"I think you know whom you will be marrying," he resumed. "I have tried to make what I know about myself clear to you as well as to me. You once agreed that I left you no illusions about me." "Yes. On the platform at the Corn Exchange in Ludsey," Cynthia replied. "I remember quite well. I remember your answer too: That you did not mean to." "Yes," said Harry Rames. "That was my answer." Cynthia paused for a few seconds. Then in her turn she began to question him. "So even then you were thinking that if you succeeded in Parliament--this afternoon would come?" "Yes." "Perhaps even before then?" "Yes, even before then." Cynthia nodded her head. With a smile in which there was irony and a little of her old resentment, she remarked: "Yes, you have always looked ahead." Harry replied simply and gravely: "Always." "Thank you," said Cynthia. She thanked him because he was so perfectly honest with her. He admitted--for his words were no less than such an admission--that he had deliberately thought of her because she had money. On the other hand, it was true that he had stood by and left the opportunity open for any one to snatch until he could himself bring something into the partnership. That weighed with her in his favor. "Will you tell me when you first began to think of me in this way?" she asked with an earnestness which to Harry Rames appeared quite singular. To his direct mind the one question which needed answering was whether she meant to marry him or no. "Does the exact date matter?" "Very much." Rebellion again broke out in Cynthia. "I believe it is quite a usual question for maidens to ask on these occasions. But no doubt I ought to have asked it with a deeper bashfulness." Harry reflected. Here was one of the nice subtleties of the feminine mind which somehow he must satisfy. "It was after I had driven out once or twice from Ludsey to see you. That is as near as I can put it. It was after I had got to know you a little." "As soon, in a word, as you concluded that I would suit the place." Though the sentence was phrased still in the ironical form, the irony had suddenly gone from her voice. She was so relieved that a smile trembled about her lips. Her next words gave the reason of her relief. "So really and truly you want me personally--as well." The question would have sounded vague to a stranger, but these two understood that it was her fortune which she omitted to name. Cynthia knew, as she could not but know, that her wealth had first set his thoughts running toward her. But it was some personal quality which in the end had decided him to ask for her. He must have money--yes, but other help than money as well. It was a satisfaction to her pride that he found it in her.