I thought of marrying
you?"

"A great many, Jack."

"Did I ever say so?"

"Never. I'll do you justice there. You have been very cautious."

"Of course you can be severe, and of course I am bound to bear it. I
have been cautious,--for your sake!"

"Oh, Jack!"

"For your sake. When I first saw how it was going to be,--how it might
be between you and me,--I took care to say outright that I couldn't
marry unless a girl had money."

"There will be something--when papa dies."

"The most healthy middle-aged gentleman in London! There might be half
a dozen cradles, Guss, before that day. If it will do you good, you
shall say I'm the greatest rascal walking."

"That will do me no good."

"But I don't know that I can give you any other privilege."

Then there was a long pause during which they were sauntering together
under an old oak tree in the park. "Do you love me, Jack?" she then
asked, standing close up to him.

"God bless my soul! That's going back to the beginning."

"You are heartless,--absolutely heartless. It has come to that with you
that any real idea of love is out of the question."

"I can't afford it, my dear."

"But is there no such thing as love that you can't help? Can you drop a
girl out of your heart altogether simply because she has got no money?
I suppose you did love me once?" Here Jack scratched his head. "You did
love me once?" she said, persevering with her question.

"Of course I did," said Jack, who had no objection to making assurances
of the past.

"And you don't now?"

"Whoever said so? What's the good of talking about it?"

"Do you think you owe me nothing?"

"What's the good of owing, if a man can't pay his debts?"

"You will own nothing then?"

"Yes, I will. If anyone left me twenty thousand pounds to-morrow, then
I should owe you something."

"What would you owe me?"

"Half of it."

"And how would you pay me?" He thought a while before he made his
answer. He knew that in that case he would not wish to pay the debt in
the only way in which it would be payable. "You mean then that you
would--marry me?"

"I shouldn't be afraid of the hashed mutton and cradles."

"In that case you--would marry me?"

"A man has no right to take so much on himself as to say that."

"Psha!"

"I suppose I should. I should make a devilish bad husband even then."

"Why should you be worse than others?"

"I don't know. Perhaps I was made worse. I can't fancy myself doing any
du