"But since you ask, he would have to be a man first: a toiling, striving animal who could hold his own amidst his fellows wherever he was placed.
Secondly, one would naturally prefer a gentleman, though I do not like the word, and one would fancy the combination a trifle rare, because brains and birth do not necessarily tally, and the man educated by the struggle for existence is apt to be taught more than he ever would be at Oxford or in the army.

Still, men of that stamp forget a good deal, and learn so much that is undesirable, you see.

In fact, I only know one man who would have suited me, and he is debarred by age and affinity--but, because we are so much alike, I can't help fancying that you once knew another." The smile on Miss Barrington's face, which was still almost beautiful as well as patient, became a trifle wistful.
"There are few better men than my brother, though he is not clever," she said, and dropped her voice a little.

"As to the other, he died in India--beside his mountain gun--long ago." "And you have never forgotten?
He must have been worth it--I wonder if loyalty and chivalric faith belong only to the past," said the girl, reaching up a rounded arm and patting her aunt's thin hand.

"And now we will be practical.