"Well, I saw the creature," she began, "and it required no time at all to reach a very definite understanding with her. I had feared it might be rather a delicate matter, talking to her at once, you know--and we needed to hurry--but she's a woman one can talk to. She's made heaps of money, and the poor thing is society-mad--_so_ afraid the modish world won't take her at her true value--but she talked very frankly about marriage--really she's cool-headed for all the fire she seems to have--and the short of it is that she's determined to marry some one of the smart men here in New York. The creature's fascinated by the very idea." "Did you mention me?" "You may be sure I did, but she'd read the papers, and, like so many of these people, she has no use at all for an Englishman without a title. Of course I couldn't be too definite with her, but she understood perfectly, and she let me see she wouldn't hear of it at all. So she's off the list. But don't give up. Now, there's--" But Mauburn was determinedly downcast. "It's uncommon handsome of you, Mrs. Drelmer, really, but we'll have to leave off that, you know. If a chap isn't heir to a peerage or a city fortune there's no getting on that way." "Why, the man is actually discouraged. Now you need some American pluck, old chap. An American of your age wouldn't give up." "But, hang it all! an American knows how to do things, you know, and like as not he'd nothing to begin with, by Jove! Now I'd a lot to begin with, and here it's all taken away." "Look at young Bines. He's had a lot taken away, but I'll wager he makes it all back again and more too before he's forty." "He might in this country; he'd never do it at home, you know." "This country is for you as much as for him. Now, there's Augusta Hartong--those mixed-pickle millionaires, you know. I was chatting with Augusta's mother only the other day, and if I'd only suspected this--" "Awfully kind of you, Mrs. Drelmer, but it's no use. I'm fairly played out. I shall go to see Miss Bines, and have a chat with her people, you know." "Now, for heaven's sake, don't make a silly of yourself, whatever you do! Mind, the girl released you of her own accord!" "Awfully obliged. I'll think about it jolly well, first. See you soon. Good-bye!" And Mauburn was off. He was reproaching himself. "That poor girl has been eating her heart out for a word of love from me. I'm a brute!" CHAPTER XXXVI. The God in the Machine