She is very beautiful." The fingers were plucking at each other again; and a strange, vacant smile on her face, trying to look glad.
"You love her, Stephen ?" He was quiet and firm enough now.
"I do not.

Her money will help me to become what I ought to be.

She does not care for love.

You want me to succeed, Margret?
No one ever understood me as you did, child though you were." Her whole face glowed.
"I know! I know! I did understand you!" She said, lower, after a little while,-- "I knew you did not love her." "There is no such thing as love in real life," he said, in his steeled voice.

"You will know that, when you grow older.