y much to my taste; I shall
indulge it when I am whipped at home."

Wilfrid took her hand and pressed his lips to the fingers, keeping his
face ponderingly down. He was again so divided that the effort to find
himself absorbed all his thinking faculties.

At last he muttered: "A lieutenant's pay!"--expecting her to reply, "We
can wait," as girls do that find it pleasant to be adored by curates,
Then might follow a meditative pause--a short gaze at her, from
which she could have the option of reflecting that to wait is not the
privilege of those who have lived to acquire patience. The track he
marked out was clever in a poor way; perhaps it was not positively
unkind to instigate her to look at her age: but though he read character
shrewdly, and knew hers pretty accurately, he was himself too much of a
straw at the moment to be capable of leading-moves.

"We can make up our minds, without great difficulty, to regard the
lieutenant's pay as nothing at all," was Lady Charlotte's answer. "You
will enter the Diplomatic Service. My interest alone could do that. If
we are married, there would be plenty to see the necessity for pushing
us. I don't know whether you could keep the lieutenancy; you might.
I should not like you to quit the Army: an opening might come in it.
There's the Indian Staff--the Persian Mission: they like soldiers
for those Eastern posts. But we must take what we can get. We should,
anyhow, live abroad, where in the matter of money society is more
sensible. We should be able to choose our own, and advertize tea,
brioche, and conversation in return for the delicacies of the season."

"But you, Charlotte--you could never live that life!" Wilfrid broke in,
the contemplation of her plain sincerity diminishing him to himself. "It
would drag you down too horribly!"

"Remorse at giving tea in return for dinners and balls?"

"Ah! there are other things to consider."

She blushed unwontedly.

Something, lighted by the blush, struck him as very feminine and noble.

"Then I may flatter myself that you love me?" he whispered.

"Do you not see?" she rejoined. "My project is nothing but a whim--a
whim."

The divided man saw himself whole, if not happy in the ranks of
Diplomacy, with a resolute, frank, faithful woman (a lady of title)
loving him, to back him. Fortune shone ahead, and on the road he saw
where his deficiencies would be filled up by her. She was firm and
open--he irresolute and self-involved. Ani