It was said with profound meaning; but his face was as usual.

"That is what I thought," she said, in all good faith.

"You do not even understand!" he cried, and he was also looking
longingly at his hat.

"Understand what?"

"Jerry," he said, and tried to stop himself, with the result that he
added, "dear little Jerry!" ("What am I doing!" he groaned.)

She understood now. "You don't mean--" she began, in amazement.

"Yes," he cried passionately. "I love you. Will you be my wife?" ("I
am lost!")

"Gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Jerry; and then, on reflection, she became
indignant. "I would not have believed it of you," she said scornfully.
"Is it my money, or what? I am not at all clever, so you must tell
me."

With Tommy, of course, it was not her money. Except when he had
Elspeth to consider, he was as much a Quixote about money as Pym
himself; and at no moment of his life was he a snob.

"I am sorry you should think so meanly of me," he said with dignity,
lifting his hat; and he would have got away then (which, when you come
to think of it, was what he wanted) had he been able to resist an