He was astounded, was furious--and as he is not the ordinary lick-spittle lawyer but a man of arrogant independence, he did not hesitate to let me see that his anger--and scorn--were for myself. “Do you mean that?” he said. “Yes,” replied I carelessly--as if I were now indifferent about the whole business. “My girl wants his title. And why let a question of money come between her and happiness?” “I can’t refrain from saying, Loring, that I’d not have believed this of you.” “She’s not fit to live in America,” said I. “Her mother hasn’t educated her for it. American mothers don’t educate their daughters nowadays to be wives of American men. Honestly, do you know an American man able to do for himself who would be foolish enough to marry that sort of girl?” His silence was assent. “You see. I’ve got to buy her a husband--that is, a title--over here. This offering seems as good as there is in the market--at the price. So--why not?” “That’s one view of it,” said he coldly. I laid my hand on his shoulder. “Come now--be sensible,” said I. “What else can I do?” “It would be an impertinence for me to say,” replied he. “I can guess,” said I. “You needn’t trouble yourself to say it. You evidently don’t know the circumstances. And I may add that so long as I’ve got to buy Margot a title I might as well buy her a good one.” He eyed me sharply. But I did not take him into my confidence--nor shall I confide in you at present, gentle reader. I did not even let him see that I was holding back anything. I went on with good-humored raillery: “I’m doing better than Hanley or Vanderveld or Pattison or any of the others who’ve dealt in these markets. For a marquis Crossley is selling cheap. He’s far from penniless, you know. It’s simply that he wants more money. Why, really, old man, it’s what’s called a love match. They always call it a love match when the nobleman isn’t absolutely on his uppers.” “You are certainly a philosopher, Loring,” said Norman, anxious, I saw, to finish and drop the affair. “And I became one in the usual way--necessity,” said I. “I’m as eager to have this thing dispatched as you are. I want to get out to sea, where perhaps the stench of aristocracy will blow out of my nostrils, and stay out of them till I reach the other shore. Then I’ll get it again. It blows down the bay to meet the incoming ships.” “Yes, we’re pretty bad,” admitted Norman. “Not so bad as we used to be, but pretty bad.” He laughed. “They accuse us of loving money. Why, we are mere beginners at it. We haven’t learned how to idle or how to spend money except in crude, tiresome ways. And to love money deeply you must know how to idle and how to spend. Money’s _the_ passion with these people. How they do need it!”