Now it was everything; for without it he never could dare lift his eyes seriously to this lovely picture so close to him, let alone dream of winning her.

He recalled Cathewe's light warning about the bones of ducal hopes.

What earthly chance had he?
Unconsciously he shrugged.
"You are shrugging!" she cried, noting the expression; for, if he was secretly observing her, she was surreptitiously contemplating his own advantages.
"Did I shrug ?" "You certainly did." "Well," candidly, "it was the thought of money that made me do it." "I detest it, too." "Good heavens, I didn't say I detested it! What I shrugged about was my own dreary lack of it." "Bachelors do not require much." "That's true; but I no longer desire to remain a bachelor." The very thing that saved him was the added laughter, forced, miserably forced.
Fool! The words had slipped without his thinking.
"Gracious! That sounds horribly like a proposal." She beamed upon him merrily.
And his heart sank, for he had been earnest enough, for all his blunder.

Manlike, he did not grasp the fact that under the circumstance merriment was all she could offer him, if she would save him from his own stupidity.
"But I do hate money," she reaffirmed.
"I shouldn't.

Think of what it brings." "I do; begging letters, impostures, battle-scarred titles, humbugging shop-keepers, and perhaps one honest friend in a thousand.