a distance between us. I asked Mrs. Staveley if he thought me
ignorant. As long as I live I shall remember the reply: "He
thinks you charming."

Any other girl would have been satisfied with this. I am the
miserable creature who is always making mistakes. My stupid
curiosity spoiled the charm of Mrs. Staveley's conversation.
And yet it seemed to be a harmless question; I only said I should
like to know what profession Philip belonged to.

Mrs. Staveley answered: "No profession."

I foolishly put a wrong meaning on this. I said: "Is he idle?"

Mrs. Staveley laughed. "My dear, he is an only son--and his
father is a rich man."

That stopped me--at last.

We have enough to live on in comfort at home--no more. Papa has
told us himself that he is not (and can never hope to be) a rich
man. This is not the worst of it. Last year, he refused to marry
a young couple, both belonging to our congregation. This was
very unlike his usual kind self. Helena and I asked him for
his reasons. They were reasons that did not take long to give.
The young gentleman's father was a rich man. He had forbidden
his son to marry a sweet girl--because she had no fortune.

I have no fortune. And Philip's father is a rich man.