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Chapter 18

           AgainandyetagainIcongratulateyou!"

           Tossingthehorriblethinghecalledhis‘sprite’offtoflyononeofitsslowhummingcircuitsroundtheroom,heshookmyhandfervently,stillsmiling—andI—feelinginstinctivelythathewasasfullyawareofthetruthasIwas,namely,thathadIbeenapoorauthorwithnothingbutwhatIcouldearnbymybrains,theLadySibylEltonwouldneverhavelookedatme,muchlessagreedtomarryme—keptsilencelestIshouldopenlybetraytherealityofmyposition.

           "Yousee"—hewenton,withacheerfulrelentlessness—"Iwasnotawarethatanyold-worldromancegracedthedispositionofonesoapparentlyimpassiveasyourbeautifulfiancée.Toloveforlove’ssakeonly,isbecomingreallyanobsoletevirtue.IthoughtLadySibylwasanessentiallymodernwoman,consciousofherposition,andthenecessitytherewasforholdingthatpositionproudlybeforetheworldatallcosts—andthattheprettypastoralsentimentsofpoeticalPhyllisesandAmandashadnoplaceinhernature.Iwaswrong,itseems;andforonceIhavebeenmistakeninthefairsex!"Herehestretchedouthishandtothe‘sprite,’thatnowcamewingingitswayback,andsettledatonceonitsusualresting-place;"Myfriend,Iassureyou,ifyouhavewonatruewoman’struelove,youhaveafargreaterfortunethanyourmillions—atreasurethatnonecanaffordtodespise."

           Hisvoicesoftened—hiseyesgrewdreamyandlessscornful—andIlookedathiminsomeastonishment.

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