And after all, what can boots or clothes matter to man or woman?
indeed, they sink into insignificance when the face of their wearer
is stamped with the serene yet determined confidence that marked
Barnabas as he spoke.
"Marry--Cleone Meredith?" said the Viscount at last.
"Marry her--yes," said Barnabas slowly.
"Why then, in the first place let me tell you she's devilish high
and proud."
"'T is so I would have her!" nodded Barnabas.
"And cursedly hard to please."
"So I should judge her," nodded Barnabas.
"And heiress to great wealth."
"No matter for that," said Barnabas.
"And full of whims and fancies."
"And therefore womanly," said Barnabas.
"My dear Beverley," said the Viscount, smiling again, "I tell you
the man who wins Cleone Meredith must be stronger, handsomer, richer,
and more accomplished than any 'Buck,' 'Corinthian,' or 'Macaroni'
of 'em all--"
"Or more determined!" added Barnabas.
"Or more determined, yes," nodded the Viscount.
"Then I shall certainly marry her--some day," said Barnabas.
Again the Viscount eyed Barnabas a while in silence, but this time,
be it noted, he smiled no more.
Pages:
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141