"Yes--I think it is," she went on thoughtfully. "I can hardly believe
you're to marry. Of course, she's the grand prize. Still--I never
imagined you'd come in and surrender. I guess you _do_ care for her."
"Why else should I marry?" argued he. "She's got nothing I need--except
herself, Ursula."
"What _is_ it you see in her?"
"What you see--what everyone sees," replied Fred, with quiet, convincing
enthusiasm. "What no one could help seeing. As you say, she's the grand
prize."
"Yes, she is sweet and handsome--and intelligent--very superior,
without making others feel that they're outclassed. Still--there's
something lacking--not in her perhaps, but in you. You have it for
her--she's crazy about you. But she hasn't it for you."
"What?"
"I can't tell you. It isn't a thing that can be put into words."
"Then it doesn't exist."
"Oh, yes it does," cried Ursula. "If the engagement were to be
broken--or if anything were to happen to her--why, you'd get over
it--would go on as if nothing had happened. If she didn't fit in with
your plans and ambitions, she'd be sacrificed so quick she'd not know
what had taken off her head. But if you felt what I mean--then you'd
give up everything--do the wildest, craziest things."
"What nonsense!" scoffed Norman. "I can imagine myself making a fool
of myself about a woman as easily as about anything else. But I can't
imagine myself playing the fool for anything whatsoever."
There was mysterious fire in Ursula's absent eyes. "You remember me as a
girl--how mercenary I was--how near I came to marrying Cousin Jake?"
"I saved you from that."
"Yes--and for what? I fell in love."
"And out again."
"I was deceived in Clayton--deceived myself--naturally. How is a woman
to know, without experience?"
"Oh, I'm not criticising," said the brother.
"Besides, a love marriage that fails is different from a mercenary
marriage that fails."
"Very--very," agreed he. "Just the difference between an honorable and a
dishonorable bankruptcy."
"Anyhow--it's bankrupt--my marriage. But I've learned what love is--that
there is such a thing--and that it's valuable. Yes, Fred, I've got the
taste for that wine--the habit of it. Could I go back to water or milk?"
"Spoiled baby--that's the whole story. If you had a nursery full of
children--or did the heavy housework--you'd never think of these
foolish moonshiny things."
"Yet you say you love!"
"Clayton is as good as any you're likely to run across--is better than
_some_ I've seen about."
"How can _you_ say?" cried she. "It's for me to judge."
"If you would only _judge_!"