But this obstacle, this hindrance, in what then did it consist? wherein lay its insurmountably? A more worldly-minded or experienced girl would at once have found an answer to this question in the fact of her dependent position; but with respect to Ralph himself, this did not somehow occur to Marion as of much consequence. Yet she was by no means ignorant of the conventional importance of social position, and had indeed been keenly alive to the slights, and still more objectionable condescension, which in her rôle of governess she had not failed to meet with. Her unworldliness showed itself rather in her perfect trust, her childlike confidence that were there no other difficulty in the way, Sir Ralph would not refrain from asking her to be his wife because he believed her to be a governess. And indeed, though she knew it not, it was only at times that she realized her present position. It was too new to her, and she was too conscious of its unreality, for it to influence save in a passing way her estimate of herself or others. When with Sir Ralph, she always felt herself to be herself—Marion Vere—his equal in every sense. In every sense, at least, in which a true woman would wish to feel herself the equal of the man she loves. And, in an utterly illogical way, it seemed to her almost as if her knowledge that this was the case, her assurance that not even from the social point of view could she be regarded as other than a fit wife for him, must somehow or other be instinctively recognised by Ralph Severn himself. In all these ideas, as we have seen, she was partly right and partly wrong.