"Because she never would love _me_, George; and _I_ would never marry any woman, unless I were sure that she both could and did. So you see that I am not the least jealous; but still I say, don't fall in love with her--" "Faith! St. George, but your admonition comes somewhat late--for I believe I am half in love with her already." "Then stop where you are, and go no deeper--for if I err not, she is more than half in love with you, too." "A strange reason, St. George, wherefore to bid me stop!" "A most excellent good one!" replied the other, gravely, and almost sadly, "for mutual love between you two can only lead to mutual misery. Her father never would consent to her marrying you more than he would to her marrying a peasant--the man is perfectly insane on the subject of title-deeds and heraldry, and will accept no one for his son-in-law who cannot show as many quarterings as a Spanish grandee, or a German noble. But, of course, it is of no use talking about it. Love never yet listened to reason; and, moreover, I suppose what is to be is to be--come what may." "And what will you do, St. George, about Agnes? I think you are touched there a little!" "Not a whit I--honor bright! And for what I will do--amuse myself, George--amuse myself, and that pretty coquette, too; and if I find her less of a coquette, with more of a heart than I fancy she has--" he stopped short, and laughed. "Well, what then--what then?" cried George Delawarr. "It will be time enough to decide _then_." "And so say I, St. George. Meanwhile, I too will amuse myself." "Ay! but observe this special difference--what is fun to _you_ may be death to _her_, for she _has_ a heart, and a fine, and true, and deep one; may be death to yourself--for you, too, are honorable, and true, and noble; and that is why I love you, George, and why I speak to you thus, at the risk of being held meddlesome or impertinent." "Oh, never, never!" exclaimed Delawarr, moving his horse closer up to him, and grasping his hand warmly, "never! You meddlesome or impertinent! Let me hear no man call you so. But I will think of this. On my honor, I will think of this that you have said!" And he did think of it. Thought of it often, deeply--and the more he thought, the more he loved Blanche Fitz-Henry.