"
Piers laughed.
"Can that surprise one? Should I wonder if I were told she had
fifty?"
"Yes, but this was not of the ordinary kind. You know that Mr. Jacks
is well acquainted with Trafford Romaine. And it was Trafford
Romaine himself."
The news did not fail of its impression. Piers smiled vaguely, and
on the smile came a look of troubled pride.
"Well, it is not astonishing, but it gives me a better opinion of
the man. I shall always feel a sort of sympathy when I come across
his name. Why did you think I ought to know?"
"For a reason I feel to be rather foolish, now I come to speak of
it," replied Mrs. Hannaford. "But--I had a feeling that Irene is
by nature rather ambitious; and if, after such an experience as
that, she so soon accepts a man who has done nothing particular,
whose position is not brilliant----"
"I understand. She must, you mean, be very strongly drawn to him.
But then I needed no such proof of her feeling--if it is _certain_
that she is going to marry him. Could I imagine her marrying a man
for any reason but one? Surely you could not?"
"No--no----"
The denial had a certain lack of emphasis. Otway's eyes flashed.
"You doubt? You speak in that way of Irene Derwent?"
Gazing into Mrs. Hannaford's face, he saw rising tears. She gave a
little laugh, which did not disguise her emotion as she answered
him.
"Oh, what an idealist it makes a man!--don't talk of your
unworthiness.
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