confidence in her brother, who was an admirable business man, and not in
the least dissipated.

"Come, come," she said. "It's much too hot to fight. Dwight is not good
enough for Alex--from a worldly point of view, I mean," as Alexina made a
movement in her direction. "We should none of us marry out of our class. It
never works, somehow. But Mr. Dwight is really quite all right otherwise. I
like him very much, Alex darling, and I don't mind his being an outsider
in the least--so long as he doesn't try to marry one of us. He's _too_
good-looking, and his heels are fairly inspired. No one questions the fact
that he is an honorable and worthy young man, working like a real man to
earn his living. It isn't at all as if he were an adventurer. He has never
struck me as being more of a snob than most people, and I don't see why I
haven't thought to ask him down to San Mateo for a week-end."

"You'll certainly have a friend for life if you do," said Aileen
satirically. "Fall in love with him yourself if you choose. You can afford
it."

"No fear. I've made up my mind. I'm going to marry a French marquis."

"What?" Even Alexina forgot Mortimer Dwight. "Who is he? Where did you meet
him?"

"I haven't met him yet. But I shall. I'm going to Paris next winter to
visit my aunt, and I'll find one. You get anything in this world you go
for hard enough. To be a French marquise is the most romantic thing in the
world."

"Why not Elton Gwynne? It's an open secret that he's an English marquis. Or