held
him for a little while spellbound, and now he listened to Forrest as
though a heresy against all women were spoken.
"I did not know you were engaged," he said quite frankly. "Anna
certainly has never told me. Of course, I congratulate you. She is a
very beautiful girl, Forrest."
"That's true, old chap. You might see her in the paddock and pick her at
a glance--eh, what? But it's mum at present--not a whistle to the old
man until the south wind blows. And don't you tell Anna either. She'd
marry somebody else if she thought I was really in love with her--eh,
what?"
Alban shrugged his shoulders but had nothing to say. They had now come
to the famous Achilles Statue in Hyde Park
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