"I wonder," he said thoughtfully. "I wonder Grizel, how you would stand poverty! Comparative poverty, I mean, of course. You have never realised the meaning of money. You have wanted a thing, and it has been yours. You have not adapted yourself to circumstances, circumstances have been made to adapt themselves to _you_. It is the fashion to decry the power of riches, but in the case of a woman like yourself, young, and strong, and beautiful, and sane, it is folly to pretend that they are not a valuable asset. You have been happy--" "Yes!" assented Grizel thoughtfully. "Yes!" She stared into the fire, her small face very grave. "I like money; so much money that one need not have the thought of it always before one. It would seem to me debasing to be always considering costs, planning and contriving. It would hold one's thoughts down. And I have never felt burdened by responsibility. That's what they say, you know,--the dear, serious folks,--they call wealth a burden and responsibility, but I've loved to be able to give and to help. I've my own little way about giving..." (The listener smiled. When had Grizel _not_ her own way!) "The public charities must be supported, of course, that's mechanical; a mere signing of cheques, but the interesting part is to get hold of private cases, and see them through! Will you be shocked, Martin, when I tell you that my particular _forte_ is helping people who have failed through--_their own fault_! Not misfortune, but drink, gambling, other things, of which they might have kept free, but--didn't! It's a kind old world; every one is ready to help the unfortunate, but when a man has had a chance, and thrown it away, when it's `nobody's fault but his own,' _then_," she shrugged her slight shoulders, "he goes into outer darkness! People have `enough to do' helping those who `deserve it,' and so I do the other thing! My old Buddy has never limited me as to money; the only time when she is annoyed, is when I've not spent enough. I have quite a battalion of lost causes dependent on me now. It would hurt to give them up." There was a moment's silence, then: "And have you _no_ idea?" asked Martin tentatively. "None at all, whether in the end--?" Grizel laughed. It was rare indeed that she was serious for more than a minute at a time. "Not--one! Isn't it odd? Like a position in a _feuilleton_. Never once has the subject been mentioned between us. I have had, as I said, command of unlimited money since I left school, but she dreads the idea of death; it must never be mentioned in her presence, or anything approximately suggesting it. For the last few years she has been, of course, increasingly irresponsible, but before that we lived always as if the present would last for ever... She has never even alluded to the time when I should be alone." "But surely there must have been,--I know, Grizel, that there have been men,--many men!"