‘Oh, good heavens!’ says Lady Forster; ‘it might indeed! If they wear less petticoat than the dear old squaws——And if he should bring one here! Fancy her advent into one’s drawing-room! People would go away.’ ‘I don’t think so—I really don’t,’ says Captain Lennox reassuringly. ‘I believe honestly you might depend on “people” to support you under the trying circumstances. What are friends for, if——’ ‘Oh, well, I couldn’t stand it if you could,’ says Lady Forster, with a glance at him. ‘And I don’t want George to marry a nasty Zulu, any way. What do you think, Billee Barlow?’—to her husband. ‘Isn’t Susan nicer than a Zulu woman?’ ‘I’ve not had much experience,’ says Sir William lazily. ‘But I dare say you’re right.’ ‘But listen. Isn’t it better for George to marry Susan than to go out there again, and perhaps give you a sister-in-law “mit nodings” on her?’ ‘It’s very startling,’ says Lennox. ‘Take time, Billee, before answering; you might commit yourself.’ ‘Really, the question is,’ says Josephine, in her cold, settled way, ‘whether it would be wise to encourage a marriage so distinctly one-sided in the way of advantage as that between——’ ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ interrupts Lady Forster impatiently. ‘But if George goes away again, I have a horrid feeling that he won’t come back at all. You see, he is too much one of us to bring into our midst a dusky bride—and men have married out there—and if he likes this charming child and she likes him——People should always marry for love, I think, eh, Billee?’—turning to her husband. ‘I always think as you do,’ says the wise man. ‘Billee Barlow, what an answer!’ She looks aggrieved, and throws up her little dainty, fairy-like head. ‘Do you think I’d have married you if I hadn’t—liked you?’ ‘Was that why you married me?’ asks he, laughing, and bent on teasing her. ‘No.’ She turns her back on him. ‘I don’t know why I married you, except—that you were the biggest duffer in Europe.’ Forster roars. ‘I’m glad I’m the biggest,’ says he. ‘It’s well to be great in one’s own line.’ ‘Well, that’s where it is,’ says Lady Forster, returning with perfect equanimity to the original subject. ‘And if it comes off, Susan will be a perfect sister-in-law. One has to think of one’s self, you know; and what I dwell on is, that I’ll have the greatest fun bringing her out in town. I’ve thought it all over. She will have a regular boom. There won’t be a girl next year in it with her. I know all the coming debutantes, and she could give them miles and beat them.’ Miss Prior laughs curiously, and Lady Forster looks at her. ‘You think?’ ‘That you are the most disinterested sister on earth, or——’ ‘Well?’ ‘The most selfish.’ Lady Forster, who is impetuous to a fault, makes a movement as if to say something crushing—then restrains herself. After all, it is her brother’s house; this girl is her guest. ‘Oh, not selfish,’ says she sweetly. ‘I have a strange fancy that George adores her.’