all chance was over.

'The courtship of a woman,' he droned away, 'is in my mind not fair to
her until a man has to the full enough to sanction his asking her to
marry him. And if he throws all he possesses on a stake . . . to win
her--give her what she has a right to claim, he ought . . . . Only at
present the prospect seems good . . . . He ought of course to wait.
Well, the value of the stock I hold has doubled, and it increases. I am
a careful watcher of the market. I have friends--brokers and railway
Directors. I can rely on them.'

'Pray,' interposed Lady Dunstane, 'specify--I am rather in a mist--the
exact point upon which you do me the honour to consult me.' She
ridiculed herself for having imagined that such a man would come to
consult her upon a point of business.

'It is,' he replied, 'this: whether, as affairs now stand with me--I have
an income from my office, and personal property . . . say between
thirteen and fourteen hundred a year to start with--whether you think me
justified in asking a lady to share my lot?'

'Why not? But will you name the lady?'

'Then I may write at once? In your judgement. . . . Yes, the lady.
I have not named her. I had no right. Besides, the general question
first, in fairness to the petitioner. You might reasonably stipulate for
more for a friend. She could make a match, as you have said . . .' he
muttered of 'brilliant,' and 'the highest'; and his humbleness of the
honest man enamoured touched Lady Dunstane. She saw him now as the man
of strength that she would have selected from a thousand suitors to guide