"Your mother is very kind to me," she said, abruptly.

"I was afraid, at one time, that she would think me hardly good enough to be your wife." Horace laughed indulgently: his self-esteem was more gently flattered than ever.
"Absurd!" he exclaimed.

"My darling, you are connected with Lady Janet Roy.

Your family is almost as good as ours." "Almost ?" she repeated.

"Only almost ?" The momentary levity of expression vanished from Horace's face.