"
"Earnest? Yes. But I cannot give my whole self to the work. I am so
lonely."
"You will not be so for long," he answered with more cheerfulness.
"You have every opportunity of making for yourself a good social
position. You will soon have friends, if only you seek them. Your
goodness will make you respected. Indeed I wonder at your remaining
so isolated. It need not be; I am sure it need not. Your wealth--I
have no thought of speaking cynically--your wealth must--"
"My wealth! What is it to me? What do I care for all the friends it
might bring? They are nothing to me in my misery. But you . . . I
would give all I possess for one kind word from you."
Flushing over forehead and cheeks, she compelled herself to meet his
look. It was her wealth that stood between her and him. Her position
was not like that of other women. Conventionalities were
meaningless, set against a life.
"I have tried hard to make myself ever so little worthy of you," she
murmured, when her voice would again obey her will. "Am I still--
still too far beneath you?"
He stood like one detected in a crime, and stammered the words.
"Ida, I am not free."
He had risen. Ida sprang up, and moved towards him.
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