I don't think I could get on with a single page of it, if I didn't feel that I could go to her and ask her what she thinks of it." "But,"-- said Helmsley, in a gentle, argumentative way--"all this is very strange! She is not an educated woman." Reay laughed lightly.
"No?
What do you call an educated woman, David ?" Helmsley thought a moment.

The situation was a little difficult, for he had to be careful not to say too much.
"Well, I mean,"-- he said, at last--"She is not a lady." Reay's eyes flashed sudden indignation.
"Not a lady!" he ejaculated--"Good God! Who is a lady then ?" Helmsley glanced at him covertly.

How fine the man looked, with his tall, upright figure, strong, thoughtful face, and air of absolute determination! "I'm afraid,"-- he murmured, humbly--"I'm afraid I don't know how to express myself,--but what I want to say is that she is not what the world would call a lady,--just a simple lace-mender,--real 'ladies' would not ask her to their houses, or make a friend of her, perhaps--" "She's a simple lace-mender,--I was a common cowherd,"-- said Angus, grimly--"Do you think those whom the world calls 'ladies' would make a friend of _me_ ?" Helmsley smiled.
"You're a man--and to women it doesn't matter what a man _was_, so long as he _is_ something.

You were a cowherd, as you say--but you educated yourself at a University and got a degree.

In that way you've raised yourself to the rank of a gentleman--" "I was always that,"-- declared Angus, boldly, "even as a cowherd! Your arguments won't hold with me, David! A gentleman is not made by a frock coat and top hat.